Sisterchicks Go Brit! by Robin Jones Gunn Read Free Book Online Page B

been sitting beside us at the table all along while Opal was the one serving the eggs, tea, and toast. In their matching robes it was nearly impossible to tell them apart. I kept scrutinizing their hands and faces, trying to find some distinguishing mark.
    I spotted the one clue I thought I could count on. On her wedding ring finger, Opal wore a gold band with an inset iridescent stone. An opal. I had first noticed the ring when she was serving us gingersnaps at her apartment a few weeks ago.
Opal wears the opal ring
.
    “More tea?”
    Before Kellie or I could respond to Rose, Virgil made a grand entrance. And I do mean a grand-slam, crazy-as-a-Mad-Hatter entrance.
    He swung open the back door in the kitchen and entered the breakfast room with Boswald tucked under his arm. Boswald was wearing an argyle sweater with a harness-style leash over his midsection. Over Virgil’s barreled midsection he wore a matching argyle sweater covered by a striped navy blue and white apron. On his head a tall, floppy white chef’s hat skimmed the top of the doorway.
    “I’m on my way to commence with the pancakes.” Hisbooming voice seemed to fill every inch of the previously peaceful breakfast room. “Who’s coming with me, then? Opal? Miss Kellie? Elizabeth?” He gave me a bow, and his puffy white hat gave a flop as he teased me with “Your majesty.”
    “You’re early.” Rose glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s not quite—”
    “Eight,” Opal finished for her. Neither of them expressed any other surprise or disapproval over Virgil’s outfit or performance.
    I glanced at Kellie. She had covered her mouth with her hand and seemed to be trying valiantly not to laugh aloud.
    Virgil offered no explanation for his outfit or his behavior. He simply stood his ground with his gaze fixed on Opal. She was peering into her teacup.
    With a wave of her hand, Rose said, “We’ll be over—”
    “Soon,” Opal said softly.
    “Well, I should hope.” Virgil gave Kellie and me a nod, causing his Poppin’ Fresh chef’s hat to slip forward. No matter. He turned without making an adjustment, and we heard the back door close behind him.
    I could tell Kellie was having a difficult time holding in her mirth. We sat quietly, anticipating some sort of explanation.
    “Honestly, Opal, I don’t see why you encourage him so. Virgil will never amount to—”
    “He’s still Virgil,” Opal said with finality in her voice. “I wish you would—”
    “Perhaps I shall.”
    “Lovely.”
    “Indeed.”
    With sheltered glances at each other, I pursed my lips, and Kellie pressed a finger to the side of her nose. We just had witnessed the most civilized sibling argument ever. The subject of debate was obviously Virgil, and it appeared Opal had acquired a small victory.
    “Shrove Tuesday,” Rose said out of the blue.
    “Excuse me?” Kellie said.
    “Today is Shrove Tuesday, in case you were wondering why we’re going to church this morning after the race.”
    Kellie quickly put down her teacup and covered her mouth as she coughed. I expected tea to come out her nose at any minute. We definitely had walked in on the Mad Hatter’s tea party this morning.
    “You’re welcome to come with us, if you like,” Opal said.
    “Thank you, but we need to be on our way.” Then to prove my determination, I quickly munched my last bite of toast and gave Kellie a let’s-get-outta-here-before-the-White-Rabbit-shows-up look.
    She didn’t catch my message. Instead, she asked a fateful question. “What is Shrove Tuesday?”
    Rose stared at her sister as if Opal had invited sheer heathens into her home. “Shrove Tuesday is the day before Ash Wednesday, which is, of course the beginning of—”
    “The season of Lent,” Opal finished.
    “I’m familiar with Lent,” Kellie said. “The forty days before Easter. And Ash Wednesday, of course. But I’ve never heard of Shrove Tuesday.”
    Opal tilted her head to her sister and in a confiding voice