Megan Stine_Jeffery & the Third-Grade Ghost 03 Read Online Free PDF Page B

made a mistake. You made all of their favorite foods and none of mine. And you’ve been giving me the smallest desserts after dinner. And you’ve said some things that hurt my feelings. But you didn’t really mean them. In fact, you’re so sorry that you’d like to put Jonathan and Wendy on a bus right now and send them back home. Then you can spend all of your time loving and adoring me just the way you used to. But you don’t have to say any of that, Mom, because I know.”
    “Actually, Jeffrey,” Mrs. Becker said, “I came up here to tell you that from now on, Jonathan will be sleeping in your bed. And you will be sleeping in the sleeping bag. It’ll be much better for his wrist.”
    “I told you not to say it, Mom,” Jeffrey said, covering his ears.

Chapter Seven

    The next day was Monday, the first day of Christmas vacation.
    Jeffrey and his mother spent the morning dusting and vacuuming the living room while Jonathan lay on the couch, watching cartoons. Wendy read a book.
    Then the doorbell rang.
    “Would you answer the door, Jonathan?” Mrs. Becker shouted over the vacuum cleaner.
    “Ooooowww, my wrist,” Jonathan moaned.
    Jeffrey glared at his cousin. “I’ll get it,” he grumbled.
    Jeffrey opened the front door and stared at the woman on the porch. It was Mrs. Merrin. But for a minute, Jeffrey didn’t recognize her. She was wrapped in scarves and wore big, furry earmuffs.
    “Hi, Jeffrey,” she said, smiling.
    “Hi,” Jeffrey said cautiously. “Isn’t it considered a hit-and-run violation to give a kid homework over Christmas vacation?”
    “Very funny,” said Mrs. Merrin. “Come on out. I want to show you something.”
    Jeffrey grabbed his parka and put on his boots. Then Mrs. Merrin led Jeffrey to a section of the Beckers’ front yard where the snow was fresh and white and without a single footprint. Written in the snow, right in front of the snowman Jeffrey had built, were the words:
    Thanks, Jeffrey. Love, Mrs. M.
    Jeffrey looked at the writing in the snow. Then he looked at his teacher.
    “For what?” Jeffrey asked.
    “For playing Santa Claus again. My husband told me you dropped by my house in your Santa Claus suit. He said you told him how ‘coolsville’ it would be for him to buy a mixer for me.”
    “But, Mrs. Merrin…” Jeffrey didn’t know what to say. His teacher looked so happy. How could he tell her that it wasn’t him? It was Max.
    “You don’t have to make up any stories,” Mrs. Merrin said. “And you don’t have to admit that it was you. But it was a very sweet thing to do. And I hope
you
have a great Christmas, too.”
    She waved good-bye, then walked toward her little red car. It was parked in front of Jeffrey’s house. Jeffrey waved back.
    He was happy for Mrs. Merrin. But he felt badabout getting the credit for something Max had done. Santa Max had given Jeffrey’s car to Arvin Pubbler. And now Santa Max had made sure that Mrs. Merrin got her mixer. It was Max, the third-grade ghost, who was keeping the Christmas spirit alive. Jeffrey wanted to see his friend again. Life wasn’t the same without him.
    Jeffrey wrote a message in the snow right next to Mrs. Merrin’s.
    Max. I’m sorry. Your friend, Jeffrey.
    No sooner had Jeffrey finished the message than something invisible suddenly made a snow angel in the snow. It brushed up the loose snow and erased Jeffrey’s words. Then Max appeared in the snow angel, lying on his back, moving his arms and legs.
    “Max!” Jeffrey shouted happily. “You’re back!”
    “Hey, hey, hey, and a one-horse open sleigh, Daddy-o,” Max said. “I dig your letter. Heartsville.”
    “I really missed you,” Jeffrey said.
    “Like, I know, Daddy-o. Who wouldn’t miss cool, little old me?” Max said. “Jeffrey, I really blew it with your racing car, too. Like, something weirdsville happened when I put on the Jingle Bell man’s costume. Sorry, cat.”
    “That’s okay, Max,” Jeffrey said. “I know you were