by Amber Kizer
I nodded. Me too. “Oh my God, Tens, that’s it!” All at once, I knew what Juliet needed to remember. I grabbed Auntie’s journal to confirm my suspicions.
Was there ever a more beautiful baby?
—R.
CHAPTER 36
Juliet
“Nicole?” I called into the attic. I felt someone watching me, that itchy, uncomfortable feeling that I couldn’t shake.
“Juliet?” Nicole’s voice made me jump and turn around. She wasn’t in the attic at all.
“I thought you were up there?” I asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Let’s go in here.” She motioned and we ducked into the Green Room.
I saw Enid’s head go slack and her breathing even out. I’d watched enough kids try to fake sleep to know what she was doing. “It’s okay, it’s just us,” I said to her.
Her blue eyes twinkled as she cracked them, then sat up. “That terrible woman gave me more pills.”
I held out my hand and she handed them to me. I glanced at them. I’d lived here long enough to know pills by the shape, the print, the color. “This one isn’t for sleeping, it’s for cholesterol.” I picked up one and held it back out to her.
“No pills. What’s the worst-case scenario?” She smiled sadly, resigned.
I respected her acceptance and took the pill back. “Then just cheek them and one of us will come flush them later.”
She nodded. This room seemed so large with only one bed in it.
“What do you need?” Nicole crossed her arms and craned her neck up at me. For the first time I realized how tall I was compared to her.
“I’m really hungry,” I said, hoping that Nicole would understand me.
“Oh.” Nicole’s eyes widened and she began to shake her head. “But Mistress and—”
“I have to.” The drive to make eggnog, quiche lorraine, and a chocolate pots de créme was overwhelming. So much so that I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Glee’s favorite foods were clamoring for attention.
“You know girls, I haven’t been hungry in ages, but what I wouldn’t give for my sister’s secret-recipe eggnog. Oh, and her quiche lorraine was the best in the world. She never would tell me what she put in that eggnog, though.”
“Bailey’s,” I answered without thinking.
“What, dear?” Enid perked up.
“Bailey’s Irish Cream. In the eggnog. That was the secret part.” I bit my lip. How did I explain the inexplicable?
“I won’t ask how you know that because I can see the truth in your eyes.”
Nicole reached out and touched my arm. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“Really?”
“With my life. You’re scaring me.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“What?” I asked, as we heard the familiar chug of the kid transport van turn into the drive. “Is it one of Ms. Asura’s days to visit?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Nicole joined me at the window. Outside black clouds rolled along the horizon, breaking like whitecaps in the stormy sky. “Are we supposed to get a storm?”
“Maybe—” I started to answer her.
“Juliet, is it time?” Bodie ran into the room and threw himself at me, latching onto my waist with his tiny but manacle-strong arms.
“Time?”
“Is it your birthday? Is she here to take you away?”
“No, honey. I don’t think so. Not yet.” I didn’t know.
“What’s this? Take you where?” Enid piped up. “Why is the little boy so upset?”
“Who’s in the car with her?” I leaned against the window and peered down into the van below. “It’s Kirian!” My heart raced and my feet followed.
“You won’t leave?” Bodie gasped sobs, grabbing my leg.
“Bodie, let go of me. I have to go downstairs,” I snapped at him.
“But—”
I peeled him off and thrust him at Nicole.
Mistress bellowed up the stairs, but I was already halfway down the back ones. I skidded out of the kitchen, into the foyer.
“There you are.” Mistress glared. “Where’s Nicole?”
“Right here.” She came down the stairs with the blank, serene face I’d learned hid numerous talents.
Ms. Asura poked her head around the front door. “Girls, girls, how are you?”
“We need to talk,” Mistress snapped at Ms. Asura. She didn’t pretend to be nice, which surprised me. I thought they were best girlfriends.
“Yes, we do. Juliet, begin to pack your things, please. Your birthday is right around the corner.”
“She’s not sixteen yet,” Mistress barked.
“We’ll see.” Ms. Asura smiled in a way that completely dismissed Mistress. “Be lovely and bring up coffee to the office?” She asked like she owned the place. I saw Mistress narrow her eyes, but she said nothing as she started up the steps.
Ms. Asura pointed to the side yard and mouthed to me, Kirian.
“He’s outside in our spot,” I said to Nicole. “He has to be, he was in the car.”
“I’ll take up the coffee, but I don’t think you should—”
“Thanks!” I kissed her cheek, but didn’t wait to hear her suggest caution. Nicole didn’t trust anyone.
I closed the back door and leaned against it, wishing I had lip gloss, or a nice haircut, or pretty clothes.
“Hello, jewel in my crown.” Kirian peeked out from between the hedges. From a boy to a man, the transformation was spectacular. He stood a head taller than me, with broad shoulders and bulging biceps. His dirty-blond hair had been shaved in a tight crew cut that drew attention to the chiseled look of his jaw and the strength of his chin. A tan kissed his skin golden. A hoop dangled from one earlobe and a thumb ring glinted in the sunlight. Sunglasses covered his eyes and mirrored my own back at me.
As he wrestled through the foliage, I wondered for a minute if he’d forgotten about the poison ivy growing in there. But then his charisma shoved all thought from my head and I didn’t try to hide my smile. He’d come back to me.
“Romeo.”
He swept me up in his arms and held me tight. So tight I almost couldn’t breathe.
“I missed you, my sweet.”
“Me too.”
“You’ve grown up. Let me look at you.” He held me at arm’s length and inspected me from all angles until I felt a quiver of discomfort.
“You sound different,” I said. I struggled to see the little boy who’d been everything to me and the young man who’d taken beatings to protect me. All I saw was a man who could have walked off a movie screen.
“I’ve grown up. Traveling the world will do that to a person. Come sit with me.” He pulled me through the hedges toward the woods, where I realized he’d set up a picnic along a fallen log. A breeze ruffled my hair and reminded me it was only February. Not summer. He wrapped me in a blanket and poured hot chocolate. There were chocolate-covered strawberries and pastries.
“Marshmallows, right?” he asked, popping a couple into my mug.
I’d never liked them, but he loved them. I shrugged it off. It had been years. “I can’t really stay.” The trees around us billowed and clapped, like an audience at a play. While my hair struggled to untangle itself from my braid, not even the collar on his jacket seemed to move.
He shrugged me off. “We have time. All the time in the world.”
“But Mistress …” Maybe he didn’t remember how bad this place was. It had been three years.
His mouth thinned. “Trust me. The meeting will take a while.”
I fell silent, sipping from my porcelain cup. The hot chocolate tasted bitter. My tongue begged for eggnog instead.
“I came back for you. Only you.” He smiled, flashing perfectly white, straight teeth. I didn’t remember him having straight teeth. Hadn’t they been crooked?
“Where did y
ou go?” I asked.
“All over the world. You’ll love Paris. You got my cards, right?”
The three of them. “Yes.” I nodded.
Clearly I hadn’t shown enough enthusiasm, because Kirian put down his cup. “I had to make money for us, didn’t I?”
“You were adopted, right?” I pressed.
“No, I joined—” He broke off. “After I turned eighteen, then I traveled.”
“Where is your family?”
“They’re everywhere.”
“Would you have stayed?”
“Here? At DG? Why would I have wanted to do that?” He seemed genuinely poleaxed that I might suggest it. “Besides, no one ever stays.”
“But why do we have to leave on our sixteenth birthdays? Why not eighteen?” I pressed.
“Well … it’s an opportunity, Jewel. Trust me, you won’t have to clean another bedpan or teach a kid to use the toilet.”
“But—”
“What’s with all the questions? I had to take the deal. For you. For us. But I’m back now and we can be together.”
I fell silent. That wasn’t all he took before he left. And what deal? “Why do you still have your sunglasses on?”
“It’s bright out here.” He waved me off.
“But—”
“Jewel, get off my back.” His tone stung, but he dove into a croissant, not noticing my reaction to his words.
I clammed up. Then tried again. “How much was in your savings account?” I asked, hoping he might shed light on what was going to happen to me on my birthday.
“What?” he grumbled, his forehead creased, but I couldn’t see his eyes.
“The savings account? Ms. Asura says we get paid—” I broke off when it became clear Kirian had no idea what I was talking about.
“Oh, yeah, that,” he said, trying to brush off his evident ignorance. “Look, just do what Ms. Asura tells you to do. It’s not that hard to be what they want. And all of it I did so we can be together.”
“What are you talking about? Be what? What did you do?” I wanted to scream in frustration. I felt like we were having two different conversations. One where I asked questions and one where he answered questions I hadn’t asked.
Mini meowed and pranced out from behind a tree. She came up and wound around my back, leaning against my shins.
Kirian leaned forward. “Who is this beauty?” He started to reach a hand out as if to pet her.
Mini hissed and swiped the back of his hand with her claws. Dark blood immediately welled up in the tracks across his flesh.
“Mini!” Horrified, I swooped her up, dropping the blanket at my feet.
“What the hell? You should drown that cat.” Kirian grabbed a cloth napkin and held it to his hand.
“She’s never done anything like that before. I swear—”
“A stray? Really, Jewel, I thought you were better than that. If you want a pet, I can buy you a pet.”
“She’s—” I broke off. She’s my friend. She comforts me and loves me and keeps the dark at bay. If you’d stayed, I wouldn’t need a cat to be my family.
“Kirian?” Ms. Asura called from the front of the house. “Time to go.”
“Crap.”
I started to clean up the picnic, keeping Mini behind me, away from Kirian.
“Leave it. You’re not a servant.” Kirian stilled my hands and pulled me away from the mess. “It’s just, I love you, you waited for me, and now we can be together. Trust me. I’ll take care of everything.”
“But—”
“Kirian!” Her tone was shrill and demanding.
“I’ll come back. Trust me? We’ll be together soon.” He leaned into me, pulled my hips tight against his, flattened my breasts against his chest, and kissed me. My teeth felt too big for my mouth and in the way. This is how he always kisses you. He takes, not gives.
He bounded away. “Soon.”
I peered around the corner of the house, my fingers on my bruised lips. I watched him get into the van with Ms. Asura. They seemed to argue before driving off. I picked up the remains of the picnic and stuffed them deep into the hedge. I’d be the one beaten for the mess if Mistress found it.
Nicole met me in the kitchen. “Do you want the good news? Or the bad news?”
Take my hand, dear sister, and fill the world with your light.
Melynda Laine
December 21, 1922
CHAPTER 37
“Meridian, can’t you tell me while we wait for Tony to get here?” Tens sat on the couch with his wood chunks, whittling a hamster-sized firefly.
I shook my head, not pausing to answer him with words. It was right here. I tucked a Post-it note between the pages of Auntie’s journal.
Thunder boomed, closer this time. Lightning lit the sky, making me jump.
“Are we supposed to get a storm?” I looked at Tens.
“I’ll check.” He flipped open the laptop and peered at the screen.
I went back to reading the spidery script in the Fenestra journal. Veils. Memories. “Oh no.” Tens’s voice broke my concentration.
“What?”
“There are three big storms heading straight for Marion County. That’s us.”
The roof vibrated. It sounded like someone was dumping buckets of golf balls down on us.
Custos whined, and we got up and went to the window.
Huge ice pellets blanketed the ground in a layer of white. Suddenly, more thunder rocked the place. Lightning flashed almost instantaneously. The lights flickered.
Tens grabbed the laptop and kept reading. “There’s a tornado warning.”
“Tornadoes? What the hell do we do for a tornado?” Portland had storms, lots of wind, some ice and snow, the earthquake possibility, and tsunami warnings, but the closest I’d ever gotten to a tornado was on TV.
Headlights cut across the cottage windows and for the first time I realized how dark the world was.
“That’s Tony,” I said.
Tens grabbed a rhinestone-and-daisy umbrella from by the door and rushed out to meet him.
They came back in as rain poured in sheets from every direction, washing ice chunks along the gutters and melting them off the paths.
I grabbed towels. Thirty seconds out in the storm and they were drenched.
Dripping wet, with ice pellets frozen in his hair, Tony took a towel from me. “I came as quickly as I could. You said it was important. I haven’t heard more from Josiah.” Tony hung his tweed suit coat on the back of a chair and sat at the table. “What’s the text?”
“This is my family’s journal,” I said.
“It’s old.” He didn’t try to touch it, but I held it out to him in invitation. He took it with gingerly fingers. “I should be wearing gloves.”
“It’s not an artifact. More like a working document.”
“Still.” He unfolded reading glasses to peer more closely at the writing.
I appreciated his willingness to accept what he was told and take what was given.
“Is this about your grandfather?” Tony asked Tens.
“No,” I answered. “It’s about a girl named Prunella. But really it’s about Juliet Ambrose.”
He sat up and leaned toward me with excitement. “Juliet? You know her? How is she?”
Tens raised his eyebrows and gave me his lopsided grin of appreciation. “You figured it out.”
I nodded, my whole body vibrating with excitement.
Tens asked Tony, “What was the name of your children’s home?”
“Saint Emiliani’s. Please tell me, do you know this girl? Where is she? Is she okay? Can I see her? Have you heard from Roshana?”
Tens put the pieces together. “That’s it.” He asked Tony, “Want some whiskey in your tea for this story?”
I giggled. “Seriously?”
“Auntie said whiskey made the impossible possible.” Tens shrugged.
Tony slapped his thigh. “No spirits, just tell me what you know. If you had any
idea how I’ve looked for her, you wouldn’t keep me waiting.”
I began to tell Tony what we knew about Juliet.
Tens made tea, and while the storm raged around us I told the story, leaving nothing out. It wasn’t much.
“Prunella was my great-aunt Meridian’s cousin. She was a nurse too. She wasn’t a Fenestra but knew about my auntie’s ability because she nearly died in 1943. She made it to the window and then turned back. Her heart restarted and she went on to live another forty years. However, because she knew too much and might endanger her family, a Sangre angel came to her and veiled her history. He took away her connections and started her over in another part of the world. He warned that if she ever saw Auntie again, she’d remember everything about her life.”
“You think Juliet doesn’t remember her mother or me? Or her first few years of life, because she was in danger?”
“That’s exactly what I believe. And I think you are the key to unlocking her memories. It’s the only way to get her to know.”
“But what if she does know and she thinks we let her live in that hell without helping? I couldn’t live with myself.”
“I don’t know. We came as soon as we were told—I hope that counts for something.” I shrugged. I didn’t know if she could forgive and move forward, but it was our best shot.
“Let’s go to her. Now.” Tony stood and started for the door. “We need to find her and tell her. I can’t bear thinking she might have it all wrong.”
I stayed seated. “I know.” We had to plan carefully. We had to understand how to lift the veil. We couldn’t risk making everything worse.
Tony paced. “Her mother loved her. She died protecting her.”
I nodded as Joi burst through the cottage door and storm sirens began to vibrate the town around us. “Come on, all, we have to get into the storm cellar. There’s a twister five miles away that’s headed for us.”
I grabbed the journal and the quilt. Tens grabbed the laptop and me.
As we ran to the store’s cellar, wind tore at us and branches flew by. I heard glass cracking as parked cars took a beating from the elements. The sky was a swirling mass of grays and greens and blacks. We zigzagged around branches and airborne lawn ornaments.