The Fortune Teller's Daughter (A Steamy Fairy Tale Romance) by Jordan Bell

Author:Jordan Bell
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: erotic romance, fairy tale, steamy romance, alpha male, fairy tale romance, bbw romance, bbw erotic romance, carnival romance

FIFTEEN

Before.

We made paper crafts on Mondays to sell outside the tent as souvenirs. This was before the fighting and the blaming, back when I thought my mother called the moon into the sky every night and granted wishes and cast love spells on tourists.

We didn’t go to the market on Mondays, the traffic was always too slow to bother, so instead we covered the kitchen table in paper and glue and made things that didn’t exist before.

While I worked on a mobile of origami cranes, she made something else, something secret. She wouldn’t let me see it until she was done, but I caught sight of her pressing silver brads through layers of cut paper when she thought I wasn’t looking.

When I was done I hung my mobile in the tiny kitchen window in our apartment that stared out into a trash alley between buildings. Light changed through the colored paper and the cranes turned as the flew in sweeping, measured circles.

When my mother finished, she stood with a crossbar of popsicle sticks between her fingers, fine white thread dangling from each of the four corners. She curtsied and lifted her paper doll into the air for me to see.

My mother had created a paper marionette.

In my memory the light coming in through the window was buttery yellow and on it floated dust motes that fell and settled on the blue Formica kitchen table. I smiled and sat on the edge of the window bench and watched the tiny paper arms sashay, the waist bend, the dancer rise on tiptoes. The way the light struck Cora’s lovely black hair made her seem so much younger than she ever was.

Before the dancer finished her number, my mother’s fingers twisted and I saw that there wasn’t just one set of crossbar sticks, but two, and with a turn the dancer became not one, but two, joined at the hip to her sister. Four legs performed several quick degagé steps, then two legs performed an arabesque, their outside legs stretched long at the hips.

“Olivia,” she said, fluttering the left girl on toe-point, then the right. “Suzette.” They were identical dolls except for their eyes. Olivia had wide round orbs and Suzette’s were narrow and seeking. My mother waggled her fingers and both dancers performed a series of jumps.

“I knew them once,” she said. “Conjoined twins from Avignon. One of them loved easily. The other one lied easily. I adored them both.”

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