Ordinary Girls by Blair Thornburgh

Author:Blair Thornburgh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-04-02T16:00:00+00:00

Late December had always been one of my favorite times of year, probably because 5142 Haven Lane was so Dickensian. Its banisters were made for evergreen swag, its steeply sloping roof for snow, and its windowsills for candles—although, as I discovered when digging out the Christmas boxes, about half our fake electric candlesticks had dangerously frayed wires, so I had to ration them to only the front side of the house. Our mother, who was nothing of a cook, was a surprisingly cheerful baker, and, when we arrived home after the last day of school before break, she had foregone her usual afternoon nap to pull out all the canisters of flour and sugar and set herself to mass-producing cookies.

“I could’ve been an excellent trophy wife,” she said, pushing up the sleeves of her peasant blouse and thumping a block of sugar cookie dough onto the countertop. “Staying home and making cookies for the Ladies Auxiliary, or whatever.”

“They’d make you cut your hair,” Ginny said. “And wear a pastel twinset.”

“I’m surprised they aren’t making you do that already,” I said. “For the silent auction.”

“God,” Mom said. “Don’t remind me.”

Flies notwithstanding, the War and Cheese had been such a success for Pamela Wills and her fund-raising efforts that our mother had not only been grossly overpaid but also drafted into planning ArtSong’s annual silent auction in just a few short months. Mom had celebrated by taking a nap.

Mom stuck out her tongue, and Ginny cackled. Even she was in a good mood. She and Charlotte must have made up, because Charlotte had come over after school with us, and Ginny had plugged her phone into the stereo to blast Handel’s Messiah and was singing along, although not lyrics that anyone, least of all Handel, had ever heard before. Ginny and Charlotte were at the kitchen table, cutting strips for paper chains—well, Ginny was cutting them, and Charlotte was making occasional half-hearted snips—and I was at the kitchen counter with cocoa and Kit Marlowe on my lap. Kit, perhaps overtaken by the Christmas spirit, had become more and more social, although he’d still stalk away if anyone looked at him for too long.

“Just so we’re clear,” I said, because it seemed like it needed to be said, “I don’t want any presents this year.”

“Christmas just won’t be Christmas without any presents!” Ginny gasped. Mom and I laughed.

“You know, I always wanted to try sleeping with a peg on my nose,” Mom said. “But I couldn’t quite figure out where to put the peg.”

“Please,” I said. “Ginny is the Amy.”

“Oh yeah? And who are you, Meg?”

“I’m Jo.”

“Everyone thinks they’re Jo,” Ginny said. “It’s like how everyone thinks they’re Lizzy and not, like, Mary.” She rolled her eyes and glanced at Charlotte for backup.

Charlotte looked blank. “What are you talking about?”

“Little Women?” Ginny said. “You know, the March sisters.”

“No, I don’t know,” Charlotte said stiffly. “Is everyone supposed to know Little Women?”

“What? No,” Ginny said. “Sorry. We just . . . bring this stuff up sometimes, I guess.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.