Read Online Julie's Butterfly by Greta Milán - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Greta Milán
Ads: Link
in handy someday.
She observed him discreetly.
“He was very taken with you,” Isabelle had said. Well, he had a very unusual way of showing it.
After unfolding the lid of another box, she pulled out an indefinable shape concealed in a cushion of bubble wrap. She carefully removed the packaging and gasped in surprise.
She was holding a treasured memento from her childhood: her grandmother’s music box. The colorful carousel, with hand-painted horses circling around a wooden base, had been her favorite toy. She had spent hours lying on her bedroom floor, listening to the distinctive melody. When her grandmother died, the music box had officially passed to her mother, but Julie had always considered the carousel to be hers. But now her mother had decided to sell it. Just like that.
Bastian approached and looked at the carousel. “What’s that?”
“A music box,” she said quietly.
She swallowed, unable to put her bitterness into words. She slowly turned the key to set it in motion. She wanted to hear the familiar tune—with its associations of warmth, security, and the happy days of childhood—one last time. At least, that’s how she felt before her parents deemed her old enough to start living up to their expectations, almost suffocating her with the pressure of their ambitions in the process. Julie’s heart contracted painfully as the melody played.
As she watched the little circling horses, her fighting spirit was awakened, and she felt a desire to call her mother and vent her frustration. But that wouldn’t accomplish anything. Louisa could hardly be called fickle; once she had decided something, that was it, regardless of the sacrifices others had to make.
And Julie had certainly made her share of sacrifices. She had spent her youth studying hard, going to ballet classes, and practicing piano. There had never been time for boys—her parents would not tolerate such frivolous distractions. In the end, she had graduated from high school with honors, and as a result, the world was her oyster. Looking back, that was the only thing for which she was truly grateful to her parents, even if she was reluctant to give them any credit.
Although she had often felt trapped, she hadn’t been lonely in her gilded cage. She had Jo, her fellow sufferer, and Isabelle, her off-the-wall friend, who had exercised her creative talents to gain both of them more freedom. If Julie was a kite, Isabelle was the wind that made her fly and Jo the string that kept her grounded.
The melody wound down, and the horses slowed to a stop. Julie took a deep breath to loosen the tightness in her chest before taking the music box over to the table for Bastian to photograph.
“That looks as though it means a great deal to you,” he observed as he took his place behind the camera. His gentle tone surprised her. “You shouldn’t be selling it.”
“It’s not my decision,” she replied, turning away resigned.
Once Bastian had finished taking pictures of it, Julie removed the music box from the stand and swapped it for a silver bowl. She gave one last, wistful look at the toy before packing it back up and placing it with the other finished pieces.
She stretched up to reach for the next box from the top shelf.
“Do you need help?” asked Bastian.
“No, thanks. I’ve got it,” she said, hooking her fingernails beneath the bottom edge and slowly tugging on it with her fingers. Suddenly the box tipped forward and fell. She shut her eyes as the box’s contents clattered loudly to the ground, drowning out her sharp cry.
Looking around in a daze, she saw that she was standing a foot away from where she had been, and strong fingers were gripping her upper arm.
Bastian was standing next to her and looking at her with a shocked expression. He studied her from head to toe.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
“No, I’m fine.” Apart from the fact that her heart was in her mouth.
He relaxed and let go of her. The worried look on his
She observed him discreetly.
“He was very taken with you,” Isabelle had said. Well, he had a very unusual way of showing it.
After unfolding the lid of another box, she pulled out an indefinable shape concealed in a cushion of bubble wrap. She carefully removed the packaging and gasped in surprise.
She was holding a treasured memento from her childhood: her grandmother’s music box. The colorful carousel, with hand-painted horses circling around a wooden base, had been her favorite toy. She had spent hours lying on her bedroom floor, listening to the distinctive melody. When her grandmother died, the music box had officially passed to her mother, but Julie had always considered the carousel to be hers. But now her mother had decided to sell it. Just like that.
Bastian approached and looked at the carousel. “What’s that?”
“A music box,” she said quietly.
She swallowed, unable to put her bitterness into words. She slowly turned the key to set it in motion. She wanted to hear the familiar tune—with its associations of warmth, security, and the happy days of childhood—one last time. At least, that’s how she felt before her parents deemed her old enough to start living up to their expectations, almost suffocating her with the pressure of their ambitions in the process. Julie’s heart contracted painfully as the melody played.
As she watched the little circling horses, her fighting spirit was awakened, and she felt a desire to call her mother and vent her frustration. But that wouldn’t accomplish anything. Louisa could hardly be called fickle; once she had decided something, that was it, regardless of the sacrifices others had to make.
And Julie had certainly made her share of sacrifices. She had spent her youth studying hard, going to ballet classes, and practicing piano. There had never been time for boys—her parents would not tolerate such frivolous distractions. In the end, she had graduated from high school with honors, and as a result, the world was her oyster. Looking back, that was the only thing for which she was truly grateful to her parents, even if she was reluctant to give them any credit.
Although she had often felt trapped, she hadn’t been lonely in her gilded cage. She had Jo, her fellow sufferer, and Isabelle, her off-the-wall friend, who had exercised her creative talents to gain both of them more freedom. If Julie was a kite, Isabelle was the wind that made her fly and Jo the string that kept her grounded.
The melody wound down, and the horses slowed to a stop. Julie took a deep breath to loosen the tightness in her chest before taking the music box over to the table for Bastian to photograph.
“That looks as though it means a great deal to you,” he observed as he took his place behind the camera. His gentle tone surprised her. “You shouldn’t be selling it.”
“It’s not my decision,” she replied, turning away resigned.
Once Bastian had finished taking pictures of it, Julie removed the music box from the stand and swapped it for a silver bowl. She gave one last, wistful look at the toy before packing it back up and placing it with the other finished pieces.
She stretched up to reach for the next box from the top shelf.
“Do you need help?” asked Bastian.
“No, thanks. I’ve got it,” she said, hooking her fingernails beneath the bottom edge and slowly tugging on it with her fingers. Suddenly the box tipped forward and fell. She shut her eyes as the box’s contents clattered loudly to the ground, drowning out her sharp cry.
Looking around in a daze, she saw that she was standing a foot away from where she had been, and strong fingers were gripping her upper arm.
Bastian was standing next to her and looking at her with a shocked expression. He studied her from head to toe.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
“No, I’m fine.” Apart from the fact that her heart was in her mouth.
He relaxed and let go of her. The worried look on his
Similar Books
