Page 234 of Naughty Nelle

CHAPTER 21

Ican forget about writing a complaint letter to Shrink. I simply don’t have the time. Seriously, compared to what I have to do now, my days at Faraway seem positively enchanted.

In less than twenty-four hours, I’ve learned that being Marcella’s personal assistant means doing all the stuff she doesn’t want to do. Which is everything except sleeping, preening, and reading gossip magazines. I’ve already lost weight from running her errands and picking up after her. Plus, I have calluses the size of toad warts from handwriting so many invitations. And I’m only up to the B’s.

To add insult to injury, on top of all my chores, I’m expected to entertain Calla. Marcella, her soon-to-be new mother, wants little do with the child. Actually, make that absolutely nothing.

At lunchtime, Calla begs to go on a picnic. Marcella backs off. She has a private dance lesson—one thing off my To-Do List. After that, she’s going to spend the afternoon in bed, scanning magazines for ball gown ideas. So, I’m stuck with the picnic thing.

“It’s going to be so much fun,” says Calla as we head out the door.

Believe me, hanging out with an irksome imp is so not my idea of fun.

Calla leads the way. I keep my eyes on her as she skips across the front lawn of the castle toward the gated entrance. Her long golden tresses fly behind her, and her sheer dress bellows in the early autumn breeze. Birds and butterflies follow her as if they’re magically drawn to her.

As I trudge along carrying a blanket and picnic basket, I feel a tinge of envy. Not so much of her youth and beauty, but rather her freedom and joy. I’m also a little jealous that her fair skin is impervious to the sun while I’m probably getting another layer of freckles. Okay. I confess. I’m a lot jealous.

Crossing a field of flowers, we come to a sparkling lake. Lake Sunshine. That figures. Calla finds the perfect spot for our picnic—under a large, leafy tree, not far from the shoreline. She helps me spread out the blanket. Famished, we both dig into the picnic basket she’s filled with fresh fruit and muffins. Suddenly, it just happens…

A fart! The longest, loudest, stinkiest fart I’ve ever heard. Mine!

“You’re the one who dealt it. But I’m the one who smelt it!” Calla bursts into laughter.

Mortified, I’m at a total loss for words. Until Calla farts right back at me. I, too, laugh uncontrollably.

The two of us cannot stop rolling with laughter. I’ve never laughed so hard in my life. I laugh so much it hurts.

“Are you okay?” asks Calla, fighting her giggles.

“I’m fine.” I laugh harder.

Finally, after the stench of my faux pas and hers has faded into the fall air, we’re able to calm down.

“What do you think of Marcella?” asks Calla, picking a dandelion.

Skank. Bitch. Wench. Witch.

“She’s okay,” I say instead. “How do you feel about her?”

“That woman’s a FREAK!”

Good one!This kid is growing on me.

“I don’t know why Papa likes her.” She twirls the fuzzy flower. “It’s as if she has some kind of spell on him.”

My curiosity is piqued. “How did your father meet her?”

“Papa hired her to be my governess. She speaks French, at least she thinks she does. Her accent’s so fake! Then I guess he figured I needed a new mother and decided to marry her.”

“How do you feel about that?” I ask, deepening my inquiry and sounding a little Shrink-like.

“C’est tout à fait stupide!”she says with a perfect French accent. Though I don’t speak much French, what she’s said is obvious.

She raises the dandelion to her lips. “Do you know that when you blow on one of these flowers, you make a secret wish?” With a single breath, she scatters the fuzzy petals all over our blanket.

I pick a dandelion of my own and blow on it. Silently, I wish for Marcella to magically disappear. I bet Calla wished for the same.

Eager to get off the subject of Marcella, Calla suggests we play hide-and-go-seek. As she animatedly explains how the game works, I unexpectedly flashback to myself at her age… hiding under my bed or in the closet from the loud, squalid men my mother would bring home. Hoping they would never find me. I tremble for a moment, but Calla doesn’t notice.

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