The Help / Прислуга. Книга для чтения на английском языке

“Eugenia, you don’t even know how to polish silver, much less advise on how to keep a house clean.”

I hug the folder to my chest. She’s right, I won’t know how to answer any of the questions. Still, I thought she’d at least be proud of me.

“And you will never meet anybody sitting at that typewriter. Eugenia, have some sense.”

Anger works its way up my arms. I stand up straight again. “You think I want to live here? With you?” I laugh in a way I’m hoping will hurt her.

I see the quick pain in her eyes.

She presses her lips together at the sting. Still, I have no desire to take back my words because finally, finally, I have said something she’s listening to.

I stand there, refusing to leave. I want to hear what she’ll say to this. I want to hear her say she’s sorry.

“I need to… ask you something, Eugenia.” She twists her handkerchief, grimaces. “I read the other day about how some… some girls get unbalanced, start thinking these – well, these unnatural thoughts.

”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. I look up at the ceiling fan. Someone’s set it going too fast. Clackety-clackety-clackety…

“Are you… do you… find men attractive? Are you having unnatural thoughts about…” She shuts her eyes tight. “Girls or – or women?”

I stare at her, wishing the ceiling fan would fly from its post, crash down on us both.

“Because it said in this article there’s a cure, a special root tea —”

“Mother,” I say, shutting my eyes tight.

“I want to be with girls as much as you’d like to be with… Jameso.” I head for the door. But I glance behind me. “I mean, unless, of course, you do?”

Mother straightens, gasps. I pound up the stairs.

The next day, I stack the Miss Myrna letters in a neat pile. I have thirty five dollars in my purse, the monthly allowance Mother still gives me. I go downstairs wearing a thick Christian smile. Living at home, whenever I want to leave Longleaf, I have to ask Mother if I can borrow her car.

Which means she’ll ask where I’m going. Which means I have to lie to her on a daily basis[53 - I have to lie to her on a daily basis – (разг.) придется врать ей каждый день], which is in itself enjoyable but a little degrading at the same time.

“I’m going down to the church, see if they need any help getting ready for Sunday school.”

“Oh, darling, that’s just wonderful.