by K. C. Hilton
Maybe he went down to the garden. I hurried into the hallway and listened for sounds coming from anywhere in the house. Nothing. No light shone from the kitchen, there was no tinkling of silverware or whispers of chatter. Nothing.
I scurried down the Hall of Horrors. I wish they wouldn’t stare at me. Not now. What could be more horrible than this? Being frozen in space, unable to help Henry while he was ripped from my life? Or being completely free to search for my son, and not able to find him? Two horrors that were completely different, yet somehow the same.
I threw open the cellar door and ran down the steps to the garden. Maybe he was under the bridge looking at the fish. But then…what if he'd fallen in? Maybe he… I raced over and stooped to look through the clear water, straight to the bottom. No. Not there.
I raced through the archway out into the valley. I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled across the valley, “Luke! Luke! Where are you?”
What if he’d climbed in the back of a wagon and rode off with the milk deliveryman, or what if he'd wandered out to the road and been picked up by a stranger? He could be hauled off anywhere in the land or what if Gretta… I shook my head. No! I wouldn’t let myself go there yet. There was still hope.
I headed back to the house. What could I do? There had to be a way to bargain with her. What would she want in exchange for Luke’s safety? She could have it all. I climbed the stairs and stepped into the hallway. Wait. What was that?
I inclined my head toward the kitchen. Laughter? I listened closer as my feet began to move in that direction. The sounds of a child laughing floated through the air. My heart sang with hope.
I stepped up to the kitchen doorway and peeked through the entrance. I gasped at the sight of Gretta helping Luke drop clumps of some kind of hairy herb by the fistful into a stockpot of some kind of brew.
I let my eyes drink in the sight of my boy laughing.
Gretta leaned her wrinkled and gnarly face close to Luke’s and planted a kiss upon his cheek. Could it be? Did Gretta mean him no harm? Did she love him?
***
The castle walls shook as the heavy wooden door slammed behind Luke.
He dropped his carved wooden horse and toy wagon beside the door and then stomped up the stairs, caked dirt flying in every direction.
I leaned back against the railing to allow him to pass. But one look at his face, and I couldn't let it go. I reached out a hand and lightly grasped his forearm. “Lu? What's wrong, honey?”
The little boy raised his face and looked into my eyes. His own eyes brimming with tears that were already streaming white tracks through the dirt on his face. “Who are we? Why are we so weird? No one lives in a castle like this.” He gestured with his arms and looked from the floor to the four-story foyer ceiling. “Why can't we be normal?”
I put my hands on his shoulders and pulled my boy close. I squeezed as hard as I dared. I wished I had an answer for that. Oh, how I wished I could explain it away. Make it different. Make us the same. What would I say to him? He'd never asked before. Maybe I could deflect his question, at least for now.
“What brings this up now? You've always liked living here. What nine-year-old boy wouldn't want to live in a castle?” There. Maybe that would be enough to take his mind off of everything.
“Yeah, mama. A castle is fun for exploring and making up stories. But to live in? It's strange.”
I tugged on his arm and led him behind me down the stairs. I dropped to my knees on the ceramic floor, and held both of his hands. I looked into his eyes. “Who told you it's strange, Luke?”
He wouldn't look at me. He scrunched his eyes closed. “No one.”
The first rule of being a mother was to never believe it when children said that. “Someone said something, sweetie. You can tell me.”
“It was just…just the dumb boys at the schoolhouse. They said you were a witch, or a ghost, or something.”
I knew I never should have sent him for schooling. All I had wanted was for him to be a normal boy, but what now? I rubbed my face with my fingertips, trying to ease the stress. What could I say that would make him understand, and give him an answer for the boys at school?
“Well, this castle has been in our family for generations. Maybe they're just jealous they don't have a castle to live in.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Luke shrugged. “It's just…” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
“No, you don't. You tell me what you were going to say. I'm right here before you, so there's no better opportunity to get your thoughts out.” I pulled him over to the settee in the den.
“Well, some of the kids say that you must have something wrong with you, because you don't come out of the house ever. None of the other mamas and papas know you. You've never even met my teacher. No matter how you look at it, that's strange. Especially since it's not like you're off working at some farm or caring for someone who’s dying.”
He let the words tumble from his mouth. One after the other. Words he’d probably been storing for some time as he took note of the work his friends’ parents did. I would not cry. No matter what. This wasn’t Luke’s fault.
“Is there something wrong with you?”
***
As it always did when he came bursting in, the castle walls shook as the door slammed behind Luke.
“Hey? Mother? Can I use the wagon? I have a date.”
I slumped to the floor of the bathroom. Maybe he wouldn't find me in there. How long could I hold this poor boy off? He had a life. He wanted to date and marry and be a father. How would I convince him that we needed to keep private just a little while longer? And how long would possibly be long enough?
Had Gretta been right all those many years ago when she said bringing Luke into this house as my child would be a huge mistake? Then again, even if she had been right, it didn't matter. Luke was my son. Come what may.
“Mother? Where are you?” Boots clumped on the stairs outside the bathroom door. Gretta would soon hear him and poke her head out of her bedroom if I didn’t respond.
I rose to my feet and placed my hand on the doorknob. Just a few more seconds. I could tell him that dating wasn’t allowed. That was always a possibility. But what had he done to deserve a no from me? I didn't want my insecurities and my personal needs to make him feel badly about himself. That would be unacceptable.
The bathroom door creaked as I pulled it open. I placed a timid foot into the hallway outside the door.
“Oh, there you are. I've been looking all over for you.” Luke reached out his beefy arms and pulled me in for a hug. When had he become a man?
“We need to put some meat on your bones, Mama.” His eyes twinkled as they did whenever he said that. It had to be strange for his mother to look like his classmates.
“What's this I hear about a date?” I tried to hide the tremble from my voice.
“Oh, you are going to love this girl. She's from town, of course. I met her when I was at the market. She's beautiful, looks a lot like you, actually.” He gazed through the window, his eyes giving away his longing. Freedom. He was desperate for it.
“Well, she might look like me, but what would she think of me? “I shook my head and raised my palms. “What are we to do? I want you to have a normal life, Luke, but I don't know how to make this work.” Tell me. Have an answer.
“Mama, it's simple. I go out on a date. I go to Anastasia’s house, and I take her to dinner. That's it. There's nothing more difficult to it.” He shrugged. To him it really did seem that simple.
“What about tomorrow?” I rubbed my temples. A headache was on its way.
“Tomorrow? Well that's a long way away. Girls usually like to have the first date before they make plans for the second. But I'll let her know you approve of a second date.” He winked one of those green eyes that had managed to get yes after yes from me for the past twenty years.
“That's not what I meant, and you know it.” He didn't get it. He just didn't get it.
“Well, let's not borrow trouble. Can we make that deal?”
I nodded against my better judgment. But how could I drive the point home without making him feel responsible for me? He wasn't, and I wouldn’t have him feel that way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Oh, great. They had arrived. If only Luke knew what he was doing. If only he knew the risk he was bringing onto this household. But how could I convey it to him? I didn't want to ruin his life, too.
I laid down my knitting and crossed the room to the window. No sign of anything out of the ordinary outside. No dragon. At least he wasn't angered by Anastasia’s presence in the castle. I went to my bedroom door and slowly opened it. If only I could delay this meeting. Deep breath. Here goes.
I pasted a smile on my face and went down the stairs, happily. Or so it seemed. “Well, who is this lovely lady?” I moved toward Luke and Anastasia with a grin and an outstretched arm.
“May I present to you, Anastasia Chesterton. Anastasia, my mother.” Luke stepped back with a grin, obviously positive that his mother and his girlfriend would fall in love.
How to handle this?
“It's wonderful to meet you, Anastasia. Your hair is such a beautiful shade of red. I don't think I've seen anything like it before.” Ugh. I could have hit myself over the head for drawing attention to her hair. Why did I go right to hair?
“Why, thank you. But I've got nothing on your hair. Look at those luxurious waves. So long and beautiful.”
There it was. She was inspecting the length of my hair. My braid. Oh. And now she searched my face. Probably for wrinkles.
“Luke, you never told me your mother was so beautiful and so young-looking.”
Luke’s eyes twinkled with pride. He looked into my eyes.
I shook my head and sighed.
A shadow came over Luke’s face. He must have realized the problem. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head as if to tell me not to worry, but he had no idea. People were capable of so many things. Things he had never imagined. Things I had seen over and over.
“Well, step in. There's no reason to stand in the doorway. Luke, why don't you offer your guest a beverage while I take her coat?” I lifted the mink stole from her shoulders.
“Great idea, mother. Anna, what would you like to drink? Something hot or something cold?”
Why was Luke being so formal? Was he nervous? Good.
Anastasia shrugged and waved her hand. “Oh, don't you worry about me. I'll have what you're having, or nothing. It's all the same to me.”
“So, how long have you two been seeing each other?” Please, say not long.
Anastasia narrowed her gaze at Luke. “That's actually a bit of a touchy spot for us. Tell her, Luke.”
Dread sank to the bottom of my stomach like an anchor in the ocean. This was not going to be good.
Luke cleared his throat and ushered us to the dining room. He held a chair for Anastasia then sat beside her. He folded his hands on top of the table and looked into her eyes. He was begging for something. She was making him do something? Something he didn’t want to do. I twisted my handkerchief in my hands.
Anastasia gave one swift nod. She pulled her hand out from under Luke's. “Go on, tell her.”
Luke took a deep breath and then exhaled in a whoosh. “Well, Mother, Anna and I have been seeing each other for a bit of time now.”
Somehow I'd known that’s where we were headed. “Oh? How long?” Act casual.
“Oh, almost four months.”
“Four months? Four months. You’re serious?” I sat on my hands to keep them from shaking, or at least to keep Anna from noticing they trembled. I fought the anger rising from my belly. Why hadn't he told me? I hadn't raised my son to be a liar.
“Mother, don't overreact. We wanted to keep things private for a while.”
Wanted to keep things private for a while? How convenient for them. So much for my privacy. “I don't know what you want me to say. I'm stunned.”
“I told you Luke. You should have told her sooner. Now she'll need some time to adjust before…”
Before what? What was she talking about? Why did I feel like this news would be even worse then the rest?
Anastasia grasped Luke’s hand possessively. She had confidence. This was not a new relationship. “Well, I will tell you what Luke is afraid to tell you. Though I don't understand why. Yet, it does give me pause about the place I'll have in his life if he's too afraid to tell you we’re getting married.”
***
Judging by the cluttering and clamoring of pots and pans, I expected Gretta to be hard at work stirring her brew. Whatever it was. Hopefully she had started some dinner in the process. I turned the corner to enter the kitchen.
I stopped short. Coffee sloshed over the edge of my cup and dripped between my fingers to the floor.
Anastasia.
In my kitchen.
Wearing my apron.
Or was it her kitchen now? Did she think she was Lady of the Manor now that she had married my son? She would have to be put in her place. Little did she know, she would never be boss here. I would have to die first, and that wasn't going to happen.
“Oh? What are you doing?” I added just enough lilt to my voice to be civil, but not enough to be heard with a smile.
Anastasia pasted a grin on her face. “I felt it was high time I started some meal planning and cooking for the household. At least until I have time to hire a chef.” Anastasia turned her back. Surely she knew what my expression would be.
“There will be no chef. And I do the meal planning for my household. Me or Gretta.” I run my own household, thank you very much. I dare you to defy me. I crossed my arms on my chest. Then again, what was I going to do? She'd been my son's wife for six months already. She wasn't going anywhere.
“I've been meaning to talk to you about Gretta. Why do you keep that old woman around? She's useless. She's too old to be of any value to the running of this castle.” Anastasia turned around and leveled her gaze with mine. “I think it's time this castle was run properly. A chef, a maid…and a nanny.”
A nanny? I stumbled backwards and sat on a kitchen stool. “A nanny? Does that mean? Are you…?” Act thrilled. If I responded poorly to this news, I would lose them all. But there was something about her—about Anastasia—I just didn't trust her.
“So the doctor says.” Anastasia crossed the room and placed a hand on each of my shoulders. “I'm really sorry your son didn't tell you. In case you haven't realized, he's kind of afraid of you. He's always so worried about what you will say and do. He tries to keep secrets from you, because he doesn't want to upset you.”
“I'm going to be a grandmother? I can't believe it.” I sat stunned. What if all that were true? What if Luke were afraid of me? What if my presence around them was stifling? I never wanted to ruin their lives. Maybe it was time to give up, at least for a while. When the time came I could take my rightful place back.
I stood to my feet and squared my shoulders. “Okay. You're going to be a mother. It's true, you need to run your own household. I will step back.” It’s what I would have wanted with my Henry.
Anastasia's eyes lit up then narrowed just as fast. “What have you got up your sleeve? What do you really mean?”
Only a deceitful person would assume deceit. “I'm not like you, Anastasia. I mean what I say. I will step back and spend most of my time in the tower or the gardens. I will let you and your family be. Hire whomever you wish. Run this household however you wish.”
The corners of her mouth turned up. She had won and she knew it. Anastasia offered one swift nod and then returned to her cooking. “Will you be joining us for dinner each evening or would you like it brought to you?”
On second thought. “Actually, I have three conditions for my offer.”
Anastasia whipped around. Skepticism lined her face. She placed her hand on her hips and cocked her head. “What conditions?”
“Number one, you never speak o
f me. Not to your family not to your friends or people in town. I don't exist. Do you understand?”
Anastasia nodded. “Easy one.”
“Number two, you leave Gretta alone. She can cook our meals when she likes, or have a meal brought to her room if she prefers. She will not dine with your family, but you will provide for her. She will never be banished from this house. Is that understood?” Part of me wanted to let Anastasia have her way with Gretta, but I just couldn't be sure what Gretta would do. I couldn't take that chance.
Anastasia sighed. “At least we won't be stuck with her for long.”
That's what you think. “Number three, you speak well of me to my grandchild and give me open access to spend time and play with the baby.”
“Open access? No. Reasonable prearranged access, sure.” She crossed her arms in finality and waited for my response.
Probably the best I could get. At least I would have Luke to defend me if needed. Not that I would bother him…not if he felt the way Anastasia said he did.
“Okay. It's yours.” I gestured to the kitchen and the rooms beyond…and left. I began a lonely trek up to the tower. Was I doing the right thing?
Gretta appeared in the doorway at the first landing. She'd heard everything, judging by the glare on her face. She shook her head. “You have no idea what you have done. You will be sorry.”
***
“Your mother! She's a witch!” I could just imagine Anastasia's eyes, wild with fear. “And that old woman? She is, too.” Footsteps sounded like the pacing of a lion in a den. “We can't live here with them. They can't live here. Better yet…they won't leave.” Anastasia sounded frantic. If only I could see her through the air vent.
What could have happened? I’d turned over my house to her nearly a month ago. Nothing had gone wrong—that I knew of. What did she know and how did she find out?
I looked at Gretta, my sudden ally. What would she do? I shook my head. “Don't you do anything to them, Gretta. If this is to be the beginning of our demise, so be it.”
Gretta stared evenly. She didn't flinch.
“I mean it…” Wait. Luke was talking. I pressed my ear closer to the vent so I could hear his words.