Spring Clean for the Peach Queen by Sasha Wasley

Author:Sasha Wasley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pantera Press

In the city, there was always something open on Christmas Day, even if it was just a corner deli. In Bonnievale, every business was closed. Even the co-op. My sudden panicked urge to buy everyone Christmas presents on a total budget of twenty bucks was pipped at the post. It was a bit of a relief, because the presents would have sucked and I would have had literally nothing left in my purse.

Hell, I really needed to get a job.

I arrived at my parents’ place just before ten. It was unusually tidy: the chaotic desk my parents had always used for the Rabbit’s Foot paperwork was gone from the front room, the carpet where it had stood slightly darker than the rest of the floor. I was reminded of my grandmother’s front room – neutral and extremely clean. The rest of the house matched. Elizabeth, still in her pyjamas on the couch, was the only untidy thing in the living room. A big mug of coffee rested on her comfortable thighs and an open box of chocolates sat next to her feet on the coffee table.

‘Is that breakfast?’ I said.

‘You know it. It’s Christmas!’ She tossed me a gold-wrapped truffle.

‘Merry Christmas, Lottie.’ Dad enveloped me in his signature big, firm hug with a kiss planted on the top of my head. He pulled back and examined my face, his eyebrows pulling together. ‘What’s this?’ He touched the fading bruise on my cheek.

‘Oh, it’s okay. I just took a tumble.’

Mum appeared, tablecloth in hand, her face expressionless. ‘Hello, Lottie. Merry Christmas.’

Left with no other choice, I approached her for a Christmas greeting. She rested a hand on my arm as we placed light, careful kisses on one another’s cheeks like distant relatives. She turned away immediately and flapped the green cloth out across the dining table. Elizabeth met my eyes and tossed me another chocolate.

‘We’ve already done the prezzies,’ she said casually, then mouthed ‘sorry’ at me.

I shot her a carefree smile, audition face on. ‘I’m broke, anyway.’

‘I got you something.’

Elizabeth rolled over and snatched a gift bag off the coffee table. Inside was a little sample kit of designer perfumes. I didn’t dare tell her I’d thrown out several bottles of exactly the same fragrances just a few weeks back.

‘You remembered all my favourite brands,’ I said. ‘Thanks, Lizzy.’

I hugged her because it was the perfect gift for the previous incarnation of Lottie, and that touched me. Dad handed me a coffee and I sat down with Elizabeth to gaze at Mariah Carey and Michael Bublé on a Christmas special. My thoughts wandered to Angus’s windchime, his face as I thanked him. As much as I’d wanted those old-Lottie things to be burned and gone, they’d survived two bonfires, morphing into strange new objects. The fact that Angus had returned to collect them, drilled holes into them, and turned them into something beautiful, made me feel very odd. Good-odd. It was the perfect gift for the new incarnation of Lottie. And Mrs Brooker’s handmade doilies were, as well.

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