Maggie's Journey (McKenna's Daughters) by Lena Dooley Nelson Read Free Book Online Page B

look at whatever it was Mother bought today. She didn’t even want a birthday party, but if she mentioned that, her mother would want to know why. She wasn’t prepared to answer that question yet.
    Smoothing the last of the curls into her upswept hairdo, Maggie glanced into the mirror. The cold compresses had done their work. No one need know that she had been so upset. She straightened her shoulders and headed down to the parlor.
    Mother stood beside the piled packages and boxes on the divan of the parlor suite. “I bought so many wonderful things.” She picked up a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine, then sat on the divan. “Just look at what I found at Pinkham’s Variety Store.”
    Mother carefully untied the twine. Pulling back the edges of the brown paper, she revealed a large amount of burgundy-colored moire taffeta. “We can have Mrs. Murdock make the tablecloths for your birthday party from this. Isn’t it the most luscious color? We can put the lace ones we already have over them.”
    Maggie stared at the mass of maroon fabric. It almost made her sick to her stomach. How many times had she told her mother that she didn’t really like that shade? More times than she could remember, but Mother didn’t listen to what she said. Before, she really hadn’t noticed just how many times her mother ignored her wishes. Now the fact grated on her. Anger began to simmer deep inside.
    Maybe that was what Mother had been doing. Trying to smooth out everything that made Maggie an individual, unique. Maybe trying to erase anything that reminded her of Maggie’s real mother. A bitter taste filled her mouth. She clasped her hands together until her knuckles ached. I want to be me , not someone you’re creating. It took all her willpower to keep from shouting the words. She didn’t even want to call the woman Mother, because she really wasn’t her mother. You’ll be only Florence to me now.
    “This is such a royal color, don’t you think?” Finally, Florence turned her attention toward Maggie. “Are you all right? You’re kind of quiet.”
    “I have a bit of a headache.” Maggie’s words sounded clipped, but she didn’t care.
    She really hadn’t told a lie. The stress of the afternoon, coupled with Florence’s complete disregard for her wishes, combined behind her eyes and began a slow, steady throb. At least it wasn’t a full-blown headache.
    “I hope it’s not hurting you too much. I have so much more to show you.”
    With those words, Florence began opening each package and displaying the merchandise.
    Maggie didn’t see a single thing she liked, but she endured the woman’s raving about all the things she’d purchased.
    Maggie took the twine from the packages and folded each piece of brown paper. She needed something to keep her hands busy. She answered the questions with noncommittal sounds when needed, all the while trying to decide what bothered her the most. That she’d been lied to all her life, or that no one wanted to know what she really felt about anything. Even Daddy either spoiled her or took sides against her on occasion. But he didn’t even know her. Maybe no one wanted to really know her. No one except Mrs. Jorgensen. What would she have done without that wonderful woman?
    “I’ll take these things up to the sewing room for you.” Maggie gathered as much as she could carry and started up the stairs without glancing back.
    When Daddy arrived home, they dined together, but no one had much to say. Maggie was glad. The last thing she wanted to do today was keep up a meaningless conversation when so many more things were going on in her head and heart.
    After dinner, her father retired to his study, and Florence went upstairs, evidently to make more of her own plans for the party. The event would be more for her than for Maggie anyway. Maggie was probably wasting her time writing plans that would be ignored. But she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. She went to