"Alice, darling, what in the world are you thinking of?" Mother called out from the living room as I was passing by.
"Uh, just some memories," I replied nervously, hoping that my mother wasn't going to ask me about Lorina. I could see it from the way things were going, that it was going to be a very difficult day trying to keep Lorina's secret.
"What memories might they be, Darling?" Mother asked. Why Mother was so suddenly interested in my thoughts is beyond me.
"Oh . . . umm . . . I was thinking about Wonderland," I said still hoping that my mother wouldn't ask me about Lorina and her out of character state.
"Do you think about this 'Wonderland' often?" Mother asked making a face of worry and allowing some of that worry to leak into her voice.
"Uh, I guess so. It's such a curious place, it can't help but to seep into my thoughts, I suppose," I was beginning to feel very thankful that mother wasn't questioning me about Lorina, yet at the same time I was starting to wonder why mother sounded anxious.
"I see. And have you seen any of those bizarre things recently?" Mother questioned.
"What do you mean by 'bizarre things'?" I asked, unsure of what my mother meant.
"Well, you did tell me that there was a grinning cat. That is something very strange and bizarre."
"Oh, you mean the Cheshire Ca-"
"Yes, yes, this Cheshire cat, have you seen it recently?" Mother asked cutting me off from saying my next words.
"Umm . . . well, no." Why was Mother so full of questions?
"Ok, good. Now, have you seen any of those other strange creatures since you told your father and me about them?"
"No." I wanted to tell my mother that they were not strange, that all those creatures were marvelous works of wonder. But I knew better then to talk back to my mother, and so I held my tongue.
"Now, Darling, if you ever see any of those creatures again, I want you to tell me or your father right away." Mother's voice still hadn't lost that distinct undertone of worry.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Now, I want you to promise me that you will tell me or your father right away if you see anything strange."
Automatically I raised my hand to my chest and recited, "I promise that I will tell you or father next time I see one of those bizarre creatures."
"Alice, darling, why is your hand over your heart?" Mother asked.
"Oh . . . uh, Lorina told me that's how you make a promise." Why mother did not already know this is a mystery to me.
"Well, I think your word is strong enough that you don't need to put your hand over your heart every time you make a promise."
"Oh, well, thank you." I really didn't know what my mother meant by that, but it sounded like a complement.
"I raised you not to lie. That way all your words will be strong." I'm still not sure what Mother meant by this. How can words be strong? It doesn't make any sense to me.
"Now, Alice, have you promised anything to Lorina recently?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, hoping I could somehow get away from telling Mother Lorina's surprise.
"Well, you did say that Lorina told you to put your hand over your heart whenever you promised something."
"Why . . . yes, she did," Words cannot begin to describe how uncomfortably panicked I felt at that moment.
"So, did you promise anything to Lorina?"
"Umm . . . well-"
"It's alright, Darling. You don't have to tell me what you promised. I just want to know if Lorina had you promise anything recently, because Lorina knows not to mess with you while-" Mother looked at me then cut herself off. "So, did you promise anything to Lorina?"
"Umm . . . yes." I really didn't want to tell mother that I promised Lorina something at all, but it was better then telling her what I promised.
"Shame on Lorina! I told her not to toy with you while you aren't-" Mother looked at me and abruptly stopped. "Well, Alice, I'm going to have a little chat with Lorina."
"Ok," I said not sure if I was supposed to reply with anything.
"Your sister should really know better then to tease you," Mother said as she stood up from her chair to leave the room, presumably to find Lorina.
A/N
So, as you can probably tell Alice's mother is the more worried, overprotecting parent. Poor, Alice, she's grateful her mother isn't asking her about the engagement, but she doesn't realize that she is making her mother even more worried by talking about Wonderland.
B/N
Whew! I am on a roll here. You see, I've let this sit unedited for a few of day's now and . . . well, let's just say I got this puppy done in about 30 minutes. And yes, that is very, very quick for me. I'm paranoid that I'm going to leave something misspelled or that something won't be in the right tense, therefore I read this thing over like 10-12 times. And you know what? I still miss stuff. -_- I will never be an editor when I grow up. Much too stressful. I'll just stick to Beta reading to satiate my editing cravings. ^_^
On another note I've been given permission to make this beta note as long as my little heart desires so be prepared for a long one . . . or, well, longer than it already is.
I think Alice's mom is extremely uptight. She really needs to relax and just breathe. I mean come on how many kids don't play pretend? I still play pretend and I'm 15 years old. And I had 2 imaginary friends when I was 5. I mean, if you're going to be worried about something worry about . . . well, I can't think of a good example right now, but just worry about something else. By getting this little glimpse of her mom it's obvious who's pushing the whole "Alice is a shizo!" thing. Alice's dad is really cool. We don't know him that well, but we just know he's cool. Awesomeness is emanating off of him. He's like "Let the kid play pretend. It was probably a dream or something."
It's clear to me now. Alice's mom simply has nothing to occupy her time. Maybe she should take up knitting! Or crocheting. I've never been very good at crocheting, though. It comes with my whole being ambidextrous. I have to crochet left handed, yet I knit right handed. Very confusing stuff.
But I'm going to end this now, because I've probably severely abused the whole make-this-as-long-as-you-want deal. *sigh* what's a girl to do when she has so much to say? Write a review you say? That's just so . . . unexciting? Boring? Normal? Oh, well. I'll figure something out! Buh-bye, Lovelies!