My Fairy Godmonster Read Free Page B

Dad.” I remove my boots
outside the kitchen door. “Want me to shower, first?”
    He hesitates. “No, wash your hands and come
in and meet them.”
    We walk into the kitchen and I overhear a
soft, woman’s voice.
    “Otis, I cannot exist here.”
    A gravelly voice answers, “Come on, Erminia.
It’ll be like old times.”
    “I want to forget old times,” she
mumbles.
    Dad and I glance at each other. His face
looks grim.
    I turn the water on hard and wash up, hoping
the sound alerts our visitors. Following Dad into the living room,
I stop in the doorway. Dozens of suitcases and trunks fill every
space. The rich smell of new leather permeates the room.
    “Winifred, meet Mr. and Mrs. Otis Dudley. My
daughter, Winifred.”
    I stare. Rich doesn’t describe the wealth
that drips off these people. Mrs. Dudley’s jewels shine against her
slender black dress. Mr. Dudley wears an expensive grey suit with a
huge diamond tie tack.
    “Sure you want to stay here?” I blurt without
thinking.
    “Winifred, mind your manners.” Dad frowns at
me.
    Mrs. Dudley’s back straightens. She has dark
hair, a sharp pointed nose, small ears and a long, skinny neck. She
smiles. It doesn’t reach the black holes of her eyes. Eyes that
seem to suck you in. As much as I try, I can’t see her as anything
but a weasel.
    That’s how I think of people. Like what kind
of animal they’d be. Dad is like a horse: strong and handsome, a
member of the herd who knows his place. David is like a cougar:
smart, with grace and power. Not sure what I’m like. Maybe a deer,
ready to run at the sign of trouble, but with porcupine quills if
I’m pushed into a corner.
    “How do you do, Winifred,” Mrs. Dudley says
in a sweet, quiet voice.
    Uh-oh, I think. Cinderella’s wicked
stepmother has nothing on Mrs. Dudley.
    Weasel continues, a slight Eastern accent to
her voice, “I do hope you don’t mind our staying here. We want to
get to know our extended family and it would be inconvenient to
drive fifty miles back and forth to town while planning the
wedding.”
    “I hope you’ll be comfortable.” I hold out my
hand.
    Mrs. Dudley raises her nose an inch. She
takes the ends of my fingers and shakes them - like I’m
infected.
    “Sorry. Been shoveling manure.”
    Mr. Dudley’s cell phone rings. He grabs my
hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m sorry, I need to answer this. It’s
the only way I can leave my business for a month.”
    Mr. Dudley looks like the Angus bull on our
neighbor’s ranch, lots of beef with little feet for someone so big.
His southern twang is way different than his wife’s proper
accent.
    “Daria is already in your room,” Dad
says.
    Weasel sniffs, “She likes to get settled
right away. Charles said you wouldn’t mind.”
    Charles! She’s already calling Dad by his
first name? “Sure.” I force a smile. “It’ll be fun having someone
to share a room with.”
    My brother and John come in from the garden
laughing and smiling. David is holding hands with a girl. I gasp.
Claire is perfect with a slender body and abundant curves in the
right places. Her honey-blonde hair frames a face that is beautiful
and sweet. I worry when her big, blue eyes seem to look into my
soul. Can she see my wretched, jealous heart?
    “Win, this is Claire,” says David
proudly.
    Claire hugs me, not even caring how dirty I
am.
    “I am so happy to meet you.” Claire beams at
me. Her voice sounds like music. No wonder David loves her.
    “Welcome to Oregon,” I say to Claire, half
won-over in spite of myself.
    David whispers in my ear, “Isn’t she
great?”
    Mr. Dudley hangs up his phone and John shakes
his hand.
    “Hi, I’m John Masters, the best man.”
    “Otis Dudley and my wife, Erminia.”
    “Happy to meet you,” John says.
    “Let’s get you settled into your room, Sir.”
David picks up some suitcases.
    “Call me Otis, David.”
    “Think I’ll go meet my new roommate,” I
announce.
    I catch the look that passes between