The Wordsmith by Tess Thompson

Author:Tess Thompson [Thompson, Tess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 4kids5cats Editions

12

Addie

The moment we were in my room, Delphia flopped onto the made bed and tossed a throw pillow against the wall. “Can you believe her? Saying our house is small and that you’re a hobbyist. I hate her.”“

If I hadn’t been quite so miserable, my little sister would have made me laugh. “If I were in a war, I’d want you by my side.” I unpinned my hat and left it on my dressing table. With my fingers, I fluffed my hair back into shape, wincing at the sore spots where the pins had pulled at my scalp.

“The heat’s unbearable.” I tugged my shoes and stockings off my damp skin and placed them neatly in the wardrobe before helping myself to a glass of water from the pitcher on the dresser.

“This is a war, Addie.” Delphia sat up, glaring at me. Not in the same way she’d just done with Lena but in a sisterly way, exasperated but loving at the same time. I’d heard about secret codes during the war. My sister and I had them, too.

“It’s a war I can’t win. Even if I convinced him to marry me instead, he’d eventually become resentful for ruining his family.” I sank into the window seat and bent my knees, holding on to my bare legs under the skirt of my dress as if I might fall from grace otherwise. Outside, the flowers wilted under the heat, tucking their heads in repose.

She tugged off her shoes and hurled them toward the fat chair in the corner of the room. They bounced off the cushion and fell onto the floor. “This is maddening.” Delphia sprang up from the bed and began pacing around the room in a circle. When we were small, she’d done the same thing, pretending a tiger was chasing her. “What are we supposed to do? Accept this?”

“What else can we do?” I rested my chin on my knees and fought tears. “We have to pretend that I don’t care. I can’t let her know how much it hurts. At least I’ll have my pride.” I looked over at my sister, who now leaned her back against one corner of the four-poster bed frame.

“Pride? Isn’t that what you’re always lecturing me about? ‘Don’t be so prideful, Delphia.’” She mimicked my breathy voice.

I sighed, the headache I’d feigned taking hold now. “Will you deny me even that?”

She scrunched up her face, clearly remorseful for making me feel worse. “No, you may have your pride. I understand perfectly well.”

This made me smile a little. “Thank you.”

“I wish there were something I could do. You know I don’t like to be helpless.” Delphia came to sit next to me on the window seat, placing her feet so they met mine.

Bookends, I thought. I would always have my sister. And the others, plus Mama and Papa. I had to remember this when feeling sorry for myself. I was blessed with love. “I understand, but in this case, we have to accept that not everything we want is what we will get.

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