REVA’S LITTLE JOKE

Reva maneuvered the silver Volvo with her left hand, leaving her right hand free to push the radio buttons. They play the worst music at Christmastime, she thought, stabbing quickly from station to station. If I have to hear “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” one more time, I’ll scream!

It was a gray Sunday, cold and damp. The sun had come out briefly in the morning, then retreated behind a thick curtain of clouds.

Feeling tense and out of sorts, Reva had driven to her health club, intending to jog and work out for a while and then take a swim. But the pool was closed because of some sort of filter problem, and so her plans were frustrated.

Now, as she was driving past sprawling Shadyside High School, Reva wondered how she could fill up the rest of the afternoon. The tall evergreen near the main entrance to the school had been decked with twinkling Christmas lights, which were turned on even though it was the middle of the afternoon. The school was closed and dark. No sign of life.

Just six more months and I’ll be out of there forever, Reva thought with a mixture of emotions, eagerness and relief, tinged with sadness. She had been accepted at Smith, her first choice, and would be heading there in the fall.

She was thinking about how senior year was turning out to be the longest year of her life when she spotted someone she knew loping along the sidewalk. Hitting the brake, she pulled over to the curb and lowered the passenger side window. “Hey—Robb!”

Robb Spring had been walking with his hands in his coat pockets, leaning into the wind, his bare head lowered. He looked up as Reva called to him and smiled when he recognized her.

“Hi!” Reva called, smiling back. She had always liked Robb. For years he’d followed her around like an adoring puppy. He was nice and funny, a lot of fun. But she’d never go out with him because he was overweight.

I just couldn’t go out with such a buffalo, Reva told herself. She hadn’t been very subtle about turning him down, and eventually he had given up.

She hadn’t really talked with him in months. He had a girlfriend, she knew, and he was very involved with a jazz quartet he had formed. She had heard that he was a very talented pianist but had never heard him play.

“Reva, how you doin’?” He came trotting over, his breath steaming up in front of him. Robb’s curly brown hair was unbrushed, as usual. His brown eyes, which always seemed to be laughing, peered into her car.

“I’m doing okay,” Reva said. “How are you doing?”

He shrugged and laughed. “Okay, I guess. Just running some errands for my mom.”

“You’re such a good boy, Robb,” she teased.

“I can be bad too,” he replied suggestively, leaning into the car with his head lowered.

They chatted for a while, catching up. Then, as they talked, Reva had an inspiration.

Robb would make a great store Santa, she thought. Daddy said one of his Santas quit and he needs a replacement. Well, Robb would be perfect. He’s so jolly. He has just the right personality for it. And he’s so roly-poly, he wouldn’t even need any padding!

“Hey, Robb, do you need a job this Christmas?” she asked, pleased as she thought about how happy her dad would be with her.

“Yeah. I guess,” Robb said. “I planned to pick up some money shoveling driveways for people. But it’s been a little slow... since it hasn’t snowed. I offered to shovel anyway. You know, for half price. But no takers.” He grinned at her, his round face pink from the cold.

“No. I’m serious,” Reva said. “My dad said I could hire some people to work at the store. You know. Dalby’s.”

“Really?” His expression turned serious. “Well, that would be excellent, Reva. You know, things have been tough at my house. We could really use the money.”

“Well, great,” Reva said. “You can start Saturday.”

“For real?” he asked.

“Yeah, for real,” she told him, wondering why he never brushed his hair. She suddenly had another idea. Why not play a little joke on Robb too? He had a good sense of humor. He’d appreciate it. Eventually—maybe.

“Listen, I have a special job in mind for you,” she said, picturing him in a Santa Claus suit.

“Huh? What kind of job?”

“It’s a—uh—public relations job,” she said.

He looked doubtful. “Public relations? I don’t know anything about public relations.”

“Don’t worry,” she assured him, “you’ll be great at it. Really.” She couldn’t wait to see him sitting on Santa’s enormous throne with a sticky-fingered kid sitting on his lap, pulling at his white beard.

His dark eyes were lit up with excitement. “Thanks, Reva,” he said. “This is really nice of you.”

“See you at the store. About eight-thirty,” she said. As he thanked her again, she pushed the button to roll up the window and headed down the street.

What a hoot, she thought.

She couldn’t wait till Saturday morning. Robb would show up in a suit and tie, no doubt, ready to begin his important public relations job—only to be handed a bright red Santa costume, complete with beard, wig, and stupid pointy hat. And Lissa would be standing there in her glitziest dress and be sent to the stockroom to unload boxes and stock shelves.

They’ll be mortified, Reva thought, grinning from ear to ear. Mortified!

Congratulating herself on her cleverness, she pulled into her driveway, heading along the row of tall hedges to the four-car garage in back.

♦ ♦ ♦

That night, Reva’s father went out, leaving her to baby-sit for Michael. She played an endless hour of Chutes & Ladders with him, then settled him down with a cartoon tape on the VCR so she could have some time to herself.

She didn’t get him to bed until nearly ten, more than an hour past his normal weekend bedtime. He seemed nervous and clingy and kept making up excuses not to go to bed.

The poor guy is lonely, Reva thought. But what am I supposed to do about it? An entire hour of Chutes & Ladders is cruel and unusual punishment!

Finally Michael agreed to be tucked in only on the promise that Reva would wake him when their father got home so that he could say good night to him. Reva promised, with her fingers crossed, turned out the light on his dresser, leaving only the night-light on, and crept downstairs.

He’s sweet, but he’s a pest, she decided. I can think of better things to do at night than this.

She suddenly thought of Mitch Castelona and wondered what he was doing right then.

Out somewhere with Lissa, no doubt.

Well, enjoy it while you can, Lissa, Reva thought. In a few weeks you’ll be the one sitting home—while I’m out having fun with your precious Mitch.

She picked the new issue of Vogue up off the coffee table and sat down in a big, overstuffed armchair by the fireplace to thumb through it. She was nearly done, having stopped to read only photo captions, when she heard a loud knock on the door.

“Oh!” The sudden barrage of sound startled her.

She turned toward the front hall. Who could it be this late?

She hurried to the front hall and put her face close to the door. “Who is it?” she called.

No reply.

“Who is it?” Reva repeated, listening hard to the silence, suddenly filled with dread.

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20