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The Girls of Lighthouse Lane #2

Rose's Story

The Girls of Lighthouse Lane #2 by Thomas Kinkade
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Katherine is the daughter of the lighthouse keeper. She dreams of becoming a painter. But in 1905, a girl can't grow up to be a famous artist -- can she?

Rose just moved to the town of Cape Light. She wants to fit in with her new friends, but Rose has a secret she can't share with anyone. . . .

Lizabeth is Kat's rich cousin who always gets what she wants. But Lizabeth soon finds out that money can't keep her from losing the most precious thing of all. . . .

Amanda's mother passed away, and now she keeps house for her minister father. When Amanda meets a very special young man, can she find the courage to be friends with him in spite of her father's disapproval?

The quiet New England town of Cape Light never seems to change. But in the year 1905, the lives of these four friends will be transformed in ways they never could have imagined. . . .
HarperCollins; June 2009
208 pages; ISBN 9780061958410
Read online, or download in secure EPUB
Title: The Girls of Lighthouse Lane #2
Author: Thomas Kinkade; Erika Tamar
 
Excerpt

Chapter One

"That could be interesting," Poppa said. "What do you think, Miranda?"

"I don't know," Momma said. "It would be a huge change for us. For one thing, it would mean pulling Rose out of her school."

"I wouldn't mind that at all," Rose said. She had never told her parents about being shunned. It would hurt Momma to know that she'd been the cause of it.

"You liked Cape Light, didn't you, Rose?" Aunt Norma asked.

Rose nodded. She knew that Cape Light was a tiny peninsula in Massachusetts jutting into the Atlantic Ocean. She'd visited there on a one-week vacation back when she was ten. She had discovered riding at Aunt Norma and Uncle Ned's stables. The wonderful Clayton Stables! Otherwise, all she really remembered was the lighthouse that was visible from every part of the town. She'd always wondered what it was like inside.

It would be very strange to live in a small fishing village, but Cape Light could be her escape from Miss Dalyrumple's Institute for Young Ladies.

March 19, 1906
Cape Light

Pull it tighter, Momma!" Rose inhaled and clutched the bedpost with both hands as her mother laced up her new corset. If she could manage to hold her breath, maybe they could cinch her waist by another inch.

"I'm not about to cut off your air supply," Momma said.

"Please," Rose begged. "Only for this morning." Starting at a new school in a new town in the middle of the semester was hard. She had to look her best and acquiring a waistline would certainly help. "Please, Momma. I don't need air!"

"If you can't breathe, you can't think, Rose." Momma smiled. "And you do need a working brain in school, don't you?"

Why did Momma look amused? There was nothing funny about this!

"You've just turned fourteen—why do you feel you have to rush into that awful contraption?" Momma went on.

Easy for her to say, Rose thought. Momma had the perfect hourglass figure without even trying! Rose was tall and skinny and absolutely straight up and down. Every move Momma made was graceful. Every move Rose made put her in immediate danger of tripping over her too-big feet. It wasn't fair.

"It's bad enough that grown women are willing to torture their bodies into unnatural shapes, but—"

"All right, all right!" Rose interrupted. Momma was winding up to make one of her speeches and this morning, of all mornings, Rose couldn't bear to hear a word of it.

"—and the restraints of corsets and long, heavy skirts . . . well, as Amelia Bloomer said, that's tied in with denying the vote to women. Keeping them helpless and—"

"I know all about it," Rose muttered. If she never heard the name Amelia Bloomer again, it would be too soon. Sometimes it seemed that the suffragette who wore pantaloons as everyday outer clothing, of all things, had moved right into their household. How awful to go down in history with bloomers named for you, Rose thought, even if they were supposed to give women freedom of movement. Though Miss Bloomer had died in 1894, more than ten years ago, Momma quoted her every other day!

"You know that corsets displace internal organs, don't you?" Momma was saying. "And interfere with digestion? And—"

"I know all that and I don't care!" Rose crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked pointedly at the door. "I have to get dressed for school."

Momma hesitated with her hand on the doorknob. "I don't want to bother you, but do you want me to help you find something, Rose? With everything still packed away . . ."

It wasn't like Momma to look so uncertain and Rose's heart softened.

"It's important to look right in a new school, and I have no idea what that would be," Rose said. She wasn't even good at looking right at Miss Dalyrumple's. Fashions seemed to come and go so fast, and Rose was always behind the leaders in her class. "What do they wear in New England, anyway?"

"My guess is the girls here might dress more simply," Mother said.

"I just want to blend in," Rose said. She frowned at herself in the mirror. Her white corset had blue ribbon to match the ribbon threaded through her pretty eyelet petticoat. But her collarbones stuck out and her face was too angular. "I'm not a Gibson girl, that's for sure."

"Rose, she's just a product of Charles Dana Gibson's imagination. I'm not saying he's not a good artist, but she's not real. No one looks like the Gibson girl."You do, Rose thought.

"I know she's not real," Rose said, "but she's on plates and calendars and there's all that Gibson girl fashion because everyone loves her type. And look at me!"

"Oh Rosie! You need time to grow into yourself. And sweetie—you are beautiful.""I know, ‘inner beauty.'" Rose sighed. "I hate being new and not knowing a soul and . . . "

Mother stroked Rose's long black hair. "It's awfully hard, but it can be a great adventure, too. I know you'll miss the friends you left behind, but you'll meet new people."

I have no friends to miss, Rose thought.

"Remember how you loved Cape Light when we were here on vacation?" Momma smiled. "We could hardly drag you home."

Because of Summer Glory, Rose thought. She smiled back, remembering. When they had visited Aunt Norma and Uncle Ned, Rose had spent every minute at their stables. Glory was the most beautiful palomino, with a shining golden coat, a white mane, and a white tail. Glory had been sold two years ago, to a good home, Uncle Ned had promised. Rose remembered every detail: white patches on her face and on her legs below the knees, a muzzle like velvet, the soft nickering. If Uncle Ned had known then that the Forbes would move to Cape Light, maybe he would have saved Summer Glory for her. She was so sweet and friendly. . . .

Momma broke into the bittersweet memory. "Come, let's find something for you to wear."

Most of Rose's clothes were still packed in the big trunk in the center of her new bedroom. She opened the creaky lid and the lavender fragrance of their Gramercy Park apartment drifted into the air. The house on Lighthouse Lane had smelled musty when they arrived yesterday. They'd opened all the windows for the March wind to air it out.

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ISBNs
0061958417
9780060543464
9780061958410