Read Online The Witches of Merribay (The Seaforth Chronicles) by B.J. Smash - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: B.J. Smash
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sleeping in here lately.
“So?” she said.
“Nice.” I scrunched my nose and took the plate . Tossing it in with the others, I pushed the laundry basket to the side.
After another half hour, the room looked spotless and the dishes were done, and I sat in front of her vanity. The girl staring back at me looked, for lack of words, wild. Earlier I had brushed my long blonde hair, but it looked tangled and unkempt. My hazel green eyes looked too big for my face.
“Thanks for the help ,” she said as she stood behind me, watching my reflection.
“Yup ,” I said.
She walked to the bathroom and came back with a towel.
“You can't look until I'm done.” She threw the towel over the mirror in front of me and began brushing my hair.
I don't know how many times I said, “Ouch ,” but I was getting sick of hearing it myself.
“Oh , be quiet. I'm almost done.” After she brushed my hair, she glazed it with something and began curling it.
During this time , she talked, but not about the usual things. And when I say she talked, I mean she talked. There had never been a “we,” and I didn't expect it to change now. I was th e listener.
In the past she would talk of everything from new movies that she'd like to see, to what color her prom dress would be the next year, to how she wanted to be a nurse someday and what college she would attend . She'd go on and on about finding the right man that would sweep her off her feet. She was a romantic.
But not this time ; this time was different. My sister sounded weird—almost like she had forgotten it was me she was talking to. She actually seemed almost…amiable. I don't think she gave a hoot about what movies were out, she didn't talk about dresses, and she didn't mention her future career or college, but she did, however, talk about someone sweeping her off her feet.
As she spoke, I noticed her own hair was lacking the usual luster, and her face seemed rather thin.
“I wish I could meet someone…someone with dark hair, smart—no, a genius—with dark brown eyes, a perfect smile, a perfect nose, and sensual lips…”
“Sensual lips, huh? Did you just say ‘sensual’?” By the way she talked, it sounded as though she already had someone in mind.
“Yes, sensual . A word you are not familiar with, I'm sure.”
Then she continued . “A gentleman that would love me and even…die for me.”
“I see ,” I said. She was sounding loopier by the second.
“Do you? I find that hard to believe . You don't seem to be the type that would understand, but maybe someday you will. Although that is hard to imagine.”
“Thanks ,” I said.
And then she totally changed the subject.
“I suppose Gran wanted us to have this time together to sort some things out.” She curled my hair around the barrel and continued. “Both of us hate discussing our feelings, but let's just get it out there and get this over with. For tonight, we should get along. I apologize if I haven't been pleasant to be around lately, but you never know what's going to happen. You just never know. So, tonight, let's just act like old times.”
I figured the statement about never knowing what was going to happen stemmed from my father's disappearance.
“I'm up for that . Apology accepted. And I didn't mean the things I said the other day—” She interrupted me. “Ivy. It's okay. Let's forget it.”
“There will come a time when you have to accept that he's gone.”
“I will not accept that. I…” I thought about telling her about Ian and Izadora. I even tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. Something in me didn't want her to know what I knew, and I physically could not speak the words.
“I don't know , but I am tired of this place. I want a real life,” she said.
“You have a real life . Why are you so antsy?”
“Things have changed, Ivy . I've changed. I am not the same girl I used to be, and there is no turning back for me,” she said.
“Turning back?
“So?” she said.
“Nice.” I scrunched my nose and took the plate . Tossing it in with the others, I pushed the laundry basket to the side.
After another half hour, the room looked spotless and the dishes were done, and I sat in front of her vanity. The girl staring back at me looked, for lack of words, wild. Earlier I had brushed my long blonde hair, but it looked tangled and unkempt. My hazel green eyes looked too big for my face.
“Thanks for the help ,” she said as she stood behind me, watching my reflection.
“Yup ,” I said.
She walked to the bathroom and came back with a towel.
“You can't look until I'm done.” She threw the towel over the mirror in front of me and began brushing my hair.
I don't know how many times I said, “Ouch ,” but I was getting sick of hearing it myself.
“Oh , be quiet. I'm almost done.” After she brushed my hair, she glazed it with something and began curling it.
During this time , she talked, but not about the usual things. And when I say she talked, I mean she talked. There had never been a “we,” and I didn't expect it to change now. I was th e listener.
In the past she would talk of everything from new movies that she'd like to see, to what color her prom dress would be the next year, to how she wanted to be a nurse someday and what college she would attend . She'd go on and on about finding the right man that would sweep her off her feet. She was a romantic.
But not this time ; this time was different. My sister sounded weird—almost like she had forgotten it was me she was talking to. She actually seemed almost…amiable. I don't think she gave a hoot about what movies were out, she didn't talk about dresses, and she didn't mention her future career or college, but she did, however, talk about someone sweeping her off her feet.
As she spoke, I noticed her own hair was lacking the usual luster, and her face seemed rather thin.
“I wish I could meet someone…someone with dark hair, smart—no, a genius—with dark brown eyes, a perfect smile, a perfect nose, and sensual lips…”
“Sensual lips, huh? Did you just say ‘sensual’?” By the way she talked, it sounded as though she already had someone in mind.
“Yes, sensual . A word you are not familiar with, I'm sure.”
Then she continued . “A gentleman that would love me and even…die for me.”
“I see ,” I said. She was sounding loopier by the second.
“Do you? I find that hard to believe . You don't seem to be the type that would understand, but maybe someday you will. Although that is hard to imagine.”
“Thanks ,” I said.
And then she totally changed the subject.
“I suppose Gran wanted us to have this time together to sort some things out.” She curled my hair around the barrel and continued. “Both of us hate discussing our feelings, but let's just get it out there and get this over with. For tonight, we should get along. I apologize if I haven't been pleasant to be around lately, but you never know what's going to happen. You just never know. So, tonight, let's just act like old times.”
I figured the statement about never knowing what was going to happen stemmed from my father's disappearance.
“I'm up for that . Apology accepted. And I didn't mean the things I said the other day—” She interrupted me. “Ivy. It's okay. Let's forget it.”
“There will come a time when you have to accept that he's gone.”
“I will not accept that. I…” I thought about telling her about Ian and Izadora. I even tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. Something in me didn't want her to know what I knew, and I physically could not speak the words.
“I don't know , but I am tired of this place. I want a real life,” she said.
“You have a real life . Why are you so antsy?”
“Things have changed, Ivy . I've changed. I am not the same girl I used to be, and there is no turning back for me,” she said.
“Turning back?
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