The Bitches of Everafter: A fairy tale (The Everafter Trilogy Book 1)

by Barbra Annino

  13

  Sugar and Spice Isn't Always So Nice

  It was Saturday, and for as long as she could remember, Snow liked to do chores on Saturdays. She liked to clean, cook, bake, garden and do home repairs. She was in her room, making her bed and wondering what the consequences would be if she did just that. What if she cleaned up this place all by herself and none of the other women would have to lift a finger? Surely they wouldn’t be cross with her if she took on the burden alone.

  Right?

  Anyway, how else was she supposed to occupy her time? She had nowhere else to be today and she knew she’d just go stir crazy sitting here twiddling her thumbs. Maybe she should speak to Granny. Certainly if Granny tasked her with something, the others couldn’t be mad at Snow. And after she did begin her community service there wouldn’t be enough time for chores. If she could at least give the house a proper scrub down today while she had the chance, then maybe it wouldn’t sadden her so much to witness the state of it.

  She decided, after fluffing up her pillow and crisping her sheets, that she would take the gamble. Besides, she was incredibly curious about the bathroom incident. What if the linen cabinet, which seemed to appear out of nowhere, was in fact a gesture from the house itself? What if it were rewarding her somehow for caring for it? Of course deep down Snow knew there was no such thing as magic. Still, she was curious about what other secrets lay hidden inside these walls.

  Snow bumped into Cindy carrying a box full of shoes on her way out of her room.

  “Watch it, Princess,” Cindy said. There was a cigarette dangling from her mouth and it bobbed up and down as she spoke. “These babies are worth more than this whole freaking place.”

  “Sorry,” said Snow. “Do you need help?”

  Cindy hesitated, then shrugged. “Sure, get the door.”

  Snow stepped around Cindy and hurried down the stairs. She opened the door just as Hansel was about to knock. They both jumped.

  “Hey,” said Hansel, “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “That’s all right,” said Snow.

  “I just wanted to tell Granny I was finished with the gutters. I think she may have had something else for me, so I wanted to check with her.”

  “Oh, certainly, come in,” said Snow.

  Hansel stepped through the threshold.

  Cindy reached the foyer then, struggling to maintain control of both the box and her cigarette. “Hey, Hammerhead, can you get the fuck out of the way, please?”

  Hansel didn’t flinch at the insult. Instead he rushed to relieve the box from Cindy’s arms. “Let me help you there.”

  Cindy relinquished the box to Hansel. She blew out a ring of smoke over his head and walked her eyes up and down his body, landing on his chiseled chest. “You know, Handy Andy, if that belt was filled with credit cards instead of rusty metal, I’d be bent over you like a gymnast on a balance beam.”

  Snow nearly choked. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  Hansel’s face flushed.

  Cindy curved her neck, sliding her eyes to Snow. “You’re adorable, aren’t you?”

  Snow averted her eyes. “I don’t mean to be.”

  “Well, Princess,” Cindy took a last puff and tossed the cigarette butt out the open door, “A couple of weeks with us and you won’t be anymore.” She tapped Snow’s cheek.

  Hansel grimaced. He flashed Snow an apologetic smile, which only embarrassed her further.

  “Come on, Carrot-top. Those shoes aren’t going to put themselves in the car. The faster I get rid of these, the faster I can torture that son of a bitch I had the misfortune of marrying by ransacking what used to be my store.”

  Hansel stepped out into the sunlight and Cindy followed.

  Snow wondered who’d really drawn the short straw in that marriage. She also wondered if these foul-mouthed women were ever going to stop picking on her.

  Emboldened by the pity she saw on Hansel’s face, Snow called out, “It’s Snow.”

  Cindy was halfway down the steps by then. She turned, shielding her eyes from the sun. “What?”

  Snow faltered for just a moment like a sapling in the wind, then found a spark of courage. “My name. It isn’t Princess. It’s Snow. Snow White.”

  It took every ounce of strength she had to steady her nerves. On the inside, she was trembling, but she kept her tone even, her eyes trained on Cindy, and her jawline stern.

  Cindy stared at her for the longest time, her face unreadable. Then she smiled. “Whatever you say.” She turned and glided down the steps.

  Snow smiled, feeling as if she had just gained a smidgen of respect. She was proud of herself for throwing caution to the wind and speaking her mind.

  Then Cindy added, “Princess.”

  She cackled and slapped Hansel on the behind, nearly causing him to drop the box of shoes. Hansel stuck the box in the back seat of Cindy’s car and shut the door. Cindy, apparently recovered from her brown-bottle flu, climbed into the driver’s seat and drove away in a vehicle that cost more than Snow’s cottage, waving out the window as she passed. She blew a kiss.

  Even though she didn’t say it aloud, Snow thought, what a bitch.

  She sighed, keeping the door open for Hansel as he jogged back up the steps. Hansel set those impossibly golden eyes on her and said, “Don’t let Cindy get to you, Snow. She’s got a lot of issues to deal with right now. She’s really not that bad.”

  Snow raised her eyebrows at him. “Is that so? Because she acts like she was raised by spider monkeys trapped in a liquor distillery.”

  Hansel cracked a smile. “She used to be pretty cool, actually.”

  “And how would you know that?” Snow asked.

  Hansel stepped through the foyer and approached the staircase. “She used to be friends with my twin sister, Gretel.”

  So that was why Hansel was so patient with these women. He had a sister. A twin, no less.

  Snow fell in step beside him.

  “What do you mean ‘used to be?’”

  A frown wove across the handyman’s face as if he regretted those last words. As if he had spilled a secret. “They don’t talk as much anymore, that’s all.”

  Something about the way he didn’t make eye contact as he said that told Snow that there was far more to the story than that. So what was it? What had happened between Cindy and Gretel?

  Or maybe it was just the fact that Cindy had the personality of a wild boar.

  “She treats you horribly. You know that, right?” Snow asked.

  They were climbing the steps that led to the upstairs rooms.

  “She treats me like a big sister treats a little brother.” Hansel frowned. “Well except for that last bit. Not sure what that was about. I think that might have been for your benefit.”

  “My benefit? Why?”

  “I don’t know. Marking her territory or something. She feels protective of me, I guess.”

  “But what does that have to do with me? I’m no threat to anyone.” Not anymore anyway. “Certainly not to you.”

  They had climbed to the top of the stairs and were standing on the landing. Hansel reached for her. His hand dwarfed hers, engulfing it in his warmth, his strength. He turned to face Snow, his full lips inches from her ruby mouth. Her pulse quickened and her heart began beating so loudly that she was certain the whole house would hear it.

  When he spoke, his words flowed over her like a sultry spring shower. “Oh, you’re a threat, all right, Snow White. The kind of woman who inspires a man to slay a dragon, relinquish his throne, even fall on his own sword for just one kiss.”

  Hansel leaned in closer and Snow saw something glimmer in his eyes. An image formed. A scene, actually, of a castle poking through the sky and a man on a white horse, charging up a mountain. She blinked, and it was gone.

  Hansel stepped back, breaking the spell. “Of course fraternizing with the tenants is against Granny’s rules, so I wouldn’t dream of such a brazen act of disobedience.”
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br />   Snow felt her heart sink into her gut.

  Hansel’s eyes were glued to her as he said loudly, “How are you this fine afternoon, Granny?”

  Snow was confused for a moment until she heard, “I don’t pay you to flap your gums in the wind, boy. And you know the rules.”

  Hansel turned. “Aye. I knew you were there. Just having a lark.”

  Granny grunted. “Well, you just keep your pea shooter in your trousers and leave my girls alone. They’ve got enough bees in their baskets without your stinger flapping about their ears.”

  Snow thought it might be a benefit to everyone who entered the house if Granny came equipped with a dictionary.

  Hansel walked over to Granny and kissed her cheek. “Now you know I only have eyes for you, Granny.”

  The old woman shoved him. “Stop that tomfoolery now, I got work for ya to do.” A hint of a smile traced her lips, before they set back to that perpetual frown. She waved a piece of paper at the handyman.

  Hansel grabbed it and said, “I’ll get right to it.”

  As he passed Snow to head back downstairs, he winked and her stomach did a somersault.

  Her eyes met Granny’s and she thought she saw a flicker of fear pass through them. The old woman didn’t speak for a moment.

  “Granny? Are you all right?”

  Granny stepped forward and said, “You just remember why you’re here, girl. Remember.” She grabbed Snow’s wrist and looked into her eyes.

  Something about the way the old woman delivered that last word sent a chill down Snow’s spine. She nodded, not daring to speak, not knowing what Granny meant by that, and too frightened to ask.

  “Hmm,” Granny said.

  Snow watched as Granny eased her way down the steps, her cane in one hand, a beaded purse in the other. She didn’t turn her head as she opened the front door. “I’ll be back soon. No shenanigans.”

  As the door whisked shut behind her guardian, Snow thought she heard a sigh.

  Then she heard a blood-curdling scream.

  14

  Sometimes You Have To Kick a Frog

  The shrieking was coming from down the hall, past the bathroom and to the left. Snow ran as fast as she could, stopping short when she saw a puff of purple smoke coming from an open doorway. She looked in to see Aura tap-dancing on her bed barefoot as if she had stepped in something vile. She was brandishing a broom and screaming her head off.

  “What? What is it?” Snow looked left and right, but didn’t see anything.

  Aura pointed downward and said, “Kill it! Kill it!”

  She tossed Snow the broom. Snow caught it and traced Aura’s pointing finger to the closet where a large green frog with a swollen red nose sat staring up at her.

  Snow could not believe that a woman who projected the persona of a gangster was afraid of an innocent green frog.

  “I’m not going to kill it, Aura. It’s a harmless little amphibian.”

  Aura was shaking. “It’s not harmless. It tried to attack me!” She kept lifting her feet like she was trying to climb higher, except there was nowhere left to go.

  Snow looked at the frog. “Is that true?”

  The frog looked at Snow and blinked. Once.

  “He seems to be denying the accusation.”

  Aura glared at Snow. “Very funny. Now kill that thing before I sick Beast on it.”

  Snow frowned at the frog. The frog croaked.

  “Why is his nose red?”

  “Because I kicked him. Then I hit him with the broom.”

  Snow was surprised Aura knew what a broom was, let alone where to find one in this house.

  “Well that wasn’t very nice.”

  She placed the broom outside the door and went to address the frog.

  “You poor thing. I’m sorry she hit you.” Snow bent down and opened her hand. The frog hopped onto it, its legs dangling over the side.

  “Fine—you don’t have to kill it, but get it the hell out of here,” Aura said.

  “Are you sure? He seems to like you. Maybe you could use a pet.”

  The frog swung its head toward Aura, excited by the suggestion.

  “No. I do not need a pet. Especially one that ugly and slimy.”

  The frog let out a whimper.

  Snow said, “I think you hurt his feelings.” She petted the frog gingerly and eased closer to the bed. “Look, he won’t bite you.” She extended her arm.

  Aura screamed again and practically leapt out the window.

  “Okay, easy, Aura. Calm down.”

  Aura’s voice trembled. “Get it out of here.”

  Snow almost turned around, but she stopped, an idea forming. “And what do I get in return?”

  Aura glared at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Snow felt herself grow a bit taller. “I mean if I do this you owe me a favor.”

  Aura narrowed her green eyes. “You’re bribing me, Princess? That’s a big freaking mistake.”

  Snow walked over to the bed and said, “Fine.” She bent to release the frog and Aura screeched, “All right, all right! What do you want?”

  Snow thought about it. What she really wanted was to learn more about this house, its contents, and the strange things she felt inside of it. There was, she suspected, only one way to do that and she was certain that Aura held the key. Literally.

  “I want you to help me clean.”

  Aura parked her hands on her hips. “Forget it.” She stuck her chin out defiantly.

  Snow shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  She set the frog on the bed and it hopped over to Aura, looking up at her with admiration.

  Aura shrieked again and jumped off the bed. “Fine, fine, I’ll do it. Just...” she shot a nervous glace back to the frog. “…tell me why.”

  Snow released the frog near the pond out back and rushed back upstairs to explain to Aura what she had experienced in the bathroom the day before as well as what she hoped to gain from taking care of the house. Aura stared at her as if she had grown a third limb.

  “You’re out of your goddamn mind, you know that?”

  Snow sighed. Maybe this was a mistake, but she had come this far. There was no turning back now. “If I am, then what’s the harm?”

  “The harm is that you’ll get yourself locked up in a looney bin and me in an adjoining cell.”

  “No one has to know. We don’t have to tell the others. And Granny doesn’t seem to notice or care one way or the other what we do with the house.”

  Aura looked skeptical.

  Snow rushed to add, “If Granny does start to enforce chores, I’ll do them. All of them.”

  Aura ran her hands through her hair, not entirely convinced that this was a good idea.

  Snow decided to appeal to Aura’s core values. She had heard once that there was honor among thieves. “You promised. A deal is a deal, right?”

  Aura rolled her eyes and blew out a sigh. “Fine.” She looked at the wall space where Snow had discovered the linens. It was flat now, the stencils intact. “Where do you want to start?”

  “The locked rooms. Do you think you can break into them?”

  A sly smile spread across Aura’s young face. “Honey, give me a bobby pin and I can break into a bank vault.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  Aura explained that Granny liked to go to the swap meets on Saturdays and that she shouldn’t be back for hours. “But if Bella catches us, this was your idea. I don’t need to get on her bad side. That bitch is crazy.”

  Snow thought they were all a bit nutty, but she agreed.

  It took some doing, but an hour later, they had completely gone through the first forbidden room.

  Aura didn’t stop complaining the entire time. She whined about the smell of moth balls and rotten wood, she batted away at least six spiders and attempted to squash a mouse with her foot before Snow intervened. She coughed dramatically at the dust, griped that the room was too dark, took several bathroom breaks, and arg
ued that Snow was slacking while she was working her fingers off taking notes.

  The last complaint really got to Snow as she was hauling out an enormous spinning wheel.

  “Fine. The next room, you can do all the heavy lifting and cleaning while I take inventory,” Snow said as she dragged the wheel out of the closet.

  Aura didn’t say anything. She just stood there blinking.

  Well, that shut her up, thought Snow. Except when she glanced at Aura again, she didn’t see defeat or even anger on her face. She saw...wonderment.

  Aura set the pen and notebook down and approached the spinning wheel, cautiously. Her stare was intense, her brow wrinkled.

  “What is it?” asked Snow.

  Aura didn’t answer. She raised her hand toward the wheel. The closer she got to it the more bewildered she seemed. She lifted one finger ever so slightly and stretched it towards the wooden wheel. Then up towards the tip of the shiny spindle.

  Suddenly, she snapped her hand back as if she had been burned. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  “But you promised.”

  Aura shook her head, “No, I promised to open the doors. I’ll give you the keys. I made a copy of the master set. You can do whatever you want, but count me out.”

  Panic masked her beautiful features, and she backed away from the wheel slowly, not daring to take her eyes off of it.

  “Aura—”

  “I said no!”

  Snow watched as Aura raced away, wondering what about a spinning wheel could so spook a woman who had no qualms about grand theft auto or tampering with the wiring of a law officer’s car.

  She looked around at the discarded treasures of days gone past that littered the hallway. This wasn’t even the largest of the rooms, and there was much more to explore. It would take forever to sort through on her own.

  But she wondered, as she stared at the spindle of the wheel, if perhaps she was making a terrible mistake. A mistake that would cost them all dearly.

  15

  Mirror, Mirror

  Snow couldn’t understand what had upset Aura, but if this house was going to be her home for a while, then she wanted to get to know it inside and out. She was careful not to make it too sparkly, too polished, because she didn’t want to upset the apple cart. She set about cleaning with supplies she had found in the kitchen pantry by removing a cobweb here, chasing away a family of dust bunnies there, and making her way through the enormous faded mansion room by room. Eventually, she came across another “Do Not Enter” sign. It was attached to a narrow door tucked between the library and the formal dining room. A closet, perhaps?