The Secret of the Medaillon
Page 8
“Oh, really?” Anna went up to her and lifted her starched white apron. “Is this what your life will be? Ironing your husband’s clothes, washing pots and scrubbing floors? A baby every year?” She stomped back to her suitcase and slammed it shut. “No, thank you! I want something more out of life. And I’m going to get it!”
Sarah shook her head sadly. “And what do you want, Anna?”
Anna glanced up, and her sister shivered at the look on her beautiful face, a reflection of her own. “Everything,” she said guilelessly.
Mamm had been unable to sleep and instead prayed for Anna.
Sarah thought about telling her wayward schweschder, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. Anna had been drifting away from the church long before she proved it by refusing to bring her Bible. “Lord,” Sarah prayed silently, “don’t let Anna stray too much. I don’t know if I’ll be able to bring her back.”
A stewardess broke her reverie long enough to inform her that they would be landing soon and to please retrieve her schweschder. Sarah reluctantly unbuckled herself to go hunting for Anna. She found her ensconced in the restroom. “Anna?’ Sarah whispered, knocking quietly. “Are you in there?”
“What do you want?” Anna hurled at her through the door. “I’m busy!”
“We’ll be landing soon. You have to go back to your seat.”
“Fine!” Anna grumbled as she flung open the door. Sarah gasped in horror. Her schweschder somehow managed to find a leather biker jacket, halter-top, mini-skirt, stockings with holes in them, and heavy black boots.
Sarah’s hands flew to her eyes. “Where did you get such things?” she demanded.
Anna grinned, revealing a set of dimples in her soft cheeks. “Like it?” She twirled about. “I traded Mamm’s new quilt with those Englischers. You know, the ones from San Antonio?”
Her sister’s mouth dropped open. “H-how could you?” Sarah hissed angrily. “That was their money! You know they’re saving for a new buggy!”
Anna shrugged as her sister trailed behind. Sarah hung her head in shame as several men leered at the mini-skirted blonde. Anna stuffed the backpack into the overhead and plopped down in her seat. “Win some, lose some,” she tossed back carelessly. “When we land, I’m buying makeup.”
“Have you no shame?" Sarah whispered in outrage as she buckled her seatbelt. “Mamm would be horrified, not to mention Daed!”
“Lighten up,” Anna hissed back, buckling hers. “I don’t need my schweschder telling me what to do or how to dress. Just chill, will you? Chill out!”
“And where did you pick up such language?”
Anna rolled her eyes. “It’s called television. You know those little boxes with pictures that move?”
“And when did you get your hands on one, may I ask?”
“The Englischers were very helpful when I told them about Rumspringa,” Anna grinned. “And their son was a cutie!”
Sarah turned away from her schweschder and fumed the rest of the way to New York. When she caught sight of The Statue of Liberty, Sarah felt like screaming. All the joy of seeing that grand lady was snatched away by her sister’s selfishness.
Anna, she noted, sat happily munching through her snack box.
Sarah hoped she’d choke.
Mr. Richardson was there to greet them at the airport. He was a short, stocky man with salt and pepper hair. His eyes widened at Anna’s appearance and cast a questioning glance at her twin. Sarah could only shrug helplessly and peer down at her dress. She hadn’t thought about changing until she got to New York. Now she began to wonder if Anna was right.
Mr. Richardson helped with their bags and escorted them outside to his car. “How was your flight, girls?”
“Fine, Mr. Richardson,” Sarah said politely. “Though we didn’t have lunch.”
“Well, we’ll see what we can do about that,” he said, laughing. “Hop in girls.”
Sarah crawled into the backseat while Anna took the front. When Anna turned to gloat at her schweschder, Sarah stuck her tongue out at her. The smile slid off Anna’s face, and she turned away to sulk knowing she’d gone too far.
“Where do you live, Mr. Richardson?” Sarah asked as he drove away from the terminal.
“Greenwich Village,” he answered. “It’s a townhouse. You’ll love it, girls. You can walk just about anywhere.”
“What about nightclubs, Mr. Richardson?” Anna tossed at him much to her sister’s chagrin. “I want to party!”
Mr. Richardson laughed nervously. “I don’t know about that. Michelle probably knows.”
Sarah settled back in her seat, wondering if it was too late to shove Anna out of the car.
“What’s the factory like?” Sarah found herself asking. “Is it very large?”
“It’s not really a factory,” he said, peering into the rearview mirror. “It’s more like a fabric warehouse.”
“But it’s large, right?”
“Don’t let that scare you,” he chuckled. “It’s just a place to store fabric.”
“Oh.”
The ride to Greenwich took less than an hour and soon Mrs. Richardson and the girls were welcoming them with open arms. Michelle was a lanky brunette with model good looks while her sister was a miniature version of her father with black hair and porcelain white skin.
Anna ignored the wide-eyed stares her wardrobe garnered and pranced up the stairs like she owned the place. Sarah found herself apologizing for her sister’s lack of manners.
“Don’t worry about it,” Michelle told her. “She’s just excited. I know I’d be.”
“You don’t know Anna,” Sarah replied sadly.
After a large lunch of pepperoni pizza and soda, Sarah and Anna were ushered upstairs to their room. Sarah dropped her bags on the carpet in awe. “It’s beautiful!” she gushed. She’d never seen such a place. The walls were pale aqua with white ceiling and trim. Small chandeliers hung from the ceiling, while snowy white duvet covers, bed skirts, and matching shams adorned the twin beds. Blue floral quilts added a dash of color to the all-white scheme.
Sarah went to one bed and sat down gingerly. Anna dumped her bags on her bed and left. Sarah didn’t see her again until supper. Sighing, she decided to change and unpack. A small dresser was filled with all the clothes Mamm had either sewn or purchased at a modest shop in town. Since it was warm, Sarah decided on blue Capri pants and matching top. For shoes, she donned a pair of ballet flats. As for her hair, she decided to unbraid it, brush it out, and place it in a ponytail.
After that, Sarah decided to take up Michelle and Angela’s offer to show her around the house. They’d go for an ice cream afterward.
“This is our room,” they said, opening the door. Sarah gasped. The room was larger than she and Anna’s combined. Decorated tastefully in varying shades of pale green and ivory, the room was the epitome of youth and femininity.
“It’s gorgeous!” she breathed. “Who decorated it?”
“We did,” they answered brightly. “Dad gave us all the fabric, and we had the duvets custom made.”
“What does your room look like?” Angela asked.
“Daed let me paint the walls,” Sarah explained awkwardly. “And I made the quilt and curtains.”
“You can sew?” Michelle queried. Sarah nodded. “That’s great!” she said, patting Sarah on the back. “Maybe you can help us with our prom dresses.”
“Michelle!” Angela exclaimed. “Prom is a year away!”
Michelle glared at her sister. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to plan.”
Sarah laughed as their bickering continued over supper and into the evening. Mrs. Richardson finally snapped at them to knock it off and sent them to bed. Sarah did the same, and as she undressed, Anna came trudging in, looking much the worse for wear.
“And where have you been?” Sarah demanded, eyeing Anna’s hair, or what was left of it. A good four inches had been shorn off. “You cut your hair?” she nearly screamed. “Why?”
“Don’
t start,” Anna groaned, tugging off her boots. “I already got a lecture from Mr. Richardson, and it’s my hair and I’ll cut it if I want.”
“Mamm will be so disappointed,” Sarah said, grabbing a towel and her toothbrush. She disappeared into the bathroom across the hall to wash her face.
Anna flung off her jacket and tossed it on the floor. She lay back on the bed and stretched lazily like a cat, watching as her other half came back with her face freshly scrubbed and hair neatly braided. “You make me sick,” she flung at her schweschder.
“Now what have I done?” Sarah said irritably. She slid into bed and turned off the bedside lamp. “You missed dinner. Mrs. Richardson was insulted, I think.”
“I’m sure there're plenty of leftovers.”
“You should apologize to her at least.”
“I’ll apologize when I get good and ready,” Anna grumbled, pulling a pillow over her head to muffle her sister’s nagging. “You’re not my mother.”
“No,” Sarah whispered sadly. She turned over and pulled the quilt over her shoulders. “I’m not.”
*** End of Bonus Chapter***
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