PublicBookshelf Book Club
Weekly tips on great novels to read.
The facade of normalcy Charity and Ross had constructed hadn't withstood the onslaught of her sister and her friends. The place was unrecognizable. All the beautiful furniture had been shoved to the side of the room, except for the coffee table, which now stood dead center. On top of the finely rubbed finish stood a tabletop electric hibachi, fake coals glowing. Rough sticks were stuck in all around, brown things skewered to the tips.
It looked like dinner, but one might not want to get more specific. Charity knew her sister wouldn't eat red meat, but she wouldn't put insects past her.
Pillows had been pulled off the couches and placed about the coffee table on the floor. Faith sat on one, her blond hair billowing about her ethereally, her blue dress, made of something light as a spider's web, falling about her in haphazard folds.
On one side of her sat a short, intense-looking young man, on the other, a tiny young woman with gorgeous blue eyes and chopped-off black hair.
"Faith," Charity said ominously, totally unable to muster a smile of greeting. "How did you get in here?"
Her sister looked up dreamily. "I still have my key from my last visit." She held it up with a triumphant smile. "See?"
Ross came up from behind, taking Charity's arm as though to hold her steady.
"Remind me to have the locks changed immediately," she said to him through gritted teeth.