Betrayal - Fern Michaels [1]
At twelve, Sara was fifty pounds heavier than Emily, who was already fifteen. Emily wished her sister wouldn’t focus on food so much.
“Mommy says I’m healthy because I eat well. Daddy, too. So there.” Sara struggled to push herself out of the child-sized rocking chair she’d had since she was three. She stood with the small chair still attached to her burgeoning hips.
“Here.” Emily closed the locks on the luggage. “Let me help.” In one swift motion, Emily yanked the rocking chair from Sara’s growing bottom.
“Ouch!” Sara yelled.
“You’re way too big for that chair. You need an adult-sized chair now,” Emily explained.
“No, I don’t. You’re just jealous.” Sara smirked as she rubbed her hands up and down her backside.
Emily rolled her eyes and placed her luggage in the hall. “I can’t imagine why you would say that. Listen, we need to get a move on. Mom and Dad said to be ready by eight. It’s almost nine o’clock,” Emily urged.
“Mommy packed my things last night; besides, I’m not going anywhere until I’ve had my breakfast. So there!” Sara stuck her tongue out at Emily. She lumbered her expanding bulk across the room, stopping in the doorway. “And I don’t care what time it is.”
“Brat!” Emily shouted to her sister’s retreating back. Soon Sara would be the size of a house if something wasn’t done about her weight. She’d try and talk to her once they were at Uncle Alex’s. Sara didn’t seem to act as rotten when they visited their aunt and uncle. Emily was really looking forward to this visit. She’d always felt extremely close to Uncle Alex, plus he had all those wonderful golden retrievers. At this stage in her life, she figured, this was about as close to heaven as she could get.
Emily heard the electric garage door open, reminding her it was time to leave for Asheville. She grabbed her diary, which she’d caught Sara snooping in the other day. She stuffed it in the bottom of her book bag for safekeeping. She glanced around her room one last time, just to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything important behind, then closed her door and headed downstairs.
She couldn’t wait to leave what she privately referred to as the “ice palace.” Her mother was so finicky, always afraid a speck of dust would ruin the ridiculous white furniture throughout their house. Aunt Kate’s house was so much more relaxing. They didn’t even care if the dogs jumped all over the furniture. Aunt Kate would never have white furniture either. Hers was worn and soft, and so what if there was an occasional mass of dog hair? Emily liked the casual life and loved all the animals roaming in and out of the house. Emily figured her mother would have heart failure if an animal of any kind entered their house.
Emily walked into the kitchen just in time to see Sara seated at the breakfast bar with egg yolk smeared across her fat face. Emily grabbed a paper towel, dampened it, and gave it to Sara. “Wipe your face. It’s time to leave. If we don’t get on the road, we’ll end up spending the night in one of those twenty-dollar hotels with the scratchy sheets that you hate.”
Sara snatched the paper towel from Emily and halfheartedly wiped it across her mouth. “I hope you’re satisfied!” Sara tossed the wet paper towel on the kitchen floor.
“C’mon, Sara, don’t be such a pig. Let’s go. Dad’s waiting in the car.” Emily picked up the paper towel and tossed it in the garbage can under the sink. “They’re waiting, Sara,” Emily said, enunciating each word slowly.
“Mommy isn’t in the car yet,” Sara retorted. Emily rolled her eyes. “Yes, but she’s almost ready. I just heard the door slam.” Her mother always hated the fact that they drove to North Carolina instead of flying. If anything cramped her style in the slightest, her mother always let those around her know it. Door slamming had become quite popular the past year.
Reluctantly, Sara shoved away from the table and followed