Midnight Sisters: Meet the Ladies II

No matter how long the book may be, there is always more story to tell. Midnight Sisters is no different. 

We've already read about Ari, Bree, and Cinnamon and the romance, sorrow, and high jinks of their past, today Lady Daniela and the twins, Estella and Frizella, take the stage. Whenever the twins are on the scene, mischief is sure to follow, but studious, mild-mannered Daniela may surprise you as well. 

* * *

Lady Daniela

“The recipe says to add more.”

Janela turned wide eyes on me.

“Don’t worry. It will be fine,” I reassured her.

With one dimpled hand, she dropped another handful of powder into the can.

“Now mix until well combined,” I directed.

Janela inserted the long-handled spoon into the can and began to stir. The ingredients clanked disconcertingly against the sides. Janela stopped and peered into the can. Her eyebrows scrunched together. “Mo’ wata?”

I peered into the can. “You’re right, it does need more water.” I dumped a cupful of water into the can.

Janela continued to stir, stopping only occasionally to make sure the mixture was coming together. “Weaves?” she asked.

“Yes, I’ve prepared the leaves,” I said, motioning to the herbs I’ll filched from the kitchen gardens. “Let’s place it in the pan first.”

Janela nodded. She pulled out the tin pan Cook had given us and proceeded to dump the batter into it. The mixture glooped and clunked into the pan. Janela’s nose crinkled up. “Gwoss.”

“It just needs to be smoothed out.” I applied the long-handled spoon to the mixture and worked away at it until no lumps remained. “Better?”

“Yeth,” Janela lisped. At four-years-old, she still hadn’t mastered s. “Weaves now?”

I passed her the leaves. Together we placed them atop the batter in a pleasing pattern. “Now it looks like a proper pie.”

“Bake it?” Janela asked.

I consulted the directions scrawled on the page. “It says, ‘leave in the sun for four days or until firm.’”

Janela nodded again. “Tathte it?”

I shook my head, my own nose crinkling up. “We don’t eat mud pies, Jani, no matter now pretty they are.”

A mischievous look crossed her round face. “The girls?”

“The triplets?” I thought of the tiny menaces in their matching outfits. From the whining, crying, and screaming issued from nearby, someone was pulling someone’s hair and someone else needed a diaper change.

I grinned back at Jani. “I think they’d love a taste.”

Jani’s burbling giggle filled the air, so infectious I had to join in.

* * *

Lady Estella

We bent our heads together. “There has to be one someplace,” I whispered. “This place is too big.” We had been in the manor for one month. One whole month and we still couldn’t find any secret passageways.

“It’s like a fairy tale, Essie.” She patted a well-worn book fondly, her eyes twinkling at me. “Or a mystery.”

“And we love mysteries.” We said together, sharing identical grins.

“If only we had a fairy godmother . . .” I mused.

Fritz spread the handmade map between us. “We’ve looked here.” She pointed at the attic.

“And there.” I motioned toward the servants’ staircase.

“And in the ballroom.”

“Remember how we almost got caught?” Her shoulders shook with silent giggles, just as they had when we ducked behind the curtains before Father strode by.

I clapped a hand over my mouth to muffle my own laughter. 

Fritz’s grin faded as she turned back to the map. “Hmmm . . . maybe in the kitchens?”

“Then we’d have to talk to Cook,” I replied. “She’s no fairy godmother.”

“And we probably couldn’t talk her out of a treat.” She propped her chin on her fist. “It’s not fair. She makes the best cookies.”

“Mmmm . . .” we said in unison. “Cookies.”

I grinned. “The pantry would be the perfect spot for a secret passageway!”

Essie’s eyes grew wide. “Or a cookie jar!”

“Let’s do it!” I rolled up the map and hurried after my sister. Hand in hand, we tiptoed down the servants’ stairs and toward the kitchen. We paused outside to listen and peep in the door. Kitchen girls and servants scuttled in all directions. We waited until they were all distracted. At the same moment, we looked at one another and mouthed, “Now!” Together we crept into the kitchens.

* * *

Lady Frizella

Minutes later we rushed outdoors, our hands full of cookies and our bellies full of laughter. We ran over the grounds and climbed up our favorite tree, the one directly in front of our rooms. We stuffed our mouths with Cook’s delicious cookies and laughed in triumph.

“Cook must have magical powers,” Essie said, licking the crumbs off of her fingertips.

“Maybe. But it’s not enough to keep her treats safe from us,” I replied, stuffing the last cookie in my mouth.

Essie took the map from me, shook off the crumbs, and spread it across her lap. “It just doesn’t make sense. We’ve looked everywhere.”

I looked over at the bank of windows before us, trying to piece the puzzle together. Then I squinted at the map. “Wait a minute . . . does that look wrong to you?”

Essie huffed. “Fritz, you know the map’s not to scale. Father wouldn’t allow us to use his tools. ‘What use would nine-year-olds have with cartography instruments?’”

“It isn’t that,” I hurried to explain. “Look at the outside wall. Doesn’t it seem too . . . wide?”

She followed my gaze. “I never noticed that before. Let’s go investigate!”

We scrambled down the tree and flew over the lawns. The unrolled map flapped behind us. A quick trip up the stairs brought us to our rooms. Luckily all our sisters and maidservants were out.

The air whooshed out of me when I faced the wall. It looked the same as all the rest. “I guess I was wrong, Es.”

“Just a minute.” Essie ran her hands over the wall, then began tapping. She turned wide eyes to me when the sound changed.

“It’s hollow!” we crowed.

I joined my sister, tapping until I found something else. “Essie, it’s colder!” She placed her hand where mine had been, on the place where the outside wall joined the back wall and moved her palms up and down slowly. After a moment, a gentle click sounded. Part of the wall moved, opening outward onto a dim chamber.

Our eyes met. Together we whispered, “The secret passageway!” 

Maybe we had a fairy godmother after all.

* * *

Revisit Lord Bromhurst's eldest daughters in Midnight Sisters: Meet the Ladies I. Also, read about all the rest of the sisters in Midnight Sisters: Meet the Ladies III and Meet the Ladies IV. And as always, you can claim your own copy of Midnight Sisters on Amazon or you can contact me for a signed copy.

Thanks for reading! More sister adventures are on the way!

A Call to Arms. A Call to Love.

I believe in the power of good women united by common goals. 

I also believe in the power of kindness and love to reach those goals. Recently, Open Thought Vortex Magazine invited me to share my thoughts on feminism during Women's Empowerment Month. I was pleased to share the following:

* * *

Feminism gets a bad rap. The term has been twisted to convey something far different than its original definition:

1.  the theory of political, economic, & social equality of the sexes

2.  organized activity on behalf of women's rights & interests

Basic. Elegant. Yet somehow feminism has become associated with radical behavior, extremely liberal opinions, and pointing the finger of blame at men, politicians, society, etc.

I’m a 40-year-old woman from rural Utah who teaches kindergarten and writes Young Adult novels. I refuse to support action that harms, demeans, or degrades others whose sex, age, political views, or religion differ from mine. And since today’s predominant strategy for promoting women’s rights is shouting your grievances at the top of your lungs, I tend to distance myself from it. The kindergarten teacher in me can’t see the difference between that strategy and the kid who declares himself (or herself) King of the Jungle Gym and enforces his (or her) claim through a series of playground scuffles.

I’ve seen my fair share of intolerance. I live in a particularly diverse area in Northern Utah where there is often tension resulting from differing political standpoints, religious beliefs, and even warring gangs. Local Pastor Monica Hall stated, “[There is] a natural tendency to draw distinctions and define each other. Definitions such as: she is Muslim, he is black, she is Presbyterian, he is Latino, they are Mormon, etc. . . . Such definitions can draw boundaries of who WE are and who THEY are. These boundaries can be dangerous. They can be dangerous when we use the boundary of division to ignore human needs.”

That’s my main issue with feminism. When we paint ourselves as victims and everyone else as aggressors, there’s no one left to explore solutions to the common problems we face.

Actress Emma Watson had plenty to say on the subject. “If we stop defining each other by what we are not and start defining ourselves by who we are, we can be much freer.”

In my classroom alone, I encounter bias, misconceptions, and intolerance. Kids already have a lot of baggage by the time they step into my room.  I do my best to employ a practice that reaches hearts, souls, and minds. It’s called Love. Love and Listen.

If all we do is scream about the world’s injustices, nothing will ever change. But if we take on our noble role as women who lead, nurture, teach, inspire, and uplift, we can effect change.

Author Norah Ephron summed it up beautifully. “Above all, be the heroine of your own life.”

That’s what I want. That’s MY prime goal as a feminist, to be the best me I can be and to bring as many women, girls, mothers, and sisters along with me as possible.

Author Francesca Lia Block said, “Just like any woman . . . we weave our stories out of our bodies, some of us through our children, or our art; some do it just by living. It’s all the same.”

I effect change in my classroom and in my novels, with my students, friends, and family. I stand up for what I believe and I refuse to hide who I am. I am a woman and I am powerful. And I believe in the power of love and kindness.

* * *

Thanks for dropping by, my dears! If you'd like to read more women's empowerment, revisit The Making of a Woman or pop over to OTV Magazine and peruse the March 2017 posts. And please leave me your thoughts on womanhood and feminism in a comment below. Go forth and be awesome, my friends!