Read Online The Truth about Mary Rose by Marilyn Sachs - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Marilyn Sachs
Tags: Juvenile Fiction
Ads: Link
Grandma to walk. The doctor says she should be doing more walking.”
And Daddy’s running out of patience, I thought, but I didn’t say anything.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” said my mother. “We’ll buy lunch out, and you can swim the whole afternoon.”
“Uh, uh,” I said.
“You look tired,” my mother said. She felt my head with her hand. “I hope you’re not lifting any of those big boxes downstairs.”
“No, Mom,” I said.
Of course, what she didn’t know was that I was tired from waking up every night about 1 A . M . My father was out so much of the time, and didn’t get home until late. I never planned on waking up at 1 , but it seemed to work out that way. I’d wake up at 1,head for the bathroom, hear them talking, and stay to listen.
That’s why I was tired. That’s why I also knew that my father’s patience was running out. He wanted our own place. He wanted it very much. He had started to look, and he told my mother last night that she should hire someone if my grandmother really needed live-in help. My father said he wanted to be settled before school started in September. He was going to look for a place in Manhattan. At the same time, he was also looking for a studio. He still hadn’t found a studio, and he wasn’t happy about that either.
“Well, all right, Mary Rose, and if Daddy should call, tell him not to take anything until he speaks to me. I have something to tell him.”
“Mom, why can’t we stay here with Grandma?”
“We are, Mary Rose. For a while. Until she’s better.”
“But why can’t we stay here after she’s better?”
“I don’t think it would work out. It wouldn’t be good for anybody.”
“It would be good for Grandma.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” said my mother, “but I’m positive it wouldn’t work out all around.”
“It’s nice up here in the Bronx,” I said. “Ray likes it, and Manny does too. I don’t want to live in Manhattan.”
“Who said anything about living in Manhattan?” asked my mother. “Mary Rose, where did you hear that?”
“It’s fun being near Grandma. I like it here.”
My mother said thoughtfully, “There’s a house for rent about ten blocks away from here. A man who’s a ceramist lives there, but he and his family are going to Japan for a year, and we could have the house in a week or two if we want it. I saw it this morning. It’s a nice house, with a wonderful studio. Not much of a garden, and the kitchen’s small, but a really large, light studio.”
“I’ll tell Daddy if he calls.”
“Well, maybe you could give him the address if he calls. And he could go, have a look. Just say it’s up to him—whatever he thinks best. If he likes it, he could give them a deposit because I’ve seen it, and I’d be satisfied.”
“OK.”
“And, Mary Rose ...”
“Yes?”
“Just tell him I said it’s entirely up to him. Whatever he decides will be fine with me.”
My grandmother didn’t want to go to the beach without me. She said she didn’t like the idea of leaving an eleven-year-old girl alone in a house. Strange men were always coming round ringing doorbells, and looking for an opportunity to steal all your valuables, and worse. She heard of an incident, just a couple of blocks away, where this old, respectable-looking woman came to a lady’s door and said she was collecting money for crippled children, and the lady let her in the house, and she must have sized the place up because a couple of days later some robbers broke in, and stole her TV set, and all the watches and money in the house.
I promised Grandma I would lock all the doors, and only open them for Manny or Ray. When they were gone, I went back down to the basement, swept up the fish pebbles, moved the tennis rackets, and removed the plastic cover from the box it was covering. There were some window screens in the box. Nothing else.
The phone rang. I ran upstairs to answer it. My father said, “Hi,
And Daddy’s running out of patience, I thought, but I didn’t say anything.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” said my mother. “We’ll buy lunch out, and you can swim the whole afternoon.”
“Uh, uh,” I said.
“You look tired,” my mother said. She felt my head with her hand. “I hope you’re not lifting any of those big boxes downstairs.”
“No, Mom,” I said.
Of course, what she didn’t know was that I was tired from waking up every night about 1 A . M . My father was out so much of the time, and didn’t get home until late. I never planned on waking up at 1 , but it seemed to work out that way. I’d wake up at 1,head for the bathroom, hear them talking, and stay to listen.
That’s why I was tired. That’s why I also knew that my father’s patience was running out. He wanted our own place. He wanted it very much. He had started to look, and he told my mother last night that she should hire someone if my grandmother really needed live-in help. My father said he wanted to be settled before school started in September. He was going to look for a place in Manhattan. At the same time, he was also looking for a studio. He still hadn’t found a studio, and he wasn’t happy about that either.
“Well, all right, Mary Rose, and if Daddy should call, tell him not to take anything until he speaks to me. I have something to tell him.”
“Mom, why can’t we stay here with Grandma?”
“We are, Mary Rose. For a while. Until she’s better.”
“But why can’t we stay here after she’s better?”
“I don’t think it would work out. It wouldn’t be good for anybody.”
“It would be good for Grandma.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” said my mother, “but I’m positive it wouldn’t work out all around.”
“It’s nice up here in the Bronx,” I said. “Ray likes it, and Manny does too. I don’t want to live in Manhattan.”
“Who said anything about living in Manhattan?” asked my mother. “Mary Rose, where did you hear that?”
“It’s fun being near Grandma. I like it here.”
My mother said thoughtfully, “There’s a house for rent about ten blocks away from here. A man who’s a ceramist lives there, but he and his family are going to Japan for a year, and we could have the house in a week or two if we want it. I saw it this morning. It’s a nice house, with a wonderful studio. Not much of a garden, and the kitchen’s small, but a really large, light studio.”
“I’ll tell Daddy if he calls.”
“Well, maybe you could give him the address if he calls. And he could go, have a look. Just say it’s up to him—whatever he thinks best. If he likes it, he could give them a deposit because I’ve seen it, and I’d be satisfied.”
“OK.”
“And, Mary Rose ...”
“Yes?”
“Just tell him I said it’s entirely up to him. Whatever he decides will be fine with me.”
My grandmother didn’t want to go to the beach without me. She said she didn’t like the idea of leaving an eleven-year-old girl alone in a house. Strange men were always coming round ringing doorbells, and looking for an opportunity to steal all your valuables, and worse. She heard of an incident, just a couple of blocks away, where this old, respectable-looking woman came to a lady’s door and said she was collecting money for crippled children, and the lady let her in the house, and she must have sized the place up because a couple of days later some robbers broke in, and stole her TV set, and all the watches and money in the house.
I promised Grandma I would lock all the doors, and only open them for Manny or Ray. When they were gone, I went back down to the basement, swept up the fish pebbles, moved the tennis rackets, and removed the plastic cover from the box it was covering. There were some window screens in the box. Nothing else.
The phone rang. I ran upstairs to answer it. My father said, “Hi,
Similar Books
