Simply Irresistible Read Online Free PDF Page A

banged. She hoped it was only a door.
    “I’m Atropos,” the brunette said.
    “And I’m Clotho,” the blonde said.
    “And I’m Lachesis,” said the redhead.
    Then they all stared at her as if she should recognize their admittedly odd names.
    “I’m sorry,” Vivian said. “I’ve never heard of you.”
    “We’re the Fates!” they said in unison, and that was when she knew she was dreaming. Kyle’s comic book was coming back to haunt her. Either that, or Aunt Eugenia had been involved in something even stranger than usual.
    “Are you a rock group?” Vivian asked, deciding to play into the dream rather than fight it.
    “A what?” Atropos asked.
    “A rock group,” Clotho said quietly. “You know, like in those beach party movies.”
    “Annette Funicello?” Lachesis asked, and then shuddered.
    “We’re not that shallow,” Atropos said.
    “No, no, no,” Clotho said. “We’re the Fates.”
    “You know,” Lachesis said, just in case Vivian missed it. “The Fates.”
    Vivian was apparently staring at them blankly because Atropos said in exasperation, “Shouldn’t we have fallen into human mythology by now?”
    “I thought we had,” Clotho said. “The Greeks referred to us properly.”
    “And then the Norse,” said Lachesis.
    “Who got it wrong,” Atropos added as an aside, “calling us the Norn.”
    “The Weird Sisters,” they said in unison.
    “As if we’re sisters at all,” said Clotho.
    Vivian’s head was spinning. She was beginning to suspect something was seriously wrong here— she was awake and this still wasn’t making sense.
    “And that Wagner,” Lachesis said, “dressing us the way he did.”
    “No sane woman would wear those clothes,” said Atropos.
    “I don’t think that was him,” Clotho said. “I think it was the director.”
    “I still didn’t like it,” Lachesis said. “I’d rather be a Valkyrie—”
    “Stop!” Vivian put a hand to her head. The spinning continued. “One at a time, tell me what’s going on.”
    The women stared at her as if she’d made an improper request. Another door banged downstairs—or was that a car backfiring outside? Vivian couldn’t tell.
    “I think the last time we spoke one at a time,” Atropos said.
    “Completing an entire thought on our own,” said Clotho.
    “Had to be three thousand years ago,” said Lachesis.
    They all looked confused. Or crazy. Or maybe Vivian was the crazy one.
    “I don’t care,” Vivian said. “Just tell me what’s happening.”
    “Oh, dear,” Atropos said. “This will be difficult if you have no idea who we are.”
    “Can you spell the building first?” Clotho asked.
    “I can’t spell anything,” Vivian snapped, and then she paused. “You don’t mean spell-spell, do you? As in spelling bee?”
    The women stared at each other, looking even more confused.
    “I suppose not,” Vivian said. “That would be too simple.”
    She marched across her floor and headed into the kitchen, pushing open the swinging door. The kitchen had been remodeled just before she moved in and still had that new plastic smell appliances sometimes had. Her large blue teakettle, shaped like the Tick with his little antennae serving as a handle, looked out of place on the black stove.
    She grabbed the kettle, turned on the cold water, and shoved the kettle beneath it. Breakfast. She needed breakfast. And time to think.
    These women had mentioned Aunt Eugenia. So they were connected to Vivian somehow, and they thought Aunt Eugenia had told her something.
    Maybe Aunt Eugenia had. She had sent Vivian a box full of papers the week before she died. Vivian had scanned them to look for a new version of the will and had found nothing except handwritten notes, books, and newspaper clippings from the previous century. She planned to go through it all when she had more time.
    Cold water splashed on her hand. She shut off the faucet, dried off the teakettle, and set it on the stove. Then she slid out her toaster