Enchantment by Pati Nagle Page A

than Holly had visualized but both uninterested and uninteresting. After five minutes of pretty meaningless chat, they left.
    â€œSo, want to see the classrooms?” Mad asked. “I think we can get a peek at a lab.”
    The chemistry lab they looked at was empty; all the instruments were put away, so it was just a bunch of long, high tables. Mad yakked about a class she had taken there the previous year. Holly listened, uninspired.
    She cheered up when they hit the grocery store on the way home. While Mad picked up raisin bran and single-serving bowls of soup, Holly filled a basket in the produce department. Cooking made her happy. Even though Mad pretended to be grumpy about it, Holly knew that the meal she was fixing was one of Mad’s favorites.
    Or was it? Maybe Mad’s tastes had changed.
    Doubt assailed her, but she ignored it as she picked out baguettes for garlic bread. At least two of Madison’s roommates were looking forward to this dinner. If Mad turned up her nose at it, that was Mad’s problem.
    Holly paid for the groceries with some of the money Dad had given her, and remembered that he wanted her to buy Mom a gift. As they drove back to the townhouse, she brought this up.
    â€œPearl Street Mall,” Madison said. “We’ll go tomorrow. You’ll like it.”
    The determined cheerfulness was giving way to impatience. Holly wondered if it was because Mad wanted a cigarette. She thought back over the last few days—over all of Madison’s visits home in the last year—and saw Mad’s behavior in a new light.
    Her sister had become edgy, impatient. Holly had assumed it was because she was pursuing a line of study that she didn’t really love, but maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe it was just addiction.
    She didn’t like thinking about that, and she sure wasn’t going to bring up the subject. Mad’s choices were none of her business. She was an adult, and Holly was still a high school kid.
    When they got to the townhouse Holly started cooking right away while Mad disappeared upstairs. It was still early, but the spaghetti sauce would be better if it simmered for a while, and Holly had bought some fudge chocolate pudding mix to make for dessert. She had just poured the pudding into bowls and put them in the refrigerator when Pam walked in.
    â€œHi, Holly! Whatcha doing? Working on the feast?”
    â€œUm, yeah.” Holly gave the spaghetti sauce a stir, turned down the heat, and covered the pan. “Actually I’m done for now. I was thinking about taking a walk down to the lake.”
    â€œCan I come along?”
    â€œSure, I guess.”
    Pam grinned. “Let me grab my sandals.”
    Holly stepped out onto the back patio to wait. The pansies’ colors were even more glorious in sunlight, and between them the bowls of white petunias cascaded like foaming waterfalls. It made Holly want to create something like this at home. Maybe she’d plant a bowl of flowers when she got back—though it was kind of late in the year for that. Chrysanthemums would be better than petunias at this point.
    Pam joined her, wearing a Rockies cap and shades over her tank top and shorts, her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She carried a plastic grocery bag. “Do you want a hat?”
    â€œNah. I’m all right.”
    Pam swung the gate open and started down to the path. Holly caught up with her.
    â€œYour flowers sure are gorgeous.”
    Pam smiled. “Thanks.”
    â€œAre you studying agriculture?”
    â€œNope. Nursing.”
    That made sense. Pam seemed to care a lot about other people.
    â€œHow about you?” Pam asked. “Have you decided on a major?”
    Holly kicked a pebble down the path. “Not yet.”
    â€œWell, you don’t have to choose right away. There’s a lot of pressure to do that, but it’s better to know what you want. I changed my major twice.”
    â€œYou