Amelia Earhart: Lady Lindy Read Free Page A

could someone who did not like eggs or mayonnaise or anything normal eat these disgusting blobs? Maisie looked away.
    â€œEtiquette, my dear girl,” Great-Uncle Thorne said, tossing his empty shell into the sterling silver bowl with the interlocking
P
s engraved in it. “Eleven-year-olds—”
    â€œI’m twelve,” Maisie corrected him.
    â€œ
Children
,” he said, dipping a fresh mussel into the broth beneath the pile of
moules
, “are junior bridesmaids.”
    â€œBut then how can Felix be your best man?” Maisie persisted.
    Great-Uncle Thorne sighed dramatically.
    â€œNumber one,” he said, holding up his liver-spotted hand and raising one finger, “all of my friends are dead. Number two, I rather like the lad. He’ll be a fine best man.”
    â€œMerci,”
Felix said, chewing a
moule
.
    â€œWhat?” Maisie said. “You speak French now?”
    â€œGeez,” Felix said, “everyone can say
thank you
in French.”
    Great-Uncle Thorne gently placed his special mussel-plucking fork onto the edge of his bowl.
    â€œYou really are an unpleasant young woman,” he said. “Penelope has gone to great lengths to get you the most lovely moiré silk for your junior bridesmaid dress, and all you can do is complain. Complain and demand and scowl.”
    With that, he resumed eating.
    Maisie watched him chew. He chewed like an old man, she decided, which of course he was.
    â€œIt’s rude to stare at someone who is eating,” Great-Uncle Thorne said without even looking at her.
    â€œI wish I could just fly away from here,” Maisie announced, even though she didn’t
really
wish that because then she wouldn’t get to be the lead in
The Crucible
.
    â€œIf you do,” Great-Uncle Thorne said, “please wait until after the wedding.”
    Her mother was no help at all. Even though she had been the instigator of the divorce, now that Maisie’s father was getting married, she acted like he had no right to do that.
    â€œUm,” Maisie had reminded her mother, “didn’t
you
want the dumb divorce in the first place?”
    â€œIt’s one thing to want a divorce and to get a divorce and to actually be happier divorced, and it’s another thing to realize that your husband is going to marry another woman,” her mother had said, which made no sense at all to Maisie.
    â€œ
Ex-
husband,” Maisie had said.
    â€œI know,” her mother had agreed with a sigh. “I guess it’s just the reality of the situation.”
    Maisie had chalked this up to one of those weird adult things she didn’t understand.
    Earlier, Maisie had asked her mother’s opinion of what a junior bridesmaid’s duties were. Did she think they were different than a bridesmaid’s duties? Did junior bridesmaids get to walk down the aisle with grown-up men? Or was there some kind of junior-male thing as well? She imagined someone younger, shorter, in every way more junior than herself. Would she have to hold his arm? Sit with him? Dance with him?
    â€œI really don’t want to discuss your father’s wedding, if that’s okay with you, Maisie,” her mother had said primly.
    â€œWell, then can we discuss this in terms of Great-Uncle Thorne’s wedding, where I am also a junior bridesmaid?” Maisie demanded.
    â€œI have a brief to write,” her mother had said, picking up her briefcase and heading upstairs, which wasn’t an answer; it was an excuse.
    As if he’d read her mind, Great-Uncle Thorne said, “Where is your mother? Out with that Fishbaum fellow?”
    â€œShe’s working,” Felix said.
    â€œAll of a sudden the reality of her divorcing Dad has hit her, and she does not want to talk about it,” Maisie said.
    Great-Uncle Thorne looked perplexed.
    â€œI think all the wedding planning is wearing on her,” Felix added.
    â€œAh,” Great-Uncle