Tea Cups & Tiger Claws Read Online Free PDF Page A

windows. With a quick look back at Vera Snyder’s, she caught her staring like all the rest. Poor, unfortunate little people, too jealous to come out and send her off properly. With a hand extended to the chauffer, she slid into her seat with impeccable grace.
    At Ermel’s command, the Rolls took a lengthy, circuitous route to the base of the hill, giving her many pleasant opportunities to get stared at by people on the street. It would have been more pleasant had she been able to watch them stare, but that didn’t seem right, so she captured as much of their envy as possible by looking out the sides of her eyes and stealing occasional glances.
    And then the motorcar turned left on Center Street and started climbing the hill.
    Ermel watched manicured hedges and expansive lawns sail past her window, and the higher the motorcar climbed, the more manicured and expansive they became. She saw long driveways at the base of the hill give way to long, meandering driveways, which gave way to driveways that meandered farther than the eye could see. She counted chimneys. Three chimneys, three chimneys, three chimneys, four, five chimneys, five chimneys, five chimneys, more. Her eyes rolled from rooftop to rooftop, hopscotching across the tops of the modest mansions, frolicking at length across the tops of the fairyland estates. And then the motorcar stopped in front of a giant wrought iron gate. They had arrived at Toomington Hall. The top of the hill. Almost the very top.
    Next to Sunny Slope Manor, Toomington Hall was the most famous mansion on the hill. Only those two sat on the north side of Sunrise Way, with Sunny Slope crowning the top, and Toomington off to the side. Every other house in town sat below, like servants. Toomington also shared a Queen Anne architectural style with its fancy neighbor, a fact which the Chamber of Commerce trumpeted in their brochure: “When gazing to the top of our fair town, you will be inspired not by flat-roofed moderns that mingle politely with the mountainside, but by two majestic Victorians towering audaciously and piercing the blue sky with their razor sharp peaks.”
    An old man in a blue uniform came out of the gate house, nodded to the chauffer, and pulled on a metal bar sticking out of the ground. From inside the gatehouse came a loud clank and a buzzing, whirring sound. The giant gate started opening. In the middle it had a fancy brass plaque with the letter “T” on it. Ermel’s eyes followed the brass plaque as it moved from right to left. Then the engine revved and the motorcar began the final climb to the top.
    Jeb stared out the window with an open mouth. Ermel jabbed him with an elbow and then took inventory of herself. Holding a pocket mirror to her face, she turned to the left, almost hitting Jeb with the ocean liner, turned to the right, smiled, squinted, and rubbed a blotch of lipstick off her tooth. She tucked the mirror back into her black handbag and turned her attention to the ermine stole, gently, evenly running her hands over the top until all the hairs pointed obediently in the right direction. She looked at her gown, at her boots, at the babies. She told Jeb to wipe their faces with his hanky. She was ready.
    The multiple peaks of Toomington Hall’s roof rose and fell above the trees that lined the driveway. Every few seconds, when the landscaping allowed, bigger sections of the mansion broke into view. Fleeting glimpses of a sunburst carved into a gable, of fancy wood siding shaped like fish scales, of a porch big enough to get lost in, brought Ermel to the edge of her seat. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. Then the motorcar entered a clearing, and she realized she hadn’t been admiring Toomington Hall at all. Those grand peaks had belonged to Sunny Slope Manor, which now towered before her very eyes. She lowered her gaze—and her expectations—and found Toomington Hall in the shadow of its neighbor. Funny how a twenty room mansion could look so