“Next to your curves and coloring, I look like a member of the Lollypop Guild.” I pursed my lips to the side and squinched up one eye.
She hooted a laugh. “Keep making that face and they might make you an honorary munchkin.” She grabbed her bag and fished a tip out of her wallet. “We should go. The caretaker, Mrs. Dell, will be meeting us at the cottage soon.”
I licked my finger and dredged it through the crumbs on my plate before popping the sweet morsels into my mouth. “Sure. Just let me get a bag of those scones to go.”
“That’s my girl.”
When I was six years old, my dad took me to see a rerelease of Disney’s Snow White. Every day for weeks afterward, I searched the woods behind our house for the seven tiny men and their little cottage, all while evading the evil queen and her huntsman. With childlike conviction, I knew my prince would come and that good would ultimately triumph over evil.
Dunbrae Cottage, with its rounded gables, thatched roof, and wild English garden, was surrounded by the same sense of magic, and it made me long for the girl I’d once been, the one who believed fairy tales could be real. But that naive faith in happily-ever-after had been ripped from me long ago.
Removing a pile of pajamas from my suitcase, I crossed the bedroom to the antique cherry dresser and placed them inside. Kenna had slipped into the hall to talk to her dad; he’d called to make sure she’d made it safely to Alloway. For some reason, that simple, loving gesture hit me hard. Maybe it was because I hadn’t heard a peep from my mom in the last twenty-four hours.
“Seriously, Vee. You do realize these come in movie form?”
I whirled to find Kenna sitting on the bed, sorting through the books covering the bottom of my suitcase. “Besides, when are you going to have time to read these anyway? We’re on vacation.”
I walked over and gathered a stack of paperbacks topped by a tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice. They were my most prized possessions, procured from yard sales and thrift stores over the years whenever I had a few dollars to spare. No way was I leaving my treasures home with Janet. They’d end up as kindling in the backyard fire pit.
With the care of a mother tucking in her babies, I lined the volumes up on the dresser in alphabetical order. “Reading helps me fall asleep.” And not feel so alone. But I didn’t say that as I turned back to the suitcase and found Kenna bouncing lightly on the bed, clearly over the book conversation.
“So, what do you think of the place?” She stilled, expectation widening her eyes.
“You were right. It’s just like a fairy tale. A better setting than anything you and I ever dreamt up for our plays.” I scooped up a few more books and placed them on the nightstand, making sure the spines were perfectly aligned.
“The Reid-Welling Production Company! I totally forgot.” Kenna’s storm-colored eyes glittered with remembrance.
As kids, we’d fashioned costumes from the old clothing and junk, creating our own world of make-believe. “You were quite the little drama queen, even then,” I teased, remembering how she would jump up and down and clap her hands in excitement every time I’d tell her about a new play idea, no matter how simplistic or sappy it was. I’d been content to take the supporting role—male lead, ugly stepsister, wicked witch, or whatever was required—as long as she liked my stories.
“And you were quite the storyteller. Must be all that reading you do.” She waved her hand and spat the word out like it disgusted her as she walked over to the dresser and picked up a small, antique-looking clock. She turned it over and began to fiddle with the back.
“What are you doing?”
She flashed me an expression of impatience. “Setting the clocks ahead, silly.”
“Why?” I had to hear this.
“So we won’t be late for anything. You know how I hate being late.”
I loved my friend but sometimes her logic confounded even me. “You could just try getting ready earlier.”
Cutting me off with a shake of her head, she set the clock down. “Doesn’t work.”