Savage Cinderella

Chapter 12- A Brand New Brinn

Chapter 12

A Brand New Brinn

The rambling farmhouse needed paint but it held an air of hominess that made Brinn feel welcomed. She’d only been inside a few times, and always when Mr. and Mrs. McMurray were out, but she basked in the smell of baked bread that permeated the kitchen as if it were part of the flowered wallpaper. The décor was simple, the furniture slightly dulled by years of use, but beautiful all the same. 

The family pictures that lined the stairway showed generations of McMurrays and Frasers with features that closely matched Abby in both coloring and bone structure. Brinn stared in awe, taking the stairs one at a time and pausing to study the portraits.

“That’s my great grandma. I was named after her.” Abby gestured to an aged photo of a young woman on horseback wearing a long skirt and high-necked blouse.

Hung in neat rows and columns, the pictures were evidence of a history that seemed unfathomable. What must it be like to be a part of a family, to know all your relatives, and to experience the connection of blood that flows through the roots of an extensive family tree? She remembered having grandparents when she was very small—her mother’s parents at least. They lived far away in another country. She’d only met them a few times and they spoke a strange language she hadn’t understood. She couldn’t remember her father’s parents at all. The only family she ever really knew was her mother and father. And they were dead. 

“Where are your parents?” Brinn asked, pushing away the memories.

“Since I started school, Mom and Dad have taken up golf. I don’t see the fun in chasing a little ball and trying to whack it into a hole, but they’re obsessed,” she giggled, leading Brinn down a hallway and into the bathroom that adjoined a spacious bedroom, decorated in pinks and creamy chiffon. “With my parents gone, we’ll have free rein to play with your hair, makeup, and wardrobe.” Abby looked expectantly at Brinn. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.” 

Phillip hadn’t objected, but didn't look at all pleased to leave the girls alone for the rest of the day. He agreed to pick them up at 6:30 that evening to take them for a night out on the town.

Brinn sank into a large claw-foot tub up to her ears in hot, soapy, water. It felt wonderful—nothing like the icy streams where she normally bathed. Abby sat on a low stool next to the tub, painstakingly combing knots and burrs out of Brinn’s hair with short, harsh jerks. 

"Ouch!" Brinn repeated for the thousandth time.

"Don't squirm! It wouldn't get so awful if you would learn to use the hairbrush I gave you."

Brinn scowled at her friend, wincing as another snarl broke free. "I use it for scrubbing dirt off of roots and scales off of fish. I thought it best not to use it on my hair."

Abby grinned. "Well, I see your point." Continuing her task with a bit more mercy—finally conceding to cutting a few particularly stubborn tangles out with scissors—she peered over Brinn's shoulder. "Do you think Phillip is handsome? I mean, do you like the way he looks?"

Brinn thought for a moment as she blew bubbles out of her hand. "I guess so. I can see you like him very much." She smiled at her friend, whose eyes lit and voice softened when she spoke his name.

"Oh, I’m soooo in love with him. That’s why I'm going to marry him. He’s totally cute and he’s a hard worker. He's going to be rich and successful. I think he’ll make a good husband and father, too. He wants tons of kids. So do I." Abby gushed on about her plans with Phillip, stopping only when Brinn's silence and withdrawal became apparent.