Chapter Three
A s Lizzie glanced in the mirror, she smoothed her hands over the fabric of the pink dress with white lace and frill on top, thankful she had a slender waist, considering the puffy bottom of the dress made her hips look wider. The dress was one of the many elaborate ones she’d found in her great-great-grandmother’s armoire. She’d also discovered numerous hat boxes, yet she refused to don such an item. She felt ridiculous enough as it was. “Good thing this is only a dream,” she told herself. “I’d never be caught out in public like this.”
At least the little calf boots she wore were cute, something she’d consider buying in the future—whenever she woke up from this dream.
Lizzie retraced her steps to the dining room. The table had been cleared of all the dishes, except one, with some cut-up fruit, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Presumably, a plate left for her—she hoped.
“You look lovely in that dress. It has always been one of my favorites,” the woman who was at the table earlier said as she came into the room. “I trust that you’re feeling better?”
“Yes.” She didn’t want to disagree with the woman or suggest that perhaps the woman and her entire family might be better candidates for the funny farm than she was. “I’m afraid I didn’t ask you earlier. What should I call you?”
“Call me?” The woman’s left eyebrow arched momentarily before she squinted and rushed toward her, placing the back of her hand against Lizzie’s forehead. “Oh, dear. You’re not running a fever.” She ushered her to the table and pulled out a chair for her to sit down. “You haven’t hit your head, have you?”
Lizzie shook her head, touched by the compassion the woman displayed.
“Perhaps I should call your father back home.” She knelt by Lizzie’s side. “He left for work a few moments ago.”
“My father?”
“Yes, dear, and I’m your mother.” She gently patted her hand.
Well, that answered two questions. She still had another. “What city do we live in?”
The woman known as Mother blinked a couple times, then stood, placing a hand firmly on each hip. “Elizabeth Ruth, how dare you play such an ugly April Fool’s joke on your mother. I was frantically worried about you!”
Lizzie forced a laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” If this whole situation hadn’t been incredulous and only a dream, albeit the weirdest and most vivid dream she’d ever had, she would have been frightened herself.
Mother’s features softened as a smile crept upon her lips. “I’m afraid your breakfast has gotten cold.”
“It’s all right.” Lizzie smiled in return. “I’ll just pop it into the microwave and it’ll be fine.”
“Seriously, Elizabeth. Are you going to be like this all day?” Mother sighed. “And pray tell, what is a microwave? Another obscure thing from that vivid imagination of yours?”
“Uh…” The woman didn’t know what a microwave was? Maybe she was playing a prank on Lizzie now? Then Lizzie remembered the old-fashioned cars she’d spotted when she looked out the bedroom window earlier. What could she say? If she wasn’t careful, dream or no dream, these people would surely have her committed. Now, even she doubted her own sanity.
“Aren’t you done eating yet, Elizabeth?” The oldest of the two little girls claiming to be her sister placed her hands on her hips—obviously a trait passed down in this family. “You know we have to hurry if we want to catch the train.”
“Mary Margaret, go get Olivia and make sure you’ve both washed up before you go.” Mother placed the plate of food in front of Elizabeth and handed her the fork. “I’ll see to it that your sister eats, and you’ll be on your way in no time.”
“Thank you.” Elizabeth took the fork and ate, telling herself it wasn’t any different than eating cold pizza, which tasted better than cold eggs and bacon. At least the fruit tasted refreshing.
Fifteen minutes later, she was heading out the door with Olivia and Mary Margaret both tugging on her arms.
“If you’re not going to wear a hat, at least make sure to take your parasol and don’t forget your coin purse. I’ve already put the money your father gave me for your adventure today in it,” Mother said, extending a white frilly umbrella to Lizzie and handing her a small white coin purse. Then Mother leaned toward Lizzie and kissed her on the cheek before kissing both younger girls.
Lizzie blushed. When was the last time her own mother had kissed her? This woman was endearing; and apparently, she wasn’t a prisoner if she could take her two young charges out for the day.
“Make sure to mind your sister today,” Mother said, and held the door open while the girls left.
Once they got to the bottom of the stairs, Lizzie didn’t know which way to go. What she wouldn’t give for her cell phone with the GPS. She started to turn toward the right, but both girls tugged at her arms. “This way, Elizabeth.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. It reminded her of a small child trying to pull a dog on a leash—only this time, she was the dog and she had no idea which way to go. In a sense, she felt as disoriented as a dog, not sure where to go from here. She could drag the girls along anywhere she really wanted to go, but she’d only get them lost. “Why don’t we make a game of our adventure. Since both of you know the way so well, why don’t you lead me?”
“Yeah,” they squealed in delight.
“I love games,” Olivia announced.
Lizzie smiled at Olivia’s enthusiasm, but doubted her ability to lead them to the train station. “How old are you, Olivia?”
She held up her left hand, all her fingers spread wide. “I’m five.”
“And since I’m eight and the oldest, I get to lead the way.” Mary Margaret tugged on her arm. “We need to go this way.”
They started to cross the street, but Olivia planted her feet firmly and tugged. “No! I want to go this way.”
Mary Margaret stopped, turned around and moved in front of Olivia, never letting go of Lizzie’s arm. “We’re not going to the candy store. If you keep stopping, we are going to miss the train.”
As if echoing in agreement, a train whistle sounded in the near distance.
“On, no,” Mary Margaret exclaimed.
“We’ll get candy later, Olivia.” Lizzie turned the girls toward the direction Mary Margaret had been heading a moment earlier. “We better hurry. Lead the way.”
Lizzie scampered toward the sound of the train. Mary Margaret picked up on the urgency and took off at a brisk pace as poor Olivia struggled to keep up, hindered by her tiny legs. She scooped Olivia up in her arms and quickly hurried to follow her sister. How she wished she was wearing a pair of sweat pants and tennis shoes right now!