GUN IN MY HAND

CHAPTER 21: SURPRISE VISIT

'I must admit I thought I'd like to make you mine

As I went about my business through the warning signs

End up meeting in the hallway every single time

And there's nothing we can do about it'

"Are you trying to kill us?!"

I averted my gaze from the fidget toy I was carefully holding – and not spinning, so the tick-tocking wasn't coming from it, and it was just inside my chest – and I focused on the strange shape of bread in my sister's hand.

For my defense, she had willingly grabbed what was supposed to be a scone in the plate, and it was my mom who had dragged me into the kitchen to bake them. So I was innocent.

"Sorry..."

"Sorry?!" Daisy choked on my word, or maybe it was on a cranberry. It was hard to tell, but she took the opportunity to spit it all out in her napkin, elegantly of course. "When will you learn how to cook?"

"Here, take the ones I made." My mom handed her another plate of perfectly round pastries, which could immediately be recognized as scones, just like the ones in the other plate Diane had brought.

There were a lot of choices, and too many scones, or not-scones. I didn't know why my mom had forced me to bake some. Oh yes, I knew: to compare all our scones and find another occasion to remind me how untalented I was in the kitchen.

"It isn't hard. There's a recipe to follow," Daisy noted, while my mom shook her head with a disapproving look I was too familiar with, and I just took a scone, one of Daisy's.

I wasn't crazy, and they were indeed delicious, perfectly fluffy and sweet enough to make you want more like my mom would surely praise once she would be finished with my sermon in about five or ten minutes.

On that thought, my gaze instinctively found the large round clock on the opposite wall, whose needles were ticking too slowly, or maybe too quickly when I took in the six both were nearing, and my gaze came back to the half-filled cups of tea on the coffee table – the finest china, perfectly matching the rest of the crockery with all the little painted daisy flowers on top.

Of course, when Daisy had called to announce her visit a few hours ago, the most beautiful crockery had been taken out of the cupboards, along with our newest dresses and fresh bouquets of flowers – thanks to Spencer and his everyday apologies, this point had been easy. The whole house had also been cleaned. My mom had canceled her plans of going out for the day, and I had been dragged to the kitchen. 

Nothing was too good when the perfect daughter was coming, and especially since she had done a one-hour trip to wish me my birthday... almost two weeks late. But it was the thought that counted, and apparently, she had got the memo that my birthday had to be ruined this year.

"What will you do with your life? How do you expect to find a husband?"

I wasn't sure who had asked this as my mom's and my sister's voices sounded very much alike, especially when they sermoned me.

"Um, I could do my life by myself, find a job and make my own money."

Actually, their features were very similar too as their pale jade eyes widened the same way, and although I had the same attributes, in theory, I felt like my poor scones. It was the same ingredients: green eyes, red hair, freckles, and elegant dresses, but the result wasn't the same in the plate, and I shriveled like my scones on my seat as they both ignored me completely.