Dreamer

The Price of a Promise

Anne

To her surprise, the Stewarts weren't at all upset by the destruction of the tablet. Matt smiled a gentle smile and patted Anne on the shoulder.

"These things happen," he whispered- Matt always whispered. Anne had never met a more gentle, kinder soul than Matt. "We'll get you a new one tomorrow."

She wondered if he might be so kind if she told him how she managed to break the tablet. She'd left the details vague in hopes they wouldn't press for more information, and so far they were content with her explanation.

Well, for the most part. Mary...Well, Anne didn't need much imagination to know Mary wouldn't be half as understanding as her older brother. Stern and imposing where Matt was soft spoken and meek, Mary was the real head of the family. Anne hadn't been around long, but she listened more than most people gave her credit for. They saw a girl who daydreamed and so they assumed she was absent minded.

She knew neither of the siblings had ever been married. At least, not to a person. If you asked Mary, she'd tell you she was married to her job, but Anne didn't miss sadness in her eyes. It was the look of someone who'd had a great romance that failed, and she wondered if Mary was so dedicated to her job because of it or if that was what caused the failure to begin with. As for Matt- well, she thought he was far too shy. If he'd ever spoken to another girl besides herself and Mary, she would be surprised. He definitely didn't have the capacity to be intimate with one.

"I'll swing by the store and get it on my way home, Anne," Mary said just before she slid a bite of fluffy, mashed potatoes between her bare lips. She swallowed, then patted her mouth. "But I'll expect you to keep a case on it."

"But a case will ruin its lines," Anne protested. She thought of the pretty, rose colored trim of her last one. To hide it would be a terrible thing.

"So will dropping it," Mary replied.

"Okay."

It wasn't worth pushing the matter. The less time spent on the subject the less chance Anne would end up being forced to come clean. Besides, Mary would never understand Anne's obsession with pretty things. The woman was all efficiency and no nonsense, right down to the severe style of her hair. She wore it in a bun so tight that it pulled her skin back, and Anne couldn't tell if her smooth skin was a result of the hairdo or excellent genetics.

And of course, she didn't wear a scrap of makeup. No mascara, lipstick, or blush. There had been little Mary had denied Anne when they went shopping for her room and school, but she'd drawn the line at what she called fripperies.

"Well, other than breaking your tablet, how was your first day of school?" Matt asked.

"Oh, it was fine. Most of the teachers are dull. They've no imagination-"

Metal clanked against porcelain as Mary dropped her fork. "What in heavens is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, for instance, I told Mrs. Jacoby that her reading of To Kill a Mockingbird would be greatly improved if she would use different voices and act it out in front of the class. She told me it would be greatly improved by my silence."

Anne seethed as she remembered her English teacher's ready dismissal of her proposal. Couldn't the woman see that half of her students were falling asleep as she droned on? Really, it would've been better to let the students read. The woman wasn't made for oral presentations- not with a voice that sounded like a disturbed beehive. If bees had sinus problems.

"I see." Mary said, amusement coloring her voice, but she didn't laugh.

And for that Anne was grateful. She'd confessed on her first day at Gable House (that's what the Stewart's called their Estate) that she loathed being laughed at when she was speaking about something with utter seriousness. Oh, she might not care if someone laughed at her- it happened quite often, but she couldn't stand to have her ideas and thoughts laughed at. It always felt as if someone was mocking her soul. Her very essence.