Page 32 of Ugly: The Stepsister's Story

Memories of the last evening started bubbling to the surface of my mind, but I repressed them. I could grin and bear it for Mother’s sake.

“Well, I hope Algernon and Cynthia are good at Charades because Comfort and I are a difficult team to beat.”

Mother beamed. “That is my good girl.”

I selected one of my wigs, and Mother carefully applied the powders and creams to my face, turning my head from side to side and concentrating deeply as she worked.

“There. You look perfect!” Mother declared at long last. “Do you want to see?” Her eyes roamed over the still shattered mirror fragments that littered the floor. “I can find a hand mirror if you want.”

“That’s alright. I trust you.”

Mother beamed. I could see a glimmer of her former self shining through. No longer was she the sad, hollow person I had become accustomed to. She seemed younger now. It was a shadow of the Mother I knew when Father was alive, but it was there. I wanted her to be happy again.

“Mother?” I said humbly. “I am so sorry about what I said yesterday.”

Mother wrapped her arms around me. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t give it a second thought. We all sometimes say things we don’t mean.” She held me at arm’s length. “And I hope you know that goes for Cynthia too.”

I nodded, looking down at my slippered feet.

“She is a sweet girl. You will see.”

I forced a smile, determined to be positive. “Well, I have the whole day to find out, don’t I?”

Relief flooded Mother’s face. She hugged me again. “Thank you, Truly. You are a treasure.”

Then she nodded toward the mess on the floor. “Don’t cut your feet on the way out. I will let the housekeeper know to come and tidy up in here for you.”

CHAPTER 27

I had more fun than I anticipated I would that day. It was my first time since the attack being out in public, and I had been dreading the walk through town the most. But by planting myself in the middle of our little family cluster, I seemed to go unnoticed. The town was quaint. There was a large town square with a stream running through the center, flowers blooming along the banks. Footbridges had been constructed over the water at strategic intervals, and shops dotted the perimeter of the square. I saw bakeries, blacksmiths, glassblowers, hat makers, cobblers, and the tailor shop Comfort had told me about. And indeed, some of the ugliest ball gowns I had ever laid eyes on were proudly displayed in the show window. I caught Comfort’s eye and we quickly held our hands up to our mouths to stifle our laughter.

It was interesting to watch Mother and Algernon. They strolled through town, holding hands. Occasionally, Mother would point and exclaim, “Truly, you simply must try this bakery’s cakes. They are magnificent!” or Algernon would pull coins from his pocket and have each girl toss a farthing into the wishing well. They seemed like any ordinary, happy couple. If I hadn’t known her past and had seen those two on the street together, I would have assumed that she and Algernon had been married for years.

Comfort bounced along beside me, cheerily waving to everyone. It seemed like everyone knew and liked her. The only one who looked like she wasn’t having a good time was Cynthia. She gave off an air of indifference to our company, and lingered at the rear of the group, as if she was trying to match her physical distance from us to the emotional distance she was feeling. Perhaps she was still embarrassed about the day before. I certainly had no idea how to approach the awkward conversation.

The situation seemed very similar to the conversation I had had with Curtis nearly all that time ago. In both situations, an uncomfortable situation had occurred, one that was difficult to address. Perhaps an upfront conversation would clear the air between us, give us a fresh start. It had worked once before.

I waited for a time when Comfort was walking with Mother and Algernon, and I hung back until I fell into step beside Cynthia. I saw her watching me out of the corner of her eye. I could have cut the tension between us with a knife. I wanted this day to be a success for Mother, and I did genuinely regret what I had said to Cynthia the day before.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I blurted out. This time Cynthia looked me full in the face. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I am really sorry. It was super nice to come apologize. If I had seen myself like that for the first time, I would have been shocked too.”

Cynthia didn’t say anything. So I rambled on to fill the silence. “Comfort has said a lot of nice things about you. She says you are a really good cook. Equal to any who worked at the castle.”

Compliments didn’t seem to be getting me anywhere either. She didn’t respond.

We crunched through the pebbled walkway together, wending our way back toward our manor. I tried to find a topic of conversation. When I had apologized to Curtis, we recovered our friendship nearly instantly. Just from a gut reaction, I knew this would be a much more drawn-out recovery for a relationship. Perhaps because we couldn’t recover what was never there. Perhaps boys and girls forgive in different ways. Cynthia finally spoke.

“Funny that your sister never mentioned anything about how you look.”

“Well, I asked her about that, actually,” I said, not sure if she was trying to be conversational or looking for yet another apology. “She said that she didn’t want to spread around stories that weren’t hers to tell.”

“I just think it would have been helpful to have been told in advance.”

I swallowed my annoyance at her frosty demeanor. I would have liked to snap back, but after all that Mother had done, after all that I had heard Algernon saying to Cynthia last night, I figured that I needed to do my best to start getting to know my stepsister.

“Okay, well how about we start over?” I suggested, and stopped in front of her. I resisted the urge to cover my face with my hand, veil, wig, anything to shield me from her penetrating gaze. She avoided looking at the left side of my face, and instead stared at my right shoulder.

I held out my hand. “Good morning, my name is Truly, and I am Lenora’s younger daughter. You must be Cynthia. Comfort has told me so much about you.”

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