Seven, eight ... gonna stay up late (Rebekka Franck #4)
Page 18
"Well then you can probably understand why I'm telling you that I'm going back to be with Peter."
I saw the sadness in Sune's eyes and felt a pinch in my stomach. I really loved this guy, I did. We were just too different.
"I had a feeling this was going to happen," he said with a thick voice. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye and he hurried to wipe it away.
"I really love you. I do," I said and grabbed his hand. "It's just that I also still love Peter and I feel like I owe it to Julie to try and make it work with her dad."
Sune nodded heavily. "I know. I would die to give Tobias a real family as well. I would give up anything to have his mother with him again and give him what he has always longed for. It's just ..." He kicked the coffee-table next to him. "It's just so unfair."
"I know. But maybe it's the best for all of us. Now you can go out and find someone your own age. Maybe she can give you that second child you're dreaming of."
"But I don't want anyone else, Rebekka. I love you. You know that."
"That's just the way you feel right now. You'll feel different soon." I sighed. "It sucks having to break up with you, but I have to give this another try. I realized lately that my feelings for him never really died, they just kind of froze for a while. He reminded me of what we had together when he was himself again. Suddenly I remembered who I had fallen in love with."
Sune's eyes flamed up. "You slept with him, didn't you? You slept with him even though we were still together."
"Well ... yes. Okay. You and I were fighting and he was there, reminding me of everything, all what we had." I reached out my hand and stroked his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Sune. I never meant to hurt you."
He pushed my hand away and snorted. "Well it's a little too late for that now, don't you think?"
"I think that you're angry now and I'm going to leave. We'll talk some other time when you're calmed down."
I got up and walked to the door. Once in the hallway I heard Sune throw a plate at the wall and it shattering all over the floor. I exhaled deeply, feeling all kinds of guilt and condemnation. This was not at all how I had wanted things to be between me and Sune. But that was how it turned out and even if I wasn't proud of it, I had to realize I wouldn't be able to change it either.
Now I was with Peter again and he was sitting in my dad's kitchen with all of us, eating breakfast, chatting and laughing. If there was one thing I learned from this experience it was to take one day at a time. Right now it was a Sunday morning and I was with the people I loved. This was how things were and how I wanted it to be.
TO BE CONTINUED
Dear reader,
Thank you for purchasing "Seven, Eight ... Gonna stay up late". Do not fear. This is not the end of Rebekka Franck's story. This is just part one. In part two you will get all the answers to why Thomas De Quincey wanted Rebekka to be killed and why he stole the remains of King Erik Klipping who was killed in Finderup Lade in 1286 (that is actually a real story). So fret not, it will all be explained in the next installment, the last book of my Rebekka Franck-series called "Nine, Ten ... Never sleep again."
If you liked the settings and the creepy parts, then you might as well enjoy the series of scary short-stories that I just have released: HORROR STORIES FROM DENMARK.. They all take place in Rebekka Franck's hometown and are related to this series. Get them below.
You can also read an excerpt from my newly released Horror Short Story: NIBBLE, NIBBLE, CRUNCH
Take care,
Willow Rose
Books by the author
Mystery/Horror Novels:
One, Two ... He is coming for you (Rebekka Frank #1)
http://www.amazon.com/One, two ...
Three, Four ... Better lock your door (Rebekka Frank #2)
http://www.amazon.com/Three, Four ...
Five, Six ... Grab your Crucifix (Rebekka Frank #3)
http://www.amazon.com/Five, Six ...
Seven, Eight ... Gonna stay up late (Rebekka Frank #4)
http://www.amazon.com/Seven, eight ...
Edwina
http://www.amazon.com/Edwina
Horror Short stories:
Eenie, Meenie - http://www.amazon.com/Eenie, Meenie
Rock-A-Bye Baby- http://www.amazon.com/Rock-a-bye
Nibble, Nibble, Crunch - http://www.amazon.com/Nibble, Crunch
Humpty, Dumpty - http://www.amazon.com/Humpty, Dumpty
Chain Letter - http://www.amazon.com/Chain Letter
Paranormal Romance/Suspense/Fantasy Novels:
BEYOND (Afterlife #1) - http://www.amazon.com/Beyond
SERENITY (Afterlife #2) - http://www.amazon.com/Serenity
ENDURANCE (Afterlife #3) - http://www.amazon.com/Endurance
COURAGEOUS (Afterlife #4) - http://www.amazon.com/Courageous
SAVAGE (Daughters of the Jaguar #1) - http://www.amazon.com/Savage
BROKEN (Daughters of the Jaguar #2) - http://www.amazon.com/Broken
A GYPSY SONG (The Wolfboy Chronicles) - http://www.amazon.com/A Gypsy song
I am WOLF (The Wolfboy Chronicles) - http://www.amazon.com/I am WOLF
Box Sets:
Rebekka Franck Series - http://www.amazon.com/Rebekka Franck
Daughters of the Jaguar - http://www.amazon.com/Daughtersof the Jaguar
The Afterlife Series - http://www.amazon.com/Afterlife
Horror Stories from Denmark - http://www.amazon.com/Horror Stories
THE WOLFBOY CHRONICLES - http://www.amazon.com/THE WOLFBOY CHRONICLES
About the Author
Willow Rose is an international Best-selling author. She writes mystery/Horror, Paranormal Romance and fantasy. Originally from Denmark she now lives on Florida’s Space Coast with her husband and two daughters. She is a huge fan of Stephen King, Anne Rice and Isabel Allende. When she is not writing or reading she enjoys watching the dolphins play in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. Her books have been downloaded in more than 150.000 copies.
Connect with Willow online:
http://www.willow-rose.blogspot.com/
www.facebook.com/willowredrose
https://twitter.com/madamwillowrose
The following is an excerpt from Willow Rose's newly released Horror Short Story NIBBLE, NIBBLE, CRUNCH that takes place in Rebekka Franck's hometown Karrebaeksminde. Denmark.
Nibble, Nibble,
Crunch
Willow Rose
1
"Could you please just get out of my way?" Agnete said with irritation to her voice. Her six–year-old daughter Emma did as she was told and got up from the couch so Agnete could vacuum where she had been sitting and watching her favorite show on TV. The Powerpuff Girls whined from the flat screen on the wall and Emma stared at it as if paralyzed. Agnete sighed. Sometimes her daughter reminded her so much of a teenager already.
"Can I have some chocolate milk?" Emma asked without her eyes leaving the screen.
Agnete shook her head. "Not now. You know Mommy's busy. I have this entire house to clean before the guests arrive.
Emma turned her head and stared at her with big eyes. "Please?"
"No. Emma. It's only ten o'clock. It's too early for chocolate milk." Agnete lifted the pillows and vacuumed underneath them. Cheerios and crumbs. It was only two days since their cleaning lady Michelle had been there, still the house looked terrible. Agnete regretted not calling her to come again today, but she thought she could fix the place up herself, like she normally did before her girlfriends arrived, but the last couple of days hadn't quite turned out the way she wanted them to. The teachers in the entire country were on strike due to some disagreement about their salary and how many hours they were supposed to work a week. Agnete didn't care much about the details in the conflict; she only knew it meant her daughter had to be home instead of in school. And it meant she had to be home today of all days when Agnete held her yearly lunch for her girlfriends from the boarding school.
It wasn't very often they could meet since most of them no l
onger lived in Denmark anymore and if they did, they travelled most of the year with their busy careers. Yes, they had all made it very well for themselves; they all had big careers and played a big role in the corporate life of Denmark. Agnete was the only of them who had also married and had a child still while maintaining her career as head of her own PR company. (She was her unique in the group, but it also made it even harder for her to maintain the façade of the perfect life.) Yes, her marriage suffered due to her many work hours, and so did her husband because she was the one pulling home the money. She made it possible for them to buy this small mansion just outside of Karrebaeksminde, close to the forest and with view over the ocean, Smaalandsfarvandet to the other side.
Agnete paused for a second and enjoyed the beauty from her windows feeling good about herself and her life’s accomplishments. Meanwhile Emma was still pleading for the chocolate milk. Agnete looked at her and sighed deeply. She had chubby cheeks and a very round face with small eyes that were staring up at her mother. Agnete bit her lip. Emma's recent weight gain irritated her. It was a constant reminder that she wasn't a perfect mother that she had somehow failed. Now that her girlfriends were about to arrive Agnete felt an urge to hide her away. She really didn't need them to see her chubby and imperfect daughter. The absent husband who was probably cheating (not that Agnete cared) she could hide from her friends. She could tell them they were doing wonderful, she could tell them that they were going to the Maldives this spring and they were as happy as ever and no one would question it. Well maybe they would, but they would never say it out loud. They weren't that kind of friends; it wasn't that kind of lunch.
"Pleeease Mom?"
"No!" Agnete said firmly. She decided it was time to get a handle on this problem and not ignore it anymore. Her daughter was eating too much unhealthy food and Agnete needed to stop it. If she didn't, then this would continue the rest of their lives and be a constant reminder of how Agnete’s failures. Agnete had always been slim and at forty-three she was still well-fit thanks to daily visits to the gym during her lunch break. Emma was old enough to learn self-discipline. It was all about controlling herself, restraining herself and not giving in to what the body wanted. Agnete had learned it at a young age as well. If you want to stay beautiful and have the world admire you, then you have to work for it and if something isn't perfect, then you make it perfect.
Everything can be changed and molded. That was what Agnete's own mother had taught her and that was what she was going to teach her daughter beginning today. So what if she went to bed hungry, so what if Agnete hadn't eaten lunch the last three years, so what if she had to pull yourself through hours and hours of spin-classes and suffer from dizziness and nagging hunger. It was all worth it in the end. Why? Because she was admired, because people looked at her and asked: "How do you do it?" That's when she smiled casually and answered with a shrug, pretending it took no effort at all.
"Please Mom? Just one cup?" Emma said again touching her mother's arm.
Agnete turned her head and looked at her daughter feeling a slight repulsion with her small chubby hands. "No!" she said with a loud voice. Emma's eyes filled with tears and she pulled back.
"Now go to your room and stay there."
With a small whimper Emma obeyed and walked up the stairs. Agnete shook her head and rolled the vacuum cleaner back into the closet where she put it neatly back to its place. She paused and gazed inside the closet to make sure everything looked perfect in there as well in case any of the guests would open it by a mistake, thinking it was the door to the bathroom. She closed the door with a sigh. She scanned the house quickly to double check everything was in place and ready for the guests. The clock on the wall said ten fifteen. She still had an hour before the caterers arrived with the food. Now all she had to do was to make sure Emma stayed in her room and didn't make another mess.
Agnete poured herself a cup of coffee and closed her eyes while drinking it. She rolled her shoulders to loosen them up. Oh she had been so tense lately. Those stupid teachers and their strike. It was all their fault. They caused this stress. She’d been forced to take Emma with her everywhere she went the last couple of days. To think that Agnete had to bring her with her to work was horrendous. It had been hard to focus in the meetings with her sitting in the corner drawing with those fat little fingers of hers, constantly reminding Agnete that she was there, on display for everybody to see her imperfection. It felt like a breach, a fracture in Agnete's character. She didn't want all her employees and her business associates to stare at her fat little face and know that thing had come out of Agnete's lean and tall body. It was simply too humiliating. And now? Now she had to show her to her girlfriends from the boarding school, just because of those ... those stupid, lazy teachers. When Agnete planned the event, she deliberately picked a weekday so both Emma and her husband would be out of the house. But now this ... this infamous strike and Agnete had no way of getting rid of the little fatling. She had even tried to get her nanny to come and take her somewhere, but she had classes (she was trying to finally finish high school that she had dropped out of five years ago - yeah like that was ever gonna happen!). Of course the teachers at the adult learning centers weren't on strike. Only those taking care of kids. Why anyone should strike was beyond Agnete’s comprehension. Those good-for-nothing-lazy teachers should be glad they even had a job with their attitude and this economy. Now no one could even tell when this thing, this awful strike was going to be over. When this nightmare was to end.
Agnete shook her head again and opened her eyes slowly. She drank from her cup and almost choked as she looked out the kitchen window views towards the forest. She coughed and put the cup down. Could it be? Were the gods not done mocking her? She stepped closer to the window and looked up at the heavy grey sky above. Thick white snowflakes were dropping and landing on the new tiles and the perfectly sculptured waterfall with pots of Japanese cold-climate bonsai trees in the backyard, and they didn't melt as they touched the ground. Agnete knew what that meant. It meant the roads would soon be white and slippery and the traffic in Denmark would stop as it always happened. It also meant her guests would probably be late and maybe ... just maybe, so would the caterers. But worst of all; it also meant she wasn't going to be able to show her girlfriends the new garden that her landscaper had prepared just for this event. With the speed those snowflakes were descending it would be completely covered within the next hour, making one of Agnete's favorite songs by Prince Sometimes it snows in April literally true.
"Damn this stupid country and its long winters," she said out loud, stomping her foot onto the very clean hardwood floors.
2
Emma peeked out of the window in her room. "It's snowing!" she shrieked. She jumped down from her bed. "I wanna go play in the snow," she sang while pulling out her snowsuit from a shelf in her closet where her mother had put it after washing it, thinking there would be no use of it anymore this season.
"Winter is over," her mother exclaimed with satisfaction while Emma hoped in her quiet mind that she wasn't right. Emma loved snow. She simply loooved playing in the snow. There was nothing better than rolling around on the ground, making snow angels and throwing snowballs. And uh ... oh ... the best part, making snowmen ... and of course snowwomen.
Emma started putting on her suit while thinking about all the fun she was going to have in the newly fallen white snow. Her mother didn't care much for it though; it was too messy for her taste. She didn't mind looking at it from inside, stating it looked pretty and all, but jumping around in it, throwing it in the air, getting sweaty and warm inside your suit while throwing snowballs at each other and building an igloo, wasn't for her. That was for Emma and her dad. Oh how Emma suddenly wished her dad would come home early today and they would get to play together. He hadn't been home much lately and Emma missed him. Especially on the long, boring days she spent with her mother while school was closed due to the teachers stretching themselves or something. Emma knew she
probably never would understand why her school was closed, but it left her sad since she loved going to school. Not so much because she loved the school, but she loved being away from her mother all day. She enjoyed not having to listen to the small hints and constant comments about her size and weight and not seeing the disapproving look in her mother's eyes every time she ate something. Even if the other kids in school from time to time mocked her for her size, she still preferred that over her mother. Their disapproval wasn't as bad as her mother’s. It didn't hurt as bad.
Emma pulled the suit over her shoulders and pulled the zipper to close it. Then she found her gloves in the drawer and put them on. With a huge smile, she ran down the stairs.
"Mom! Mom! It's snowing," she screamed while almost tripping over her own feet. She ran to the kitchen where she found her mother staring with an empty look through the window. (If Agnete knew it wasn't going to leave a finger print on the glass, she would have touched it in despair.) Emma paused when she saw the look in her mother's eyes while she stared at the falling snowflakes and the yard that was already almost covered.
"Can I go out and play? Can I Mommy? Can I?"
Her mother didn't answer. Emma pulled her skirt. That usually did the trick when she wanted her attention. It would annoy the mother and make her look at Emma with those angry eyes, so she only did it when it was important. This was very, very important, urgent even.
Her mother turned her head and looked at Emma. "What have I told you about pulling my skirt?"
"To not do it?"
Her mother looked at Emma's hand still holding the fabric, a look as if the fabric was made from pure gold. As her mother's eyes fell on Emma's hand, she let go and bowed her head.