Stag: A Masquerade Ball Romance

by Angela Blake

  Rachel did a mental hop, skip and jump, already mapping out a business plan and trying to think when a good time would be for him to visit the shop.

  “Well first things first, you must come around and taste our coffee.”

  Brendan nodded, “That seems wise,” he said solemnly, “would tomorrow be a good time? Oh no, you’ll probably be tired from the ball and sleep in. Maybe the next day?”

  Rachel almost laughed at his comment. Sleep in? In whose house? Her mother’s? Pigs would fly first. She would be expected to be at the shop at 5am, just like always.

  ‘Damn, I really am Cinderella,’ she thought wryly to herself.

  “Well I expect you will be in need of rest after carrying that stag head around all night so yes, let’s say day after tomorrow.”

  Brendan seemed to be just as excited about the whole deal as she was, “I shall be there bright and early. What time do you open?”

  Rachel’s twinkling laughter rang with delight as she toasted to him, “Oh we are open at 6:30 a.m. so you’re welcome for breakfast.”

  He clinked his glass against hers, “I very much look forward to it Rachel Hart.”

  Rachel’s smile was wide and thrilled, “I look forward to it too.” She said.

  She drank down her mimosa feeling that her presence at this ball had been vindicated fully. Not only had she found an investor for the business, but he was also a great guy who knew how to treat a woman. It was almost too good to be true.

  Chapter Four: Brendan

  Brendan stumbled into his house, drunk on excitement. It was definitely her! Those eyes, her smell…it was the same. Yes it had been almost twenty two years since he’d seen her up close but he could never forget those melted caramel eyes.

  Despite being chased away by her mother on that fateful day, Brendan had kept as much of an eye as he could on little Rachel Hart. He hadn’t known then why he was so attached to her. But then, before his eighth birthday, he hadn’t known about the curse either. He had just figured he was drawn to her because he broke into her house drawn by her crying, and her mother didn’t seem very loving.

  Brendan didn’t understand Rachel’s mother. The benign neglect with which she had raised her daughter was an anathema to him. Rachel was such a good child; Brendan would watch as she trailed after her mother on market day, little feet scurrying to keep up. Or how she would clean the tables at the coffee shop with her tiny rag, standing on tiptoe to reach while customers cooed at her and gave her a large tip. It made him so mad, knowing that Rachel’s mother was using her for profit like that. But there was nothing he could do. He was just a kid himself.

  And then he woke up on the morning of his eighth birthday, with a stag’s horns on his head, and red gold fur all over his body. His ten toes were now stag feet and he screamed and screamed until his mother had come.

  “What’s the matter darling?” she asked as if she could not see the horns protruding out of his forehead.

  He opened his mouth, afraid for a moment that he might not be able to speak. But the words came out fine.

  “Mama! Help me.”

  “Oh baby,” she said sadly and enveloped him in a hug, “I wish I could.”

  “Mama, mama, mama,” he continued to cry, hiding his face in her bosom as if that would help.

  “I know baby, I know.”

  When his sobs had wound down to occasional hiccups he had raised his head to look up at her, “Am I gonna be a freak forever?” he asked.

  Her eyes got even sadder, “Oh Bren, look at yourself now, go on, look,” she encouraged. And Brendan saw that the fur on his body had disappeared and he had ten toes again. He lifted his hands to touch his head.

  No horns.

  Heaving a huge sigh of relief he took a moment to wonder if it was all a scary dream. But no, the look in his mother’s eyes said it was all real.

  “What’s happening to me Mama?” he asked tearfully.

  His mother pulled him close, enveloping him in her arms, “I have a story to tell you,” she began.

  “Okay ma.” He said sighing even as he leaned closer to her. He loved her stories. They were always interesting and fun and he could never predict the endings. And that would be a good way to forget about the fact that he was a…monster.

  “Once upon a time,” his mother began, “there lived a man and a woman who loved each other soo much. They had everything a couple could want, a huge house to live in, fancy clothes, good friends, great food…”

  His mother turned him in her arms so she could look him in the face.

  “But one thing was missing.”

  Brendan watched her with wide eyes, fascinated already, “What was it? What was missing?”

  His mother sighed, “The couple wanted a child. Like so so bad. But they tried and tried and tried but they could not conceive.”

  “Why not?” Brendan asked.

  His mother shrugged, “They didn’t know why. They tried everything.”

  Brendan felt bad for the couple. He remembered the time he’d wanted a Skeletor suit for his birthday but his mama had put her foot down and made him get He-man instead. He’d tried everything to get her to change her mind but she was adamant. So he could totally sympathize with the couple for not getting what they wanted.

  “So what happened?” he asked sitting up a little, his arms still around his mother’s waist.

  “So they accepted that they were never going to have children. They were sad about it but there wasn’t anything they could do.”

  “Oh,” Brendan said thinking that this was a pretty awful story so far.

  “Then one day…” his mother said in a more upbeat tone of voice, making Brendan perk up immediately, “a circus came to town.”

  “A circus?” Brendan asked in surprise. That was a plot twist he hadn’t seen coming. Were they going to get a magic baby?

  “Yes, a circus. And to cheer his wife up, the husband took her to the circus because he knew she loved it. The wife appreciated it a lot, but nothing could pierce her sadness really. But she saw that her husband was making an effort so she made an effort too.”

  “So she pretended to be happy about the circus?” Brendan asked watching her with wide eyes. His mother always said it was wrong to pretend or to lie.

  “Yes, she pretended so her husband would feel better. You understand about trying to enjoy something so that someone else can be happy?”

  Brendan nodded slowly although he really didn’t.

  “Well anyway, so they went to the circus and they visited the three headed lady, and the-”

  “Three headed lady?”Brendan interrupted in shock.

  “Yes, a three headed lady. I think it was some sort of trick but I don’t know how she managed it,” his mama said.

  “Okay and then what happened?” Brendan asked noting his mother’s change of pronouns but not saying anything.

  “Well then they went to a fortune teller and she read their palms.”

  “Oh like…uh in that program! Uh...” Brendan clicked his fingers trying to remember the program he’d watched that had a fortune teller but he couldn’t.

  “Anyways,” his mother hurried on, “the fortune teller told them something they were not expecting. That they would have a child ‘very soon’. Of course the couple was flabbergasted. They wanted to believe her, especially the wife but they figured she was just lying to them.”

  “Why did they think she was lying?”

  “I guess they were too afraid to believe it was true. They had already tried everything to get pregnant.” His mother shrugged, “then the wife said, ‘Maybe she meant we would adopt a child.’ And the husband asked her, ‘Well do you want to adopt?’ He would have done anything to make her smile like she used to.” His mother’s eyes looked so wistful and far away, Brendan just watched her pensively.

  “So they went for the main show in the Big Tent and it was wild and over the top and even the wife forgot her sad
ness for a while.”

  “I want to go to the circus!” Brendan interjected.

  “Maybe one day,” his mother replied, “Now do you want me to finish the story or not?”

  “I do,” Brendan said jumping up a bit with excitement, “Finish the story.”

  “Okay then.”

  The show had come to an end and the man and his wife walked out with all the other attendees. There was a bit of a scuffle at the entrance to the tent because of the rush of people leaving and the couple had hung back, waiting for it to clear. Suddenly there was a woman standing next to the couple, holding a bundle in her hands. She thrust it into the wife’s hands, spitting out a word and then disappearing.

  “What word did she say?” Brendan asked all wide-eyed.

  “She spat it, more than said it. It was…blestemat.”

  Brendan’s brow furrowed, “What does that mean?” he asked.

  “Well…it means…cursed.” His mother wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Does that mean the bundle was cursed?”

  Mrs. O’Brien sighed, “Well, when the couple opened the bundle they found a baby. It wasn’t an ordinary baby. This baby had little horns protruding from his skull and his whole body was covered with red gold fur.”

  Brendan gaped at her, “Was that baby…me?”

  “Yes Brendan, that baby was you. We tried to find the old lady, to tell us what she meant, why she gave you to us but we didn’t even know what she looked like because her face was completely covered by the shawl. We went back to the fortune teller to try and get some answers but she too was gone. The ringmaster couldn’t tell us much. Or wouldn’t. He said the fortune teller had joined them recently and they didn’t know where she came from. We couldn’t go to the police without you being taken away from us. We wanted to protect you so we didn’t say anything. We bought an island off the coast of Chile and made the housekeeper and groundskeepers sign NDAs in case they saw you. We kept you indoors; your father and I did everything for you. Then on your first birthday, you changed back into a boy.”

  Brendan was now staring at her, mouth open.

  “We didn’t know if it was temporary or permanent. If we could send you to a regular school or even go on a shopping trip with you. What would happen if you changed again? We needed help.”

  “What did you do mama?”

  Mrs. O’Brien sighed, “Some not very nice things I’m afraid. We did find the fortune teller again though it took a year and a half to do so. In that time, you hadn’t changed again to this form but we still were not sure if that was temporary or permanent. We asked the fortune teller and she told us what she knew.”

  Brendan sat up.

  “So is it true then? Am I cursed? Am I a monster?”

  Kaelie O’Brien held her child close looking him in the eye, “Brendan, I am going to say something and I need you to hear me. You are not a monster.”

  Brendan blinked up at his mother not sure he could believe her.

  “The fortune teller told me why I could not conceive. She said it was the manifestation of an old curse visited upon my family in Ireland. When my great grandfather immigrated to America with his wife and son, he left behind a woman. A woman he had been seeing behind his wife’s back. After promising to look after her, he left her high and dry with a small baby to feed. The woman went to a witch who placed a curse on my great grandfather. The curse stated that no woman of his family would ever conceive a child until the wrong he visited upon her was made right.”

  Kaelie bent her head with a sigh, biting back tears, “My great-grandfather had a son and his son had three sons and four daughters. All four daughters died childless. It’s been like that for every generation since. The sons might conceive but the daughters will not. I don’t know if the witch wanted it that way or she just didn’t think to include the sons in the curse. But…you see that it was my fault that we could not have children.” Kaelie choked again and Brendan put his arms around his mother consolingly.

  “How did the fortune teller know about the curse and how do I come in?”

  Kaelie shook her head, “Don’t ask me please.”

  “Mama? Please tell me.”

  “Okay baby, I will.”

  Kaelie blew her nose, looking up into her son’s eyes unflinchingly, “When the seer told us about the curse, we decided to trace your genealogy. We figured the secret to your…condition…might lie there. So we did that and we found that you and I are distantly related. So we went back to Ireland to try and trace the rest of your roots.”

  “What did you find?” Brendan asked a bit breathless with fear.

  “Well…what we found was that you, are descended from that woman my great grandfather left behind. According to the fortune teller, the curse backfired on her because she didn’t pay the witch in full. So while the females in my family cannot conceive, the males in her family are born half stag. The curse does not manifest in full until the boy reaches full maturity that is after seven years old.”

  “So I’m gonna be like this forever?”

  Kaelie sighed, “You’re a shape shifter Brendan. But you can learn to control it. And I know somebody who can help you.”

  Brendan bit his lip, thinking hard, “But what if I lift the curse?” he asked.

  “How?”

  “They said we have to make it right. Can we make it right?”

  “God honey, we tried. We tried everything. We tried to trace her family and help them. We tried giving money to charity. Nothing worked.”

  “I’m gonna find a way mama. I know it.” Brendan said jaw set.

  Kaelie ran her hand gently down his cheek, “If anyone can, it’s you my sweet boy.”

  Chapter Five: The Split Bean

  Rachel burst into the kitchen the next morning, barely on time for once. Her feet still hurt from wearing heels all night and dancing in them but other than that she was chock-full of energy and happiness.

  “I did it!” she cried to the room in general, “I got us an investor!”

  “Woo hoo,” Angela said eyes on the muffins she was arranging on the tray and face blank. It was too early in the morning for excitement but Rachel didn’t care. If she hadn’t known that Barry and Sergio rarely woke before noon she would have ran down the street to their shop to let them know as well. This was a glorious day.

  She skipped as she worked, envisioning her business plan that she would put into writing as soon as she had a minute. Possible expansion plans. Maybe adding a lunch menu…so many things she wanted to do.

  She’d googled Brendan O’Brien as soon as she got home. For one thing, she wanted to see what his real face looked like and secondly she wanted to know how much money he had. As soon as his face loaded on the page her heart jumped in her chest.

  She’d spent the night dancing with that? How had he even noticed her? His Wikipedia page said he was 6’3” and twenty nine years old. He had attended Harvard school of business and graduated summa cum laude. He had the softest looking brown-gold hair that curled lovingly over his face and pretty green eyes that literally shone like emeralds even on the low pixel photos. His smile was just as she’d imagined it beneath his mask, sincere and sweet. And he had dimples! Rachel’s hands shook with disbelief that this man had paid any attention to her. She needed to write a note to Barry and Sergio pledging her life to them after this.

  She looked up his family and found out he was the only child of Robert and Kaelie O’Brien. He’d grown up all over the place, had been homeschooled for most of his life and was currently thought to be ‘finding himself’ or whatever rich people did when they didn’t need to work. Bottom line, he truly did have money to invest since his personal net worth was longer than her phone number. She thought about telling her mother about him but she could already hear the condescending implications about sugar daddies and sleeping your way to the top even though Rachel hadn’t so much as kissed him last night…

  It would have been hard to
do what with the mask.

  And he had not offered to remove it so as to kiss her so clearly his interest was genuine.

  Still, Rachel decided to wait until it was a done deal and they needed her mother’s signature on the papers before telling her. Surely once she realized what they stood to gain, even she would not be able to find something to complain about.

  Maybe.

  ***

  Rachel busied herself with her clients, smiling widely at everyone who came, and feeling like she was dizzy with happiness.

  “Hello, what can I get y-” she began to say before looking up. She literally could not feel her face or her hands as she realized who was standing in front of her. He had looked intriguing in his black and grey tuxedo but a Henley and black jeans was what he was made for. He stood before her smiling that sincere sweet smile, dimples out in full force. Rachel’s mouth was totally dry.

  “Uk...” she said.

  “Hi. You recognize me,” he said sounding pleased.

  Rachel swallowed, reminding herself to speak, “I may or may not have googled you.”

  Brendan threw his head back and laughed delightedly.

  The woman behind him cleared her throat loudly and Rachel remembered where she was.

  “Uuuuh, what can I uh, get you?” she asked Brendan.

  “Well, I put myself in your hands, whatever you think I might enjoy.”

  “Oh. Okay,” Rachel said doing her best not to sound breathless, “Well why don’t you uh, have a seat? And I will bring you something.”

  Brendan gave that pleased smile again, “Excellent. I can’t wait.”

  Rachel opened her mouth to protest his enthusiasm. To say that it was only coffee but then changed her mind mid thought. There was no need for Brendan to know how freaked out she was.

  “Cool,” she said softly, “Just uh, have a seat and I’ll be right with you.”

  Brendan nodded and left the line, choosing a seat near the windows and picking up one of the books that lined the wall on a low shelf. He leaned back, one ankle over his knee and opened it, seemingly absorbed. The very picture of relaxed nonchalance. Rachel stared at him for a bit before the woman behind him in line began to clear her throat again loudly. She took her order and then retreated to make her half caf decaf vanilla latte all the while thinking furiously about what she could possibly serve Brendan that would absolutely blow his mind.