The Bookworm Next Door: The Expanded and Revised Edition (37 page)

Chapter Eighty-One

              Pacing back and forth, the three sisters looked at the note left in their mailbox.  It was in a slightly familiar handwriting, a slant that they had only seen inside the pages of books long left behind. 

              “Why does she want to see us?”

              “How does she know about my wedding?”

              “Do you think she wants to take her books back?”

              Charlotte and Samantha looked at their sister before looking at each other.  Samantha decided to take the reins and ask, “You are worried about her books?”

              “I… um… may have loaned David and some of my friends one or two of them.  One or two of Grace’s younger siblings may have, I mean definitely have gotten one or two, or perhaps three, of the books wet with various drinks of the soda and sports drink and fruit juice varieties…” Delilah halting explained.  “And… um… Kelly may be still reading one of them.  David’s mother might have mistaken one of our copies for one of her copies and David hasn’t been able to get the book in question back.” 

              She trailed off when she realized that Charlotte and Samantha were just staring at her.  Suddenly they converged on her with a bear hug.  “Our little bookworm has spread her wings,” one of them spoke into her hair.  The other stated, “About time that you realized that books were meant to be shared.” 

              Pulling back, “But Charity or Adam or Benjamin destroyed some of her books,” Delilah whispered, still unable to call Veronica David Blackburn by the nouns ‘mom’ or ‘mother.’  She was she and that was final. 

              “It doesn’t matter,” Charlotte explained.  “She left them behind and if she cared about what condition they ended up in then she should have taken them with her.  Dad could have burned them on the grill or in the Carver’s fire pit for all she knew.”

              Clearing her throat, Samantha interrupted, “Actually, Dad did burn one or two of them in the neighbor’s fire pit.  I managed to stop him from destroying the rest.”  Scanning the titles on Delilah’s bookcase, she added, “But I think Delilah here has a better collection.”

              “Thanks to David,” the youngest Davis daughter blushed.  “He gives me books and we read them at the same time.  Sometimes even together.” 

              Her sisters let out a simultaneous “Aww” that caused Delilah’s blush to spread even further.

              Samantha, mostly the logical sister, interrupted and brought them back to reality, “So… are we going to meet her?”

              Charlotte looked at Delilah.  Delilah looked at Samantha.  Samantha ended up looking at Charlotte because it was slightly weird making uninterrupted eye contact with Delilah.  Finally, the bookworm broke their silence. “I think we have to.”

              “I can’t guarantee that I won’t drop ice cream in her lap,” Charlotte, the dramatic sister, sighed.  “Or that I won’t enjoy it.” 

              Waiting at one of the back corner tables, Veronica Davis Blackburn watched the front door at the local diner three days later.  She was cutting things close, but she suspected that a shortened timeline would make her invitation to Samantha’s wedding more possible than not. 

              She didn’t know what to expect.  For all she knew one of her daughters could have dyed her hair black or blue – or both! – or had decided to wear all black – only behind the curtains during theatre performances – or something equally atrocious. 

              Suddenly three girls with varying shades of brown hair, one closer to red than the others, entered the diner.  The auburn haired one, she noticed, had eyes very similar to her green eyes.  A brief moment of panic exploded inside of her and Veronica had a quick desire to disappear into the nearest restroom.  On the other side of the diner which would have had her passing by her daughters. 

              Their reactions were as different as their personalities.  Samantha’s eyes narrowed as she spotted their mother.  Charlotte froze before looking around at the people who were now beginning to notice the Davis daughters standing motionless.  Delilah had taken a step forward before taking another one backwards.  Another half-step suggested that she was tempted to keep stepping backwards until she was outside of the diner. 

              It was Samantha who tugged her sisters towards her.  Veronica managed to plaster a smile on her face and stood up to greet them.  “Hello,” she mumbled. 

              “Where have you been for the past four years?” Charlotte asked in her typical stage manager, point blank manner. 

              “No ‘hello’ in return?” she responded, looking blankly at the middle daughter.

              “Hello, Mother, where have you been for the past four years?” Charlotte repeated with a cursory greeting. 

              “Hello, Mother, what are you doing here?” Samantha added.

              “Hello, Mother, what do you want?” Delilah concluded. 

              Blinking, Veronica didn’t expect to be bombarded so quickly.  “I married Reginald Blackburn three years ago.  I came hoping that you would let me go to your wedding.  I want a relationship with my daughters again.” 

              The three sisters stood up, moved outside, and started conversing.  A few minutes later they returned to the table, much to the relief of the ease-dropping crowd.  Instead of sitting down Samantha said the only response that the three had decided on. 

              “You can go to my wedding, but don’t expect us go along with anything else.”  As one the three girls left again following Samantha’s invitation. 

Chapter Eighty-Two

              It was the last wedding of the summer.  Samantha and Jacob had the trees and bushes in the Hansford Gardens decorated in twinkle lights.  Inside were more twinkle lights strung along the rafters, in vases on the center of tables, and in various other random places throughout the reception area.  It was a hopeless romantic’s dream. 

              Jacob Turner had allowed his significant other free reign, not thinking about the fact that she was a hopeless romantic in a sane person’s body.  If she was happy then he would be happy.  The less stress that Sam had to deal with concerning the wedding and interfering parents the better it was for both of their mental health. 

              His phone ringing caught his attention.  The various groomsmen tried to keep the phone away from him, but it wouldn’t work when the ringtone belonged to Sam. 

              “Hey, Baby,” he answered the phone, ignoring the heckling coming from his brother, best friend, and two other friends.  “She’s what!”

              On the other end of the phone, Samantha Davis answered his question.   “My mother is in town and I invited her to come to the wedding.  I suspect she’ll take off right after.” 

              He rolled his eyes, hoping that the aftermath of Veronica Davis would not be far-reaching.  “It’ll be fine,” he tried to reassure her.  All he could think about was how long it had taken him to convince her to go on a date with him their freshmen year of college.  He would have given up if it hadn’t been for Samantha’s best friend advising him to not give up on her. 

              Ginger Peyton – with matching hair – handed over Sam’s veil.  For a moment she was more than thankful that Samantha understood Ginger’s reluctance to stand in front of the crowd.  Crowds and public speaking gave her hives, but she wouldn’t miss out on helping the bride get ready for her big day. 

              Sam was starting to panic.  “You don’t think Mom is going to do something to ruin the wedding, do you?” she asked the room.  The series of “no”, “I doubt it,” and other negatives filled the room.  They didn’t take away her feeling of dread. 

 

 

              Everything went according to plan.  Nobody tripped.  Nobody drank too much.  Even Veronica had disappeared to parts unknown. 

              But Samantha was right.  Nobody had seen her talking to David during the reception.  Nobody noticed her quizzing him about his relationship with Delilah.  Nobody noticed how angry and controlled David became towards the Mother of the Bride. 

              Thankfully, the bride was nowhere nearby when everything nearly fell apart. 

              Veronica looked over at the boy next door; she always thought he could do better than one of her bookish daughters.  Without a word she tugged him into the empty seat right next to her.  “We need to talk.”

              “Hello, Mrs. Davis.  Long time no see.  When are you going to crawl back into the hole you came out of?”  All David could think about was how this woman had abandoned her three daughters without a word and had decided to randomly reappear just because one of them was getting married. 

              “Well, that isn’t a very nice way to treat one of my daughter’s guests and at her wedding reception at that.”  Clearing her throat, “And it’s Blackburn.”

              “We all suspected you ran off with the mailman.”  Standing to get away from her overdone cheap perfume, David held back a wince when she grabbed his wrist.

              “Now listen to me,” she hissed, the anger behind her words masked by her calm façade.  “You will break up with my daughter or I’ll get you kicked out of the college you plan on attending with my daughter.”

              Leaning forward, “Your information is out of date; I’m going to school across the state from Delilah and only at her insistence.  Do not threaten me with weak threats that you cannot follow up on.  I’ve spent the last four years dealing with a childish and manipulative classmate who for some reason is obsessed with me.  I deserve a little happiness and I’m not going to let the Wicked Witch from the Fridge North swoop in and ruin my relationship.  Delilah is happy and until Delilah is no longer happy I will be in her life.”    

              Wrenching his wrist from her grasp, David was tempted to look down at his wrist to see if she had left behind claw marks.  He had two choices: tell Delilah or leave the Davis sisters in the dark about the true nature of their mother. 

              Watching Samantha and her new husband doing more gazing than dancing in the middle of the floor, he quickly made his decision.  He would tell them later, tonight he wanted to dance with his girlfriend. 

 

Acknowledgements

              This is for my previous readers.  Thank you.  Without your feedback on Amazon and Goodreads I wouldn’t have been able to put together a better – and final – edition.  That’s the beauty of self-publishing – things can be corrected and made better.  Thank you for your patience while I corrected a story that I thought was already finished before. 

              Thank you to the new readers for deciding to give my story a try.  I can’t do any of this without my readers.  I hope you all enjoy entering a new world. 

              And thank you to my friends who have been there throughout this entire process of edits and revisions, additions and subtractions.  I know I’ve driven you all crazy with my, “Wait, there’s a new edition to read.  Don’t read that one!” Thank you for your patience. 

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