Page 34 of Monster Among the Roses (Fairy Tale Quartet 1)

“Well…” Mr. Nash murmured. “That’s…that’s lovely.”

His eyes glittered with an eagerness that made me uneasy. I suddenly wished he’d never found out about our run. I didn’t want him thinking I’d done it because of our agreement. I hadn’t even been thinking about that when I’d asked Isobel if I could run with her.

But the look on this face told me that was exactly what was on his mind.

I opened my mouth to—I don’t know—correct him, maybe. But Mrs. Pan interrupted.

“Can I interest you in some pancakes, Shaw?”

As I turned to her to politely accept, Kit chose that moment to crawl back up from under the table. Without saying a word, Mr. Nash patted him on the top of the head as if to soothe the kid, and I totally lost my train of thought, wondering why everyone allowed the boy to treat Isobel that way.

If it was the last thing I did, I was going to show Kit Pan there was no reason to fear Isobel.

chapter

ELEVEN

By the time Isobel returned to the kitchen, freshly washed with her hair down, half-covering her face, everyone had finished breakfast, and even Constance and Lewis had arrived, eaten, and left again. Kit was off in Mrs. Pan’s office—as she called it, though it looked more like a kid’s playroom to me—while Mrs. Pan herself stood at the sink with a handful of tools, ready to hand them to me when I asked for them. And me…well, I was stretched under the sink, trying to figure out what was wrong with the garbage disposal.

I had just forked up my last bite of pancake when Mrs. Pan had tried to dispose of…well, garbage, I guess, and it had made the most god-awful grinding sound before the smell of burning electrical wires and smoke filled the kitchen.

Good thing the new handyman was on hand. Swallowing the last of my breakfast, I’d gotten to work. I had a little experience with garbage disposal repair. The one at the bakery had gotten jammed plenty of times. But this seemed worse than a stuck flywheel. The reset button hadn’t done shit. Nothing seemed to be leaking and Mrs. Pan had said nothing had been draining slow. So I guessed it must be an electrical problem.

“Wha...?” I heard Isobel’s voice when she finally entered the kitchen.

I slid out from under the sink cabinet, explaining, “Garbage disposal.”

Her immediate response was, “Don’t put your hand down the drain.”

I blinked, waiting for her to tell me she was joking. When she genuinely seemed worried I might actually try such a stunt, I sighed.

Really? She thought I was that slow, huh?

“Gee, and that was the next troubleshooting step I was going to try, too.”

She had the grace to flush. “Sorry, I just—”

“No worries,” I told her. “But it might be a bit before we can get back to bookshelf planning.”

With a nod, she began to back away. “Yes, of course. I understand. Completely.”

It didn’t look as if she understood, though. I squinted at her as she retreated until she reached the opening of the kitchen.

“But what about your…” I tried to ask, except she was already gone. “Breakfast?”

“She doesn’t typically eat breakfast,” Mrs. Pan answered me.

I looked up at her, wondering if Isobel would have this morning if I hadn’t just chased her off with my garbage disposal project. She’d yet to eat lunch with the staff since I’d been here. Sure, she’d been avoiding me for the past two weeks, but still…from Kit’s reactions to her, I had a feeling she stayed away until everyone was gone before she scavenged for food.

Maybe her dad had been on to something. Aside from him and her brother, Isobel really did try to avoid people, even the rest of the staff. I don’t think I realized how much progress I’d made with her until that very moment. I suddenly wanted to climb to my feet and race after her, force her back to the kitchen to eat with other people. But Mrs. Pan needed her sink back.

“Can you trade me for a flat-head?” I asked, holding out the Phillips screwdriver I’d been using to unscrew the main component.

We made the switch and I gritted my teeth as I wedged the screwdriver crowbar-like in between the gasket ring and main part of the machine to pry it loose. All the while, I kept thinking about Isobel, and the lost, abandoned look she’d had as she’d drifted from the kitchen. I hadn’t abandoned her, though, and I couldn’t wait to get back to the library to show her that.

Problem was, fixing the stupid garbage disposal ended up taking me the rest of the day. It took me a good two hours to decide the motor was shot beyond repair and there was no fixing it. Then I had to wait to get a ride from Lewis into town and buy a new one at the supply store. Installing it took the rest of the afternoon.

By the time I blew into the library, wiping grease stains off my hands and onto my jeans, Isobel was relaxing on her sofa, reading.

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