A Book Excerpt From Sally

The enticing novel gripped Sally so much that she nearly lost her balance a few times on the willow tree’s branch. The Vampyre, A Tale drew her in from the first paragraph. She gently caressed each page with her finger tip, willing to be a part of the story. The sound of rapid footsteps drew her away from the book. With a sigh, she jumped down from her perch. Mama, dressed in all black, was a strange sight to see as she walked down the road toward the house. She rarely travelled alone. Something was wrong. Dark clouds rolled in behind her, causing Sally to quiver. Storms made her think of tornadoes and forced marriages.

She hiked up her skirts and rushed over to greet her mother.

“Hello, Mama!” she called.

Her cheerful tone betrayed the Gothic atmosphere.

“Hello, Sally,” said Mama coolly. “I brought you something.”

Sally took the basket of fruit from her mother’s hands. Though the overall mood of the occasion felt dreary, it felt so good to see her.

“It feels like I haven’t seen you in months.”

Mama gave her a no-nonsense look.

“Don’t be so dramatic. I see you every Sunday.”

Her porcelain complexion appeared white as bone against her high ebony collar. She appeared fashionable as always, albeit a bit grim. She was beautiful, trying to subdue it at times. Sally wished that she inherited more of her features besides the green eyes; she wouldn’t have hidden any of them. They walked in stride back to the house. Sally prepared a tray of cheese and crackers while the water boiled on the stove for tea. Mama sat down and looked around the kitchen, fixing her gaze on one of Sally’s paintings of the clouds.

“How quaint,” said Mama with a hint of a smile. “You have certainly made this your home.”

The compliment made Sally feel happy. She tried her best to keep the place looking presentable as well as clean. She couldn’t help but imagine what her own place in Cambridge might have looked like after she graduated from college. She would have the most modern décor and colours displayed in a tasteful way. The mere thought of it made her sigh.

“It isn’t exactly how I’d like, but it’ll do.”

“Well, you should be proud,” said Mama.

Once they sat down with their refreshments, Sally felt a little homesick. She was still just a girl playing house and she missed living at home.

“Where is your husband?” asked Mama.

“He will be in one of the barns.”

Mama eyed her.

“When was the last time you had a conversation with him?”

Sally nearly choked on her tea. The idea.

“At meal time we exchange pleasantries and then we go our separate ways. It is the perfect arrangement as far as I am concerned.”

Mama gaped at her as she set down her teacup. Sally nearly laughed at her dramatic expression since she was normally so composed.

“What did you expect me to say?” asked Sally with a shrug.

“I assumed that you two would have progressed once the year was through.”

“Progressed?”

Mama frowned.

“You are not taking this seriously.”

“Why should I take this ridiculous marriage seriously?”

Mama raised her chin.

“Now, Sally. That sort of attitude is exactly what I am worried about. It is not becoming for a woman to act like a child.”

Sally had to swallow back the rage that threatened to spew out of her mouth. She was doing the best that she could, but it did not change the fact that she was a prisoner. She couldn’t simply sweep all her aspirations under a rug like everyone else in White Oaks.

“I shouldn’t be living in this house. I should be in Cambridge attending lectures during the day and then going to the theatre at night!”

Mama averted her gaze.

“We miss you back home, of course, but we want you to have your own life.”

Sally was not surprised that she ignored her reference to Cambridge, but she was not going to drop the topic just yet.

“I hardly call this having my own life.”

Mama stared at her.

“Like or not, this is your life, Sally. People are watching you. There has been talk that you and Jeremiah are not close.”

A warm flush kissed Sally’s cheeks as she cringed.

“Why are people talking about that?”

“People always talk. If you don’t want to be talked about then you can’t be an easy target.”

“And what did they say?” asked Sally.

“I heard some of the ladies gossiping about you being cold with Jeremiah after church last week. They try not to speak of you at the sewing circle since I am there. They do have a point. I don’t recall you mentioning a new baby yet.”

Sally’s mouth dropped open with a protest on the tip of her tongue. Mama gave her a warning look.

“Your reputation reflects mine and your Papa’s. I know you are still young, but if this goes on for another year, people might assume the worst about you.”

She rested her elbows on the table and stared back at her mother.

“Which is what?”

“They will think you are a Jezebel.”

One of the Bible’s most interesting and infamous women. Being compared to Jezebel was not a compliment. Her end was not so pleasant, either.

“Do not pretend that you have no idea what this really is,” said Sally. “This is a forced marriage.”

Mama blinked twice. She often did that when she was angry rather than raise her voice.

“Nobody forced you to do anything. You obeyed your Papa’s wishes as you are supposed to.”

“I remember it all quite differently.”

Mama closed her eyes. She was starting to give in.

“You are not happy. I can see that.”

“The life of a married woman is empty and boring.”

“Then you need to change that. Fast.”

Sally drew back.

“Me?”

Mama clasped her hands together with a slight grin. She was going in for the kill and she was enjoying it.

“You are the home maker. It is your role to make sure that it is a happy place for both of you.”

Sally looked around the neat and tidy kitchen feeling emptier than she normally did. She was just a pawn that other people moved around when she was getting in the way. She was so tired of being treated like an imbecile.

“I hoped that we would have a real visit,” she sighed in defeat.

Mama sniffed in her bleached white hanky, glancing over at the grandfather clock.

“I hope you both enjoy the apples that I brought. You might want to make a pie for a special occasion … if you know what I mean. Men like it when you spoil them once in a while.”

Sally rolled her eyes. Her mother could be a conniving creature when she wanted to be.

Mama stepped out of the house, down the stone path, and back to the road. She looked like a royal who somehow became lost in the back country.

Shaking her head, Sally carried the basket of fruit over to the pasture. Seeing her approach, the horses trotted over to the fence. She tossed all the apples over the fence and watched them indulge.

“Apple pie indeed,” she huffed.

*****

“I try to reach the clouds

They try to shoot me down”

Would you like to read the whole story? You can purchase Sally in e-book and in print on Amazon. ❤

This book is also a part of a series. It’s the most Gothic one of my Westerns.