The Locket Read Online Free
Author: K J Bell
a quaint town that lay at the intersection of Massachusetts, Vermont and New Hampshire on both sides of the Connecticut River in the Pioneer Valley. It was plush, with rolling hills and miles of dense forest making it a beautiful spot. But I wanted to explore the world on my own, outside of town.
Before my grandmother died last year, she had lived in this house as well. She and my aunt had always been together. My aunt had never married or started a life of her own. She seemed to really enjoy living with her parents and taking care of them. My grandfather had passed away about a year before my family moved. I was always curious if Maggie ever met someone who later realized she was a package deal, so things didn’t work out. It was silly for me to think about it as Maggie seemed perfectly content with her life and choices.
“You’re going to be late if you keep day dreaming,” Maggie interrupted my thoughts. She pulled a bag of potpourri from the pantry, opened it and started pouring it into a bowl. I sneezed.
“Bless you.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “Maggie, that stuff is so strong. Do you have to put it all over the house?”
My aunt displayed potpourri-filled baskets in every room and the smell was overwhelming. It was a mixture of pine cones and berries and I found it repulsive.
“I love it, Claire” she replied cheerfully.
“Can you love it in smaller doses?” I teased, kissing her on the cheek.
She laughed. “You better get going, dear.”
“All right, all right, I’m going.” Readjusting my backpack over my shoulder, I headed outside to the car.
“Have a good day,” Maggie called from the kitchen.
Once outside, I turned back to the house – my house – and smiled.
The house was a typical New England cape. It had been in our family since it was constructed during the 1700’s, with original wide pine floors throughout. The paint on the outside was faded from years of winter and was now the color of nearly-burnt toast. The windows were old and warped giving a kaleidoscope appearance when peering out. The streaking forest formed pixels of greens and browns, patterns twisting and changing shape, with each ray of sunshine through the weighted glass.
As I looked at the house, memories flashed through my mind of my childhood and how happy my family and I were then. What had caused us to move so suddenly? What kept us moving? I often felt as though I had been lied to my entire life. I wondered if Maggie knew the truth – and if she did – would she ever tell me.
Quit procrastinating and get to school. I rolled my eyes at my subconscious. We had been battling frequently since my parents passed. I found her extremely bossy and overly annoying most of the time.
CHAPTER 2
“When will I meet him?” “We meet our soul mates when we’re on our soul path.” – Karen M. Black
W hat I really wanted to do was crawl back into bed, bury myself under the covers and pretend the last few months had never happened. Instead of my parents dying, I would imagine they were alive. They would walk through the door after a wonderful evening, telling me all about how much fun it was to watch the ponies run. Mom would tell me how she won so much more money than my father – even though she placed her bets on a horse she thought had the most imaginative name. My dad would laugh and kiss her on the head expressing his love. He studied jockey and owner stats to place his bets. In the end, neither of them would ever win any big money. Their teasing would make me smile before they tucked me into bed. I would wake up to a stunning west coast sunrise; go for a walk on the beach, breathing in the sweet salty air of the Pacific. While I often tried to use this fantasy as a way to numb the pain, I was always rudely awakened and jerked back to the present.
You seriously need to get moving or you’re going to be late.
Listening to my pushy subconscious, I brought myself back to reality. I walked across the driveway
Before my grandmother died last year, she had lived in this house as well. She and my aunt had always been together. My aunt had never married or started a life of her own. She seemed to really enjoy living with her parents and taking care of them. My grandfather had passed away about a year before my family moved. I was always curious if Maggie ever met someone who later realized she was a package deal, so things didn’t work out. It was silly for me to think about it as Maggie seemed perfectly content with her life and choices.
“You’re going to be late if you keep day dreaming,” Maggie interrupted my thoughts. She pulled a bag of potpourri from the pantry, opened it and started pouring it into a bowl. I sneezed.
“Bless you.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “Maggie, that stuff is so strong. Do you have to put it all over the house?”
My aunt displayed potpourri-filled baskets in every room and the smell was overwhelming. It was a mixture of pine cones and berries and I found it repulsive.
“I love it, Claire” she replied cheerfully.
“Can you love it in smaller doses?” I teased, kissing her on the cheek.
She laughed. “You better get going, dear.”
“All right, all right, I’m going.” Readjusting my backpack over my shoulder, I headed outside to the car.
“Have a good day,” Maggie called from the kitchen.
Once outside, I turned back to the house – my house – and smiled.
The house was a typical New England cape. It had been in our family since it was constructed during the 1700’s, with original wide pine floors throughout. The paint on the outside was faded from years of winter and was now the color of nearly-burnt toast. The windows were old and warped giving a kaleidoscope appearance when peering out. The streaking forest formed pixels of greens and browns, patterns twisting and changing shape, with each ray of sunshine through the weighted glass.
As I looked at the house, memories flashed through my mind of my childhood and how happy my family and I were then. What had caused us to move so suddenly? What kept us moving? I often felt as though I had been lied to my entire life. I wondered if Maggie knew the truth – and if she did – would she ever tell me.
Quit procrastinating and get to school. I rolled my eyes at my subconscious. We had been battling frequently since my parents passed. I found her extremely bossy and overly annoying most of the time.
CHAPTER 2
“When will I meet him?” “We meet our soul mates when we’re on our soul path.” – Karen M. Black
W hat I really wanted to do was crawl back into bed, bury myself under the covers and pretend the last few months had never happened. Instead of my parents dying, I would imagine they were alive. They would walk through the door after a wonderful evening, telling me all about how much fun it was to watch the ponies run. Mom would tell me how she won so much more money than my father – even though she placed her bets on a horse she thought had the most imaginative name. My dad would laugh and kiss her on the head expressing his love. He studied jockey and owner stats to place his bets. In the end, neither of them would ever win any big money. Their teasing would make me smile before they tucked me into bed. I would wake up to a stunning west coast sunrise; go for a walk on the beach, breathing in the sweet salty air of the Pacific. While I often tried to use this fantasy as a way to numb the pain, I was always rudely awakened and jerked back to the present.
You seriously need to get moving or you’re going to be late.
Listening to my pushy subconscious, I brought myself back to reality. I walked across the driveway
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