Flunked (Fairy Tale Reform School, #1)(4)
“No,” I assure him and lift my cloak to reveal a satchel full of dinner rolls. My siblings try to grab some. “Wait!” I say, looking around the room. We can barely fit in the living room despite only having a fireplace and one shabby couch.
The walls of the boot have patches to keep out the cold from cracks in the leather exterior. The patches look like paintings, of which we have none. A single drawing of a field of lilies hangs above our fireplace. My sister Anna drew it one night when we were too cold to sleep. The cuckoo clock on the wall chimes six, and I know Father will be home from the shop soon. “Where’s Mother?”
“Mother is in the kitchen with Anna, finishing her birthday cake,” Trixie says. “Do you want me to go around the back of the boot, knock, and leave the rolls there again?”
“Yes, after you’ve each eaten a roll first.” I open the satchel again and let them each take a roll. They devour the bread within seconds.
The shoe business isn’t what it used to be and money is scarce. Sure, we have three meals, if you call half a cup of chicken broth a meal. If it weren’t for my hauls from the market, my siblings would waste away. Instead, the twins finally have a little weight on them and the dark rings around Trixie’s eyes have disappeared.
I do what I can to help out around here. And that includes making sure my siblings are fed enough and get a birthday gift. I could buy a lot with that dragon tooth clip I stole today, but the minute I saw it, I knew I was going to keep it for Anna. The green in the clip matches her eyes, and I could picture her using it to pull back her long hair. She will never let that clip out of her sight, unlike that spoiled royal. That’s for sure.
That’s why I targeted Blondie today. I only pluck from people who can afford to lose things. Royals can definitely afford to lose a few trinkets. So can the baker whose business is booming and who treats Mother poorly whenever she comes in to see if he has any day-old bread on sale. The royals are part of the reason we live in this overcrowded boot, so I don’t feel bad taking from them.
“Gilly? Is that you?” I hear Mother’s voice and quickly give Trixie the satchel to deposit on the back steps.
Mother looks tired as she comes over to give me a hug, smelling like a mixture of flour and leather, which means she must have had to help Father in the shop earlier. I sink into her like I would a soft pillow.
“You okay?” she asks. Her blue eyes look tired. “Your cheeks are flushed.”
“Fine,” I say. “I just hurried home from studying so I wouldn’t miss cake.”
“How do you think you did on your test?” Mother asks.
How hard can a test on shoe polishes be? I took it and then left school for the rest of the day to find Anna’s present. “Great,” I say with enthusiasm. “Probably got an A.”
“You’re home.” Anna removes her apron. She has flour on her cheeks and in her brown curls. She’s wearing that Rapunzel perfume I snagged her a few weeks back (and claimed it was a free sample. Anna hates my thieving.). “You’re just in time for cake!”
“Cake? What happened to presents first?” I tease.
Mother looks downward. “Gillian, you know business has been slow.”
“That doesn’t mean magic hasn’t found its way to our boot!” I try to sugarcoat everything for my brothers and sisters. “Look what I found near the Pegasus stables this afternoon.” I pull the comb out of my pocket and they gasp. “It practically begged to be rescued.” Anna reaches out to touch the golden comb as if she can’t believe it’s real. “I guess it was meant for you.”
“Someone dropped it,” Anna says, being her noble self. “We should find the owner.”
“Nonsense!” I put the comb in her open palm. “Finders keepers, losers weepers. Isn’t that what Hamish says?” Anna doesn’t look convinced. “I asked one of the stable guys if he knew whose it was,” I improvise. “He didn’t and said I should keep it.”
Anna’s face lights up. “Really?” Mother smiles as Anna uses the comb to pull her curls to one side. She runs to the small mirror near the door. “It’s so pretty! Thank you, Gilly!”
I’m about to say “You’re welcome” when I hear the lock turn. Father is home. My siblings hurry across the creaky floorboards and stand near the front door. Mother brushes off her apron and Anna jumps to her place next to her. We all line up like we’re a processional at a ball. “Hello, Father,” we say as if on autopilot. Mother does too.
“Family,” Father says as he hands Mother his hat and cloak to hang up. The smell of shoe polish radiates off him like stinky perfume. “Are we ready to eat?”
“Yes,” Mother says. “You can go in first and I’ll feed the children after.”
I bite my lip. Father always gets to eat alone and takes the biggest portion. Mother says he needs his strength and quiet after working so hard. I hear Han’s stomach growl.
“Okay,” Father says, stopping to ruffle my brothers’ heads and kiss Trixie and Anna. When he sees me, he freezes. “Gillian.”
“Father.” I bow my head. The two of us are not on the best of terms these days. He’s tired of getting visits from Pete, and I’m tired of us going hungry. Neither of us is willing to budge.