Disenchanted Princess by JULIE LINKER

Author:JULIE LINKER
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SIMON PULSE
Published: 2007-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

11

A Forest Gumps Secret Revealed

JoLynn’s Fabrics is located in what Sophie informs me is the “old” downtown of PG, though how it earned that label I have no idea since the rest of the town looks exactly the same age: ancient.

Sophie parks “Buggy” in a space right by the front door, in front of a parking meter with an out-of-order sign taped to it.

“Um, I think the meter’s broken,” I tell Sophie as we pile out onto the sidewalk, thinking she hadn’t noticed the sign.

Sophie laughs. “It’s not broken,” she says, flipping up the sign and putting a quarter in the slot. “G. W. just has a thing about hanging up signs.” She points down the sidewalk. “See?”

I follow her finger. Four spaces down is a little man wearing what looks like a half dozen sweaters, even though it’s sweltering outside. As we watch, he methodically tapes a sign to the meter and moves on to the next space.

“Won’t he get in trouble?” I ask her, still watching him.

Sophie shakes her head. “Nah. He’s been doing it for years. He puts them on Coke machines too.”

After the water in the auditorium, I know I probably shouldn’t bother saying anything, but I can’t help myself. “And he does this because …”

Sophie frowns as if this question has never occurred to her before. “I don’t know, maybe because—”

“The wheel’s still turning, but the hamster is dead,” Kate supplies dryly.

Sophie gives her a reproachful look. “I was going to say because he’s a bit touched, but …” She shrugs her shoulders and pulls open the door to the store.

The first thing I see is a woman who could be Sophie’s identical twin standing behind a long table cutting fabric from a bolt.

“Hi, Mama,” Sophie says, going to peck her twin on the cheek.

“Hi, Ms. JoLynn,” Kate says politely, which is probably quite a sacrifice considering it requires her to stop shooting daggers at me with her eyes for a moment.

Sophie takes my arm and pulls me toward her mom. “This is my new friend, West,” she says proudly. “She just moved here from California. West, this is my mom, JoLynn.”

Still cutting the fabric, JoLynn glances up to give me a quick once-over. On closer inspection, you can see the telltale signs that identify her as Sophie’s mother rather than sister—she has the beginnings of fine lines at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth, as well as on her forehead. And, unlike Sophie with her bubbly, open personality, JoLynn seems reserved, almost guarded. “You’re Crystal’s daughter, aren’t you?” she says absently, looking back down at her scissors.

“Y-yes,” I say, startled at hearing my mother’s name.

JoLynn lays the scissors down and starts folding the cut fabric into a neat square. “I thought so. You’re the spitting image of her. You even sound a little bit like her.”

“You knew my mother?” The question comes out sounding surprised, even though—duh—this IS the town where my mother grew up. Of course there are people here who knew her.

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