by Belle Malory
“We can mark some things off your bucket list,” Rex continued. “The Louvre, the Musée d'Orsay. Maybe a few things that weren’t on your list.”
“I can’t believe you planned all of this.” The thought of being in Paris over the next four days, roaming the art museums, visiting the cafés…and Rex would be right there with me. I felt a tug at my heart. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect way to spend my time. “You’re amazing,” I breathed.
He smiled happily.
“But,” I added. “You could have done it without pretending to leave.”
He grinned, devilishly. “And miss a goodbye like that? I wouldn’t dream of it. Hey-- ow!”
I punched Rex on his chest, several times over until he clamped his arms over mine, subduing me.
“You’re a jackass,” I told him seriously. Part of me wanted to be angry enough to mean it. The other part of me was too thrilled at the thought of spending the next four days in Paris with the man who held my heart.
“But you love me,” he pointed out.
“True,” I conceded. I was too excited to pretend to be angry anymore.
Rex released me from his hold, but kept a hand held firmly within his. “Let’s go see Paris, babe.”
I picked up my pace, almost running out of the airport with him. We were like two kids in a playground, full of enthusiasm and wonder. The jaded demeanor Rex was often accompanied with was surprisingly absent. I stared at him in awe, realizing the guy I first met in California wasn’t the same person who held my hand today. Even I would’ve been the last person who could’ve ever foretold such a remarkable change to happen.
Thirty-Nine
Four months later…
A light rapping on the door distracted my attention from my computer. Abby and I simultaneously looked up to see Indie slinking inside my room. She gave me a small smile, joining me on the window seat. I removed my laptop from my thighs, setting it aside.
My little Labrador puppy had grown into a large beast, though Abby, herself, didn’t yet realize it. She was fifty-five pounds now, but settled into Indie’s arms like a lapdog.
“No glamorous plans?” I asked curiously.
She shook her head. “I think tonight should be a family night.”
I nodded in agreement. We both knew today’s date was a symbolic one, yet neither of us acknowledged its meaning out loud. Some things were better left unsaid, I guess…
“So whatcha doing?” Indie asked me curiously.
Her face was makeup free. Her dark hair left down, resting along her shoulders in loose curls. She looked her age for once, much more innocent than the starlet America knew and loved.
“I’m writing a blog post,” I answered, showing her the screen.
“Estelle’s Corner?” she asked, smiling.
I nodded. I’d deleted my Chloe persona long ago, deciding my fresh start in life should transfer into the blogosphere as well. Surprisingly, the blog had gained a sizeable following, even with my old lady name attached to it.
Indie cleared her throat, then read aloud from my most recent post. “Dear Hannah,” she began. “Though I know your heart is breaking from your breakup with Jeremy, it is within moments like these we learn to put the pieces back on our own. No one else can do it for us.
“And although your heart will never be put back quite the same way as it was before, you can trust that it will be strong enough to endure what comes next. Because you mended it yourself. You crafted its walls to withstand any pain, hurt or distrust.
“And the next time Jeremy or any other guy comes around, you can rest assured they will have to move mountains in order earn your love again. And if they don’t, they simply aren’t worth your time. Because the guy who is worth it will find a way.”
Indie looked up at me, grinning. “That’s really sweet, Es,” she told me. “This Hannah girl will love it.”
She wrapped her arms around my waist, snuggling beside me on the window seat. The moment transferred us back in time, as if we were both little girls again. I guess in some ways, we still were those little girls, always hopeful of the future, but frightened of the past.
“Mommy baked a pie,” Indie randomly announced.
I arched an astonished brow. “Really?”
She nodded.
That was odd. My mother hadn’t baked anything since we’d left Oregon. I wondered if today’s date had something to do with her renewed interest in her old love of it.
As if on cue, Mom walked into the doorway wearing oven mittens and carrying a pie. The aroma of apples and cinnamon filled my bedroom. It smelled heavenly.
She sat the pie down and held out three forks. “I thought it was fitting for the occasion,” she told us. “This was your father’s favorite.”
A curious look was shared between Indie and I. It surprised me that she even mentioned Dad. No one ever uttered a word about him, especially not today.
Though I was curious, I didn’t really want to question my mother, or attempt to delve into her world. Ever since I’d come back home from Paris, we’d developed a quiet resentment towards each other. I suspected she blamed me for getting rid of my so-called gift. I still hadn’t forgiven her completely, either. Not only just for using me all those years, but for something else too. I figured I’d be swarmed with members of the press, police officers, perhaps even forced into making a trip to the hospital when I got home. But none of that had happened. She never even reported me missing. Granted, I told her I’d be fine, but still…I figured she would feel a mother’s natural instinct to worry about her child. Yet she hadn’t. She’d been more concerned over how it might’ve affected Indie’s career.
It was a curious thing that I could forgive Indie so easily. In my mind, she was still my little sister, and we were closer now than we were before the removal of my curse. She’d changed, I think. In some ways, she was still growing up.
For whatever reason though, I couldn’t bring myself to forgive my mother. Maybe because Indie’s misguided behavior was her fault, too.
Indie got up first. She sat on the edge of my bed picked up a fork, and shoved it into the pie. “I haven’t had carbs in years,” she said, just before stuffing her mouth. Between bites, she groaned in pleasure. “This is amazing.”
Indie’s face was comical. My mother and I shared a smile-a rare moment for the two of us. Indie never failed to entertain people, even in the simplest of moments.
I wondered what it would be like if our father were here. I think there was a part of me that was still unsettled about his death. He was the glue that held everyone together. I truly believed if he were still here, our family would feel like a complete unit.
My mother carried the pie to me. She held out a fork. Tentatively, I took a fork and wedged out a bite of the pie.
“Apple-cinnamon was my favorite, too,” I said.
She nodded. “I remember.”
The three of us ate the pie together in silence. My mother hadn’t lost her knack for baking; it was delicious.
Eating that pie was sort of a perfect memorial for my father. It was what he would’ve wanted. For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t horrible for us to be in the same room with each other.
Unexpectedly, however, my mother suddenly burst into tears. Indie and I stopped eating, startled. “Oh, Essie, I’m so sorry,” she said through choked sobs.
I looked at Indie for an explanation. My sister shrugged, having no clue as to what was wrong.
“For what?” I hesitantly asked.
“For everything,” she choked. “I think I ignored you for so long and kept you locked up in the house because I didn’t want to deal with my pain.”
“What are you talking about, Rachel?” I said her name, trying to shock her out of her tears.
“Don’t call me that,” she scolded. “I know you’re angry when you call me that.”
“I’m not angry,” I sighed. “I’m trying to understand.”
She sniffed, wiping away tears and
makeup. “I still remember that day like it was yesterday.” A haunted look passed over her eyes. “I never dealt with it and I should have. I should’ve been there for you.”
A huge secret hid behind a dark veil. My mother and I refused to lift the veil. We were terrified to see what lied behind it.
“You were still a little girl. He was helping you build your dollhouse.”
I shook my head, wishing I could tell her to stop. The words were lodged in my throat.
“The cancer crept up so fast. We didn’t even know he’d been sick until it was too late. He wanted to spend his last few months as a family. He wanted to finish the dollhouse for you.”
“Mom,” I choked, pleadingly. I wanted her to stop speaking.
“I walked in your room and found your father’s head lying on your lap. He’d had one of his coughing fits, and choked on his blood. There were red stains all over your pretty white dress. You looked at me with this horrified expression, expecting me to explain what happened. I didn’t know what to say. We never anticipated his time would end like that, not around you girls. We never talked about what we’d do, what we would say.”
I stared out of my bedroom window, horrified. I saw the street below me, the leafy trees and the green grass. There was a little boy riding his bicycle, and a mother taking a walk while pushing her baby’s stroller. I saw it and yet I saw none of it.
The past crept up into my line of vision instead. The little girl in the white dress, the one who terrified me in my dreams, she wasn’t a ghost.
How could I have forgotten?
“I’m sorry, Essie,” my mother said again.
“I blamed myself,” I said quietly. “It all happened so fast. I thought maybe you blamed me, too.”
My mother shook her head, tears welling in her eyes again. “I never blamed you. I just couldn’t deal with you. I checked-out for a while and when I returned, I pretended like it never happened. Like you never had to witness it.”
I watched as she bit her fist, the way I often did while I cried. “Why does all this matter to you now?” I couldn’t help but ask my mom. “Why bring it up after all these years?”
She shrugged, wiping her eyes. “Your leaving for college hit me hard. After you left, I thought I’d never see you again. I didn’t think I deserved to see you again.”
I sighed miserably. Though I didn’t really want to give her the satisfaction of being completely forgiven, I didn’t want to be angry with her anymore either. Trying not to grumble, I said, “I’m sure you’ll see me again, Mom.”
My mother flinched. Then she smiled a little. “Do you mean it?”
I shrugged, trying to act somewhat blasé. “Yeah. For Indie’s sake, if for nothing else.”
She smiled happily. But I swore if she even tried to hug me, I’d bolt out of there like nobody’s business.
I glanced at my sister, who also wiped away tears from her eyes. “Look,” Indie said, pointing to the window. “The sun is about to go down. We should go outside.”
She reached for my hand, pulling me from my corner of the window seat. “Come on, Es. This will be one of the last ones we watch together before you leave for Florida.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, suppressing a grin. “But only if you watch the sunrise with me tomorrow.”
Indie grimaced. “You want to wake up that early?”
I arched a brow. “Deal or no deal?”
“Fine,” she acceded, narrowing her eyes on me. “I’ll do it. Now, let’s go before we miss the sunset.”
Epilogue
Lola and Gabe’s wedding ceremony was held on the beach directly outside of the seaside mansion shared between the members of the Constantin family. Fellow gypsies had traveled from hundreds of miles away to attend the event, and it was nothing short of breathtaking.
Just before sunset, Rex and I walked down an aisle lit up with candle lanterns, and adorned with seashells and pearls. I wore a plum bridesmaid’s dress while Rex was outfitted in a tailored, white suit. Something about that moment felt right, as if we were one day meant to share this experience, too. After brushing a quick kiss along my cheek, Rex let go of my arm and we moved to our respective places beneath the gazebo.
The attendees shared mutual gasps of delight as Lola stepped down the aisle in an off-the -shoulder mermaid style wedding gown. The color of the gown was a beautiful, shimmery-white, lighting up Lola’s beaming face. I glanced at Gabe, noticing his expression matched his soon-to-be wife’s.
The entire ceremony possessed a tranquil, serene energy. It was fitting. Lola and Gabe’s storm had passed, and they could enjoy their life peacefully. They bound themselves together through the most devoted vows I’d ever heard, as if their words were carved in stone somewhere. It meant so much to me, knowing they could finally share this life together, since my curse was the reason they’d spent so many lives apart.
The reception was held in the Constantin’s ballroom. I was still reeling over the fact that Rex’s house included a ballroom. I knew they were wealthy, but I never knew how wealthy. Their home was simply gorgeous. I’d thought I’d mistakenly entered some grand hotel when I first arrived.
As evening fell, hundreds of guests flooded into the ballroom. I wondered how it was possible for Lola and Gabe to know so many people, and even questioned Rex about it. He told me gypsy tribes considered themselves linked together as one people. Weddings were the biggest cause for celebration.
Later on that night, Lola introduced me to her cousin, a lovely girl with coppery hair named Dakota.
Dakota bowed down before me. “We are not worthy,” she chanted.
I pressed a hand to my lips to keep from grinning. I looked to Lola, seeing her roll her eyes. “What is this about?” I asked.
Dakota stood, straightening her gown. “You changed Rex completely, doll. He’s actually nice now. I didn’t think that would ever happen.”
I chuckled at her awed expression.
“No, seriously,” she said. “I brought him some mail the other day, which was accidentally delivered to our grandmother’s house, and Rex said thank you. He actually said thank you. I was speechless. He thought something was wrong with me, I stood there so long with my mouth hanging open like an idiot.”
Lola and I tried to contain a fit of giggles.
“He couldn’t have been that bad,” I claimed.
Lola raised a brow at me. “This coming from you? I remember you aptly referring to Rex as a jackass on more than one occasion.”
“True story,” I admitted, smiling.
I sought out the person in question. He stood across the room, talking within a small circle of men. He looked especially handsome tonight with his dark hair slicked back, displaying every line in his sculpted face.
Rex turned and looked my way, locking eyes with me. He stared at me unabashedly, causing all of his companions to curiously look in my direction. I turned my head, slightly embarrassed. Stealing a quick glance back at him, I saw Rex excuse himself from his friends, then head towards me. If they didn’t know what captured his attention before, they would definitely know now.
“Toast, toast!” someone shouted.
Lola groaned loudly. I looked up to see her grandmother, Miriam, taking a microphone away from one of the band members, cutting them off mid-song.
Rex joined me, two glasses of champagne in hand.
Miriam cleared her throat and smoothed out her silver ball gown. I would’ve never guessed she was someone’s grandmother if no one had told me. The woman was positively stunning.
“I just want to say thank you to everyone for coming tonight. Even those of you who weren’t invited.” The room filled with quiet snickers. “More importantly, I wanted to wish my granddaughter, Lola, a beautiful marriage. I’d like to give the happy couple some advice.” Miriam’s eyes scanned the crowd, then lit up once she spotted Gabe. “Gabriel, my boy, you must learn to use the phrase yes, dear. Use it often.”
Gabe flashed a wide smile. He mouthed y
es, dear to Miriam.
“Secondly, raising kids is like being pecked to death by chickens. I don’t recommend it, not at least until you’re older and have developed more patience.”
Miriam paused, as if waiting for the crowd’s reaction, but there was none. Everyone turned about, looking confused. “Anyway,” Miriam continued. “I know your love for one another has existed for quite some time, but you must always love harder and deeper, until your love for one another fills even the deepest parts of the ocean. If you do this, your troubles will be as light as the sea foam.”
Everyone clapped while Miriam took a theatrical bow, her grand show over and well wishes sent.
In the corner of the room, I noticed Zetta sitting at a table next to Lola’s father Christo. She looked nice, dressed up in her shiny pink turban. “She’s been well guarded,” Rex mentioned, noticing the direction of my gaze. “No one has made any moves, not yet anyway.”
“I’m glad.”
He took my hand in his. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Rex tugged me along with him, out of the ballroom’s French doors, and towards the beach. “Where are we going?” I asked curiously.
“Somewhere we can be alone.”
I wasn’t arguing with that. Anywhere alone with Rex was a place I’d happily be.
Once we reached the beach, I slipped off my heels, letting the silky sand sink between my toes. I slowly waded into the warm water, lifting my dress, careful not to get it wet. Water drifted, then flowed back again across my bare feet. The waves lolled to shore and lapped over the sand with a sizzling hiss. It was a beautifully vast sound, making me feel as if Rex and I were the only two people in the world.
“I love it here,” I told Rex dreamily. “There’s something about the ocean.”
Rex ventured into the water beside me. “Most gypsies love water, thrive near it.”
His comment made me think of Redwood Forest’s waterfall, which cascaded into the winding river. Those bodies of water were the centerpieces of the Rom’s small kingdom.
“Why do you think that is?” I asked curiously.