Read Online Colonial Madness by Jo Whittemore - Free Book Online

heading for the bathroom door.
    â€œUm . . . Tori? Slight problem!” Mom called after me.
    I stopped halfway and whirled to face her. “We don’t have deodorant!” I gasped. “And I have to meet Caleb after canary pudding!”
    Mom frowned. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Do the canaries make the pudding, or . . .”
    I grabbed Mom by the shoulders. “Focus! What do I do?”
    â€œTake a shower and try to not lift your arms,” she said.
    I turned my back to her. “Here. Untie me so I can wash off this stink.”
    Mom helped me out of the dress, and I made a beeline for the bathroom. Inside was a large copper tub. And no plumbing attached.
    â€œLooks like you have to smell worse before you can smell better,” said Mom, picking up an empty bucket and holding it out.
    I sighed. “Forget it. I saw some roses on the nightstand. I’ll just rub them under my arms.”
    â€œOr maybe you could give Caleb a bloody nose,” said Mom. “That’ll keep him stopped up for days.”
    â€œYou do realize I will never take any of these ‘brilliant’ ideas of yours seriously?” I asked.
    â€œYou took graveyard hide-and-seek seriously,” said Mom. “And if I recall, you enjoyed it.”
    She had me there.
    â€œAt least now I get why colonial women always walked around with bunches of flowers,” I said, selecting a few roses from the vase. “So they could bury their noses and avoid the stink of civilization.”
    I swiped a few handfuls of petals under my arms and turned to see Mom doing lunges.
    â€œ What are you up to?” I asked. “Nobody can see your legs in that dress.”
    â€œWell,” said Mom, huffing with each drop, “I figured that if I sweat like crazy and maximize my BO, you’ll smell better by comparison.”
    I smiled at her. “Awww. Really? That’s disgusting but sweet!”
    Mom winked at me and breathed deep. Then she coughed. “Yep. I’d say I’m almost there.”
    Ten minutes later, we joined everyone for dinner, smellingof roses and rankness. If anyone noticed, they were polite enough not to say anything, although Angel’s nostrils twitched when I sat beside her.
    â€œBe honest,” I whispered. “Do I stink?”
    Angel reached for a plate of grilled leeks. “Not if I don’t breathe.”
    â€œPerfect.” I pressed my arms against my sides. “Would you mind passing the ham?”
    â€œYou want me, a vegan, to hand you a platter of chopped-up pig?” she asked.
    â€œOr I could reach across you and get it myself,” I said, lifting my arms.
    Angel jumped into action and even slid several slices of ham onto my plate.
    â€œAnything else?” she asked. “Some more pigeon, perhaps?”
    I gave her a withering look. “Just some vegetables, thanks.”
    She scooped them onto my plate, and I did my best to eat with my arms tucked against my chest.
    â€œYou look like a Tyrannosaurus rex ,” she said. “And you don’t actually smell that bad. Not compared to your mom anyway.”
    I snickered. “The things she does for love.”
    â€œWhat?” Angel leaned back in her chair and looked around. “Funk is here?”
    â€œNo! Me .” I explained about Caleb, and Angel batted her eyelashes and pursed her lips.
    â€œSo sweet. But since he’s from colonial times, is your mom okay with you dating a 340-year-old?”
    â€œHa!” I pointed at her. “So it is a date!”
    â€œSounds like it to me,” said Angel. “I wasn’t invited, and I smell way better than you.”
    â€œThat settles it.” I scarfed down my ham and left my vegetables behind. “I have got to take a bath.”
    â€œGood luck. There’s no running water,” said Angel.
    â€œNo,” I said. “But there is some water in the kitchen that