by Jana Oliver
Once inside her room, she pushed the door closed with a foot and sank on her bed, still holding the plate and the drink. That wasn’t her mom in the kitchen. She might look like her mother, but that was a robot, someone just going through the motions, phoning it in, one cupcake at a time.
Though overly protective, her mom was pretty even-tempered, unless one of the hags on the library board got to her, though recently she’d been snappish and prone to crying fits. She’d been going to church twice a week and she had one of those gris-gris bags like Reena carried. None of that seemed to help.
Briar had spent a lot more time in her room to avoid getting into fights over stupid stuff like how much laundry detergent to put in the washer. One of her classmates had suggested that her mom was going through the change, but didn’t they have medication for that sort of thing?
She set the food aside and then flopped down on her bed, staring up at the stars her father had put on the ceiling when she was little to watch over her at night. To her left, the bookshelf was crammed with fairy tales. A Disney princess poster was positioned on one wall and on the other was one from The Hunger Games. It was like she wasn’t sure who she wanted to be.
Some day I’ll know. Then it’ll all be good.
But when?
Between the shower, the yummy cupcake and the tea, Briar felt human again. She carefully styled her hair, letting it fall in loose golden curls down to the middle of her back. It was her greatest asset or her biggest headache. If it behaved itself, it was gorgeous, like a movie star’s. If not, it was as if Medusa had bleached her hair blonde and all the snakes were PMSing at once.
Briar grinned at herself in the mirror – despite the brain-numbing humidity, today was a good-hair day. Hopefully Pat would love it. She carefully applied some make-up and dug through her closet in search of the perfect thing to wear to the lake. Something cool, but kind of sexy would be good, but so far nothing was right. She tossed clothes on the bed, trying to decide. Dragonfly, her cat, took residence right in the middle of her black silk top, littering it with white hair.
‘No, don’t!’ she said, rescuing the garment before the claws did any damage. After it was safe, she cuddled the feline for a few minutes and a loud purr was her reward.
‘So what do you think is wrong with Mom, Dragonfly?’
The cat yawned in disinterest, displaying a rough pink tongue. In Dragonfly’s brain, if it had nothing do with the food bowl, it was unimportant.
After another rummage through her closet, Briar settled on a pair of skinny jeans and a red top that always made her hair look especially good. Too many people had seen her all grimy at the re-enactment and it was time to banish that image from folks’ minds, at least those of any cute guys. Not that there were that many in Bliss. Pat, for sure. Even Joshua Quinn, and a couple more. The rest were just barely OK and so not on her radar.
When Briar trudged downstairs, she found her mom washing dishes, by hand, though they had a dishwasher. The cupcakes were gone, probably collected by one of the library people. In their place was a selection of freshly baked cookies painstakingly layered in a series of tight circles with precise spaces between each of them, evidence that her mom’s OCD was once again in full force.
Briar took a deep breath. There wasn’t much she could do if her mother wouldn’t talk to her, so it was time to go for gold.
‘Ah, Mom, tonight’s the party at the lake. Can I stay out until, um, midnight? I mean, I’m almost sixteen so—’
Her mother stiffened as she looked over at her. ‘No, you’re not going out tonight. You need to be at home.’
‘But the party’s sorta for my birthday. I have to be there.’ That wasn’t quite true, but it sounded good.
‘Not tonight.’
Reena had been right – her parents were going to ruin everything. Pat would meet some other girl and fall in love and she’d never get another chance at happiness again.
‘Mom!’ she wheedled. ‘I’ve been doing all the extra chores you gave me—’
‘And complaining the entire time,’ her mother cut in.
‘That’s in the teen operational manual. It’s totally required,’ Briar replied. ‘I’ve been home on time all summer. I just want one night out.’
‘Not tonight.’
‘Oh, come on! If you’re going to ground me, you have to tell me why. You owe me that.’
‘Briar, please, not tonight—’ her mom began, her voice rising.
The door swung open and Briar’s dad entered the kitchen. Franklin Rose was frowning, his brown hair far too short to be fashionable, and his suit rumpled from the heat. A computer bag hung from a shoulder, his job as a pharmacy salesman keeping him on the road part of the time.
‘What’s going on here? I could hear you two from the driveway.’
‘I want to go to the lake tonight, to the party. Mom says I can’t go, but she won’t tell me why.’
‘She has to be home tonight, Franklin,’ her mom said, sudsy hands on her hips. ‘You know why.’
‘Not this again, Maralee,’ he said, shaking his head as he placed the computer bag on the floor near the pantry. ‘I thought we’d settled this.’
‘No, you’re just ignoring the truth,’ her mom said, her voice tightening more now. ‘She has to be home tonight.’
‘I will be. I’ll be home before midnight,’ Briar said. ‘What’s the big deal? It’s just a party, and it’s my birthday tomorrow. This could be like an early present.’
But it was as if they had forgotten she was in the room.
Her mom moved a few steps closer to her dad, eyes moist. ‘Please, Franklin, this is important.’
‘This has to end, Maralee. You know what the doctors said,’ he murmured, gently touching her shoulder. He looked over at Briar. ‘You can go to the lake tonight. Just . . .’ Her father sighed in resignation. ‘Be home by . . . eleven thirty. No later. You understand?’
Briar broke out in a grin. He’d come through for her.
‘Thanks, Dad!’ she said, and gave him a quick hug. The victory didn’t feel as awesome when her mother slowly turned and then walked up the stairs without a word.
‘Mom?’ No response. The door to her parents’ bedroom closed behind her.
‘What’s up with her?’ Briar asked, her voice lower now. ‘Is she sick?’
Her dad shrugged, though she could see the worry in his eyes.
‘It depends on who you talk to. She has this . . . fixation about you turning sixteen. That it’s a bad thing.’
‘She’s always been strange about my birthdays. Why is this one a big deal? Does she think I’m going to run off and get married or something?’ Her father wasn’t meeting her eyes now. ‘Come on, Dad, I’m not stupid. What’s really going on?’
He waved her out on the porch, closing the screen door behind them. They settled on the old porch swing, rocking it back and forth. They hadn’t done that in a long time, and she realized how much she missed those moments together. Her dad could be a pain sometimes, but she loved him a lot.
He squeezed her hand. ‘Your mom has always been a bit different. That’s what I loved about her. Some of the women in this town . . .’ He shook his head. ‘She started behaving strangely after that day at the river, the day you nearly drowned. From that point on, your mother believed you’d been . . . cursed. That at midnight when you turn sixteen you’re going to . . . die.’
‘What, so tonight?’ Briar blurted. Of all the things she could have imagined, that one wasn’t on the list. ‘You’re messing with me, right?’ Her father did have a quirky sense of humour sometimes.
‘No. She honestly believes that someone put a curse on you and nothing I’ve said will shake her of that.’
‘Nope. Not buying that, Dad. That’s too weird.’
‘I’m serious, Briar,’ he replied, his brow furrowing deeply. ‘Haven’t you ever wondered why she won’t let you take driver’s ed?’
Briar had wondered about that. ‘I just figured . . .
I don’t know, I just thought she was sad about me getting older. Moms can be that way.’
Her father’s expression was now a mix of disbelief and something harder to discern. ‘It’s not because of that. She doesn’t think you’re going to be here tomorrow.’
A tremble coursed through her. ‘For real?’
He nodded.
‘But it can’t be true, can it?’
‘She thinks it is. Me? No. It’s too crazy to think about.’
That was good, right? Her dad had always been pretty sensible so maybe this was just in her mom’s mind. ‘You’ll get her some help, right? I mean . . . have her see a doctor or something? Have her take some pills?’
He put his head in his hands. ‘She’s seen psychiatrists and it hasn’t worked. We even went to Atlanta last spring to talk to a specialist. Remember when you stayed over at your cousin’s house and you thought we went to see a basketball tournament? I was trying to get her some help even then.’
Briar would never forget those three days. It was when she’d discovered that Saralyn really was an airhead and that they had zip in common other than the Rose name and the blonde hair.
My mom is nuts. So all those rumours hadn’t been wrong.
‘Who does she think put the curse on me?’
Her father shook his head. ‘Since it’s not real, there’s no need to act like it is. That’s why I insisted we never tell you about it in the first place.’
‘All right.’ Briar pulled her hand out of his and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. As she thought it through, Mrs Parker went by, waving. Briar and her dad returned the gesture automatically.
‘Is everyone in this town crazy?’ she asked.
‘No. Just us Roses and a few . . . others,’ her father replied, his eyes tracking the lady and the wheelbarrow.
‘Well, there’s an easy way to fix this,’ Briar said. ‘When I don’t croak tonight, then it’s all good,’ she said, trying to make this sound as normal as possible. ‘Mom will know I’m not cursed and she’ll get better. Right?’ Briar added hopefully.
‘That’s what I’m counting on. Or maybe she’ll come up with some other whacked-out notion that we can’t shake out of her.’
She heard a tinge of anger in those words. How bad was it getting between them?
‘You . . . still love her, right?’ Briar asked, almost in a whisper. ‘You’re not thinking of . . . divorce or anything, are you?’
‘I still love her,’ he replied, ‘and, no, I’m not thinking of divorce. I will always love your mother, even if she’s a bit delusional.’
Briar sighed in relief. ‘You remember what Granny Rose was like. She was totally odd. She said she had tea parties with Jeb Stuart’s ghost.’
‘I’d forgotten that,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘It’s a fact: our kind of Rose crazy isn’t just for show – it’s bone deep.’
Briar laughed. That was true. Since her mom was a Rose as well – a third cousin who’d married in the family – Briar had all the genes working against her.
Her father stood, distracted. ‘You’d best be going to your party. I’ll go up and talk to your mom. Maybe I can settle her down.’
She took his hand and squeezed it. ‘Thanks, Dad. You’re awesome.’
‘You know the rules: stay away from the booze and the boys.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She’d follow one of those rules, but the other . . .
He dropped a kiss on top of her head. ‘I’m really proud of you. You’re a great daughter, even if you forget to clean the cat box. Now go have some fun, but be home before midnight. We don’t want your mother completely freaking out, do we?’
Warmed by her father’s love and his support, she smiled up at him. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be home on time.’
Just in case her mom wasn’t nuts after all.
As she hiked on her own along the old road to the lake, Briar found it hard to get into the party spirit after the buzz kill her dad had dropped on her. Though the exercise made her sweatier than she preferred, she decided against calling Reena for a ride. She needed time to think.
Mom really thinks I’m going to die. No wonder she’d been acting so strange the last few months. In her mother’s case, that irrational fear would take on more power than for most. The reason was just up ahead, a roadside shrine that had been there since before Briar was born. It consisted of a white wooden cross inscribed with the words ‘Rest in Peace’. There were always roses in front of it, and today there was a tiny teddy bear wearing a Statesboro High School Blue Devils T-shirt.
Briar stopped in front of the cross and adjusted the bear so it sat upright. This was a family memorial marking where her Aunt Sarah had died in a traffic accident years ago. Sarah had been Briar’s age, just sixteen, when it had happened. Her mom never wanted to talk about it, so she hadn’t asked for details. She just remembered to stop every now and then, and pay her respects to a relative she’d never met.
A truck rolled up and came to a halt, causing her to turn in surprise. It was Ronnie and Ben, the two pranksters from her class. Cigarette smoke wafted out of the driver’s side window in a thin blue haze.
‘You want a ride?’ Ronnie called out.
‘No, I’m good. Thanks!’ No way would she get in the truck with them or she’d smell like an ashtray by the time she reached the lake. She could fix her make-up, but not her clothes.
‘OK, see you there,’ he said.
‘Hey, did you guys tag the water tower?’ she asked.
Both of them lit up in grins. I knew it. She shielded her face from the dust as they drove on.
Maybe I should have asked Reena for a ride.
As she walked on, birdsong accompanied her. Ahead, a squirrel bounded across the road and then vanished into the woods. Her phone buzzed and she checked the screen. It was Reena. She let it roll over to voicemail, not wanting to talk right now.
Was this curse thing going down or not? Her dad didn’t think so, but Reena and her gran believed in such things – that was part of their hoodoo beliefs – so to them this would be for real.
What if this is my last day alive? That would totally suck.
Briar had too many things to do to end up in a grave this early. She’d never been to Europe or to New Zealand to see if hobbits really lived there. She hadn’t been to Disneyland and she didn’t even have her learner’s permit yet. And she definitely didn’t want to die a virgin.
I’m obsessing again. She did that a lot nowadays. But not tonight: there was a party to enjoy and a hot guy to snag as her very own. All this craziness could wait until later, and then, when midnight came and went, her mom would know everything was all right.
Because it just has to be.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bliss’s lake, located south of town just downstream from Potter’s Mill, had gone through a number of ups and downs in its watery life. By the mid-sixties it was a dumping ground and its beaches a mess. A concerned group of locals had laboriously cleaned the shoreline and constructed a series of floating docks. Even folks who’d griped about the nature nuts messing with ‘their lake’ began to enjoy it once again.
According to Briar’s grandfather, the local kids had always congregated at the north-eastern edge of the lake, mostly because it was sheltered from sight. Besides a nice beach, there was a handy set of woods right behind the parking area in case you wanted some privacy. He’d admitted to taking her grandmother there on more than one occasion, which was just too much information in Briar’s opinion.
Without breaking her stride, Briar headed for the restrooms located near the parking lot, hoping that nobody had seen her. She ducked inside and was happy to find no else was there, unless you counted a lone wasp buzzing along the ceiling. She pulled the cosmetics case out of her bag and fixed her face, trying to deal with all the sweat and oil. After more lip gloss and a spritz of body spray, she was ready to go.
Once she was presentable, Briar headed towards the parking lot. It was already crowded with c
ars and trucks, with a few bikes in residence, as not everyone had a driver’s licence. The music rolled up towards her from the shoreline and the bonfire was already lit. The scent of roasting meat and citronella candles hung heavy in the air. Kids were scattered around, some in groups, some on their own. She guessed there were about thirty of them, ranging from freshmen to seniors, the majority of them from her high school.
As she wove her way through the parking lot, Briar looked for Pat’s car, but it wasn’t here. What if he changed his mind and stayed home? That would screw up all her plans.
She stopped to talk to friends, to find out what was new. Some mentioned the re-enactment; others had fresh gossip to share. Most of the kids were clustered around the bonfire, which was set inside a pit ringed with concrete blocks and positioned far enough away from the woods to avoid a conflagration. A bucket of water sat nearby, probably some adult’s idea of a fire extinguisher, though by the end of the night it was a good bet it would be dumped over someone’s head.
The clip clop of hoofs made her turn towards the road. Joshua angled his four-footed ride on to an open stretch of grass, climbed down and then tied the horse to a tree with a long lead. As he petted the sleek black mare with genuine fondness, a Border collie trotted up and parked herself at his feet, tongue lolling.
‘There you are. I wondered if I’d lost you to that rabbit,’ he said.
‘Hey, it’s horse boy!’ someone called out.
A muscle in Joshua’s face twitched, but he didn’t reply. A couple of girls went over to ooh and ahh over the mare. He was polite with them, answering their questions, but Briar could tell he was uncomfortable with the attention.
Joshua wasn’t a regular at the lake parties. Why is he here tonight?
‘Hey. Happy almost birthday,’ Reena called out as she crossed from the parking lot. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Pretty good. I nearly didn’t get to come. My mom is totally freaking out.’