The Secret Sister by M. DeLuca (classic novels for teens txt) 📕

“Imagine you’re at a parent teacher meeting.”

“We don’t have them. The parents of my students are either at work doing their second or third job or out partying.”

He sighed. “Okay. Imagine they’re all naked and that’ll put just the right kind of smirk on your face. Drink plenty of champagne. Eat. You’ll be fine. It’s only a few friends and a couple of aunts and uncles. Oh and some cousins.”

“You’ll stay beside me the whole time?”

“Promise I won’t let you out of my sight,” he said, stroking the curve of my jawline and planting a kiss on my lips.

I let him carry me to the bedroom and dress me in the floaty dress. After I touched up my makeup, he appeared behind me carrying something that glittered like fire.

“Hold still,” he said, draping a necklace of tiny diamond-encrusted feathers round my neck. “Every bride needs something old. This was my grandmother’s. Mom told me to give it to you.”

He reached into his pocket and took out a small crocodile skin box. “And something new.”

I flipped it open to find diamond drop earrings in the shape of flowers. While I was fastening them on, he gently took hold of my foot and raised it so he could slip the cream and blue lace garter around my ankle and up my leg.

“You forgot the borrowed part,” I said, holding his face and kissing him. All the bad stuff went away when Guy was around me.

“Hmmhh,” he said, stroking his chin. “What can you borrow?”

Then I had a brainwave. A brilliant flash of light with Birdie standing in the center of it. “It’s okay. I have something. Wait right there.”

I ran to the closet where my old suitcase had been pushed into a corner, still packed. I dragged it out, careful not to touch its dusty surface on the perfect silk of my dress. I’d borrow something of Birdie’s. I’d kept a few things of hers that I’d get out every now and then to remind me of her.

A waft of musty air hit me when I opened the case. A fusty mix of mold, damp and rancid cooking oil was a powerful reminder of my other life – debt-ridden and miserable in a run-down apartment. Under all the cheap, creased clothing a black velvet box was tucked into the corner. Inside was a silver ring with a square green gem flanked by two pale blue stones. She’d lifted it from Kmart on one of her jaunts with Loni. Afterwards she’d get that ring out every night and put it on, then move her finger up and down so it sparkled and caught the light.

From the moment I saw it I wanted that ring. I remember lying on the frayed pink bedspread at the group home and watching her as she twirled around in front of the mirror, pouting and holding it to her face. But no matter how much I pleaded to try it on, she shook her head. A spiteful smile twisted the corners of her lips as she stuffed it in the inside pocket of her ratty green parka.

When Guy called to ask if I was ready, I snapped the suitcase shut. Next time he was teaching evening class I’d throw it in the garbage. Now I was married with an unlimited supply of money and credit I had no need of any of that cheap stuff from my old life.

But first I twirled around in front of the mirror looking at myself. I pouted and fluttered my eyelids like Birdie used to. The ring flashed like green fire under the halogen lights. So pretty. So shiny. Now I would sparkle for her. The way she always wanted to. Wearing her ring would bring her closer to me. As if she was with me at my wedding reception.

The long driveway up to Gord and Nancy’s place was a gallery of Porsches, BMWs, Jaguars, Mercedes and a smattering of SUVs. I always shivered at the sight of them. Large silver ghosts drifting through the night, their drivers concealed by a shield of tinted glass.

“You cold or scared?” asked Guy, reaching a hand over to steady me.

“Just spooked,” I said, chewing my lip.

“Smile and be gorgeous. You’ll enchant them,” he said, pulling up to the front door. “Just let them have their day.”

By this time Nancy, luminous and sleek in a shimmering, gray gown with a choker of large pearls, had appeared at the open door waving frantically at someone behind her. Guy held the car door open for me and I stepped out like Cinderella from her coach. I said to myself Birdie are you watching as I glided up the driveway on the arm of my handsome husband. Three little girls dressed in crisp white party dresses burst out from the house carrying silver baskets and throwing pink rose petals at our feet.

“My cousin Ronnie’s daughters,” whispered Guy. “They’re sweet kids.”

Silver pots of white hydrangeas filled the foyer with a sweet, heady smell and we entered the living room to a sea of faces. Maybe it was the flickering candles that cast long shadows across the walls, or maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t eaten a thing that day, but I was so lightheaded I almost fainted. Guy caught my elbow and someone dressed in a white shirt and black skirt thrust a drink into my hand from a silver tray. Gord’s voice boomed out, The bride and groom, Mr. and Mrs. Franzen, and champagne bubbles fizzed up my nose amid a loud burst of cheers and applause.

Soon people I’d never met were hugging and kissing me, wishing me a long, happy marriage. I mumbled out a few “thank you’s” and tried to fix a smile on my face.

Guy eventually rescued me, steering me towards the food table.

“Eat something before you pass out from starvation.” He fed me some creamy little confection made of mushroom, cheese and garlic. I ate two, followed quickly by a