by Marnie Cate
“I fear you are going to be the end of me,” Jameson declared, accepting my hand and standing. “I really should tell the Goddess you need someone else to watch over you.”
“But, you won't,” I said, moving closer.
Jameson kissed me again, and then whispered in my ear, “You have bewitched me, sweet Blanche. I don't know how I will ever be able to let you go.”
* * *
My heart felt so full when I climbed back into my bed. As my eyes began to close, reality hit. Tonight, I had opened my heart to both men. There was something real pulling me towards them. How could I marry Roger and still have feelings for Jameson?
I shook my head as though to clear it. I needed to stop thinking about this because it didn't matter. I would marry Roger and stop whatever this was with Jameson. Snowystra has spoken.
But, she has no right! I thought angrily. I felt like a petulant child, but I refused to give up everything that was mine. She might be able to decide my future, but she could never tell me who to love.
Morning came too quickly. My mind had resolved nothing in my dark slumber. Images of Snowystra taking my child had consumed my dreams. I would just get through today, and then tomorrow, and so forth until…until when? Until I was free from Snowystra? My mother had spent fifty years of her life in fear of her. Would I face the same life?
Chapter 5
Strolling hand-in-hand with Roger down Main Street, I felt special. People waved at us and shouted their congratulations. As a Drygen, I had never been treated like a part of the community. People had always kept their distance. In their defense, I never had made myself approachable.
As we neared the ice cream parlor on Main Street, I breathed in the sweet smells of waffle cones, and my mouth watered at the thought of the cheeseburger I would be eating. Instead of giving the restaurant a name, it had a painted image of an ice cream shake and a hamburger above the store front. Some people called it `Jackson's', after the owners, but most just called it `the ice cream parlor'.
“I hear congratulation are in order. My, aren't you a lovely couple,” Mrs. Jackson brightly greeted us.
“Thank you, Mrs. Jackson. We are quite happy,” I replied warmly.
“Yes, I am a lucky man,” Roger said, kissing my hand.
“You are in luck, again. A booth just opened and Simon is clearing it,” Mrs. Jackson announced, leading us to the table.
“Blanche,” Simon nodded. “Mr. Kingston.”
I hadn't thought about Simon in a long time. At the end of our last year of school, Simon had asked me to marry him. I had said yes, but made him keep it a secret. After months of begging me to make our engagement known, I told him I couldn't marry him. I knew my mother would never agree. He told me he would wait for me.
To convince him I would never marry him, I began dating other boys, and made it a point to bring all my dates to the ice cream parlor. He finally gave up on asking me, but he was still single. At one time, I had thought I would marry him, but it had been a young girl's dreams. Every time I saw him, I remembered what had attracted me to him. Today was no different.
“Well, Simon. We are here for the works. Cheeseburgers, fries and shakes,” Roger ordered.
Interesting. He will be making my food decisions, I thought.
“No onions or pickle and a chocolate cherry shake for you, Blanche?” Simon asked. He had remembered what I liked to order.
“I can't believe you remembered,” I laughed.
“How could I forget,” Simon said with a wink.
I might have smiled too brightly at Simon or my tone might have been too familiar. Roger's face grew dark.
“Well, I will get your order in,” Simon said, leaving quickly.
“A friend of yours?” Roger asked in a low voice.
“Yes, we went to school together,” I answered. He was not going to intimidate me. I locked eyes with him. “Is there a problem, Roger?”
“He was overfriendly and I do not care for the way he was looking at you,” Roger said, folding his hands and placing them on the table.
Are we in business negotiations now? I wondered. How would my mother respond? Placate him?
“ `Oh, beware, my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock',” I recited.
“We are quoting Shakespeare now?” he asked, the hardness in his eyes flickering.
“Roger, there is no need for you to be jealous. Simon is a boy. He could never compete with you,” I said, placing a hand on top of his.
The anger was once again gone, and I was staring into kind brown eyes. “Why this sudden change, Blanche? I have been pursuing you for almost two years?”
“I never realized you wanted me, not `the Drygen legacy',” I explained. “Could you blame me for distrusting your intentions? My mother has been trying to marry me off since I turned seventeen.”
Roger took my hands into his. “I won't lie and say I wasn't interested in the business side of your family, Blanche. But, I didn't need to marry you. Your mother and I have worked for years on projects. It was you I was interested in. In a sea of eligible women, my eyes would always drift first to you. You bewitched me.”
I planned on deceiving and lying to this man. A man who truly felt something for me, and not the piles and piles of money I represented. My confidence waivered. The cold business woman façade dissolved and I felt exposed.
“Don't you remember the first time I approached you?”
“At one of my mother's dinners?” I asked, uncertain.
“No, it was at Mrs. Thompson's bookstore. You were looking through a book on gardening, and sipping tea,” he said. “You were reading so intently. I watched you from the window for a good half hour, debating on whether or not to go in and talk to you.”
“I remember now,” I laughed. “You asked me if the book said anything about `how to get rid of silver moss beetles from roses'.”
“Do I look like the gardener?” he asked, attempting to imitate my voice. “You looked at me coolly, and said, `I can recommend one', and then went back to your book.”
“And, you liked that?” I wondered with a soft chuckle.
“You were so confident,” he recalled with a tender expression on his face. “You were not to be distracted by what was unimportant to you.”
“Chocolate cherry shake for the lady and vanilla for the gentleman,” Simon said, placing our food on the table. “Enjoy your meal.”
Simon's skill for detecting body language was remarkable. The cold front he received from Roger might have been missed by most, but Simon could always read a situation. I was grateful he decided to deliver our meal and leave quickly.
“I don't do well with betrayal, Blanche,” he finally said.
“Nor do I,” I said, meeting his troubled eyes. “If I didn't want to marry you, I wouldn't be here right now. Actually, Roger, I've been thinking.” I grasped his hand for emphasis. “Why don't we move the wedding date up? Let's get married and begin our life together sooner.”
“Are you serious?” He searched my face for answers. “I want the big wedding, Blanche. I want the world to celebrate with us.”
“We could still have our dream wedding. Between my mother's connections and yours, why couldn't we marry in two weeks?”
Roger eyed me. I knew he was trying to figure out my intentions.
“What is stopping us?” I pushed. “I am a Drygen and you are a Kingston. Do we not make the rules?”
The sides of his mouth pulled up into a brilliant smile, and laughter escaped his lips. “Two weeks. Okay, yes,” he agreed, bobbing his head. “We will marry in two weeks if this will make you happy.”
“Very happy,” I assured him.
Roger sighed, shaking his head. “Enchantress,” he said softly.
Pleased, I smiled brightly. “Now that we have cleared up any unpleasantness and settled our plans, try my shake. You will never want your boring vanilla again,” I promised, holding my straw to his lips.
Roger to
ok a long drink, not breaking eye contact. When he finished, he put his hand on his heart and threw his head back. “Delicious. I cannot imagine what else I have been missing without you in my life.”
“Yes, I am full of surprises,” I smiled. “Let's enjoy our day together now.”
As he reached for his hamburger, my smile faded. The joy I had momentarily felt turned heavy. I'm sorry, Roger. Enjoy today. Our future will definitely have dark goddesses, magic and possible death, I thought wryly.
* * *
“Mother, what part of `simple' is confusing you?” I asked.
Since we entered the storefront, clerks had been delivering over-fluffed, puffy-sleeved ball gowns I would drown in. The last white atrocity they presented had long sleeves and was covered in gold beading. It was so big it had to be carried by two clerks.
“Please, something with less fabric,” I pleaded.
As if the world had answered, a clerk carried in my dress. The trumpet style garment had a delicate flower design embellishment. The cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline were covered in silver beads and crystals, and the sweeping train was encircled in a delicate lace. When I put it on, I felt like a princess.
“Why didn't you bring more dresses like this before? The others were horrible,” I scolded.
“We just received this delivery not long after you came in,” the clerk said nervously. “Honestly, we have never worked with this designer before. I only accepted it because she was so eager to share it with a young bride for free. She mentioned you specifically, Miss Drygen.”
“Can we cover up the back?” my mother asked the clerk.
The clerk nodded. “Of course. We could use —”
“I like it this way, Mother,” I said, staring at the backless gown in the mirror. “Roger will be pleased.”
My mother shook her head and whispered something to one of the clerks.
“I think it is perfect. The designer made such a brilliant dress. I must contact her to commission more clothing. Did she leave her name?” I asked.
“The designer left this for you,” a second clerk said, handing me a silver box.
Nestled in black satin, a white feather and a sparkling snowflake were attached to a birdcage veil. The note inside read: `No reason to hide your beautiful face'.
“Wouldn't you feel more comfortable covered up a bit more?” my mother asked, not hiding her irritation about my choice.
“Mother, I think Auntie Snow would be very pleased with my choice. We don't want to disappoint her, do we?” I said, handing the veil with the note to her.
“Should we find another dress, Mrs. Drygen?” the clerk inquired, glancing between us.
“No, no, my daughter is correct. This is an exquisite dress,” my mother said, her voice cracking. “Please leave us now.”
The clerks bowed their heads and left quickly. When they were out of earshot, my mother circled me. “Are you really fine with the dress? This is your special day and she can't take that from you.”
“I really do love it, Mother,” I said, still staring at my reflection. Pulling my hair up into a loose up do, I reached for the veil. “Let's see how I look?”
“You have never looked more beautiful, my sweet daughter. I am sorry I have brought you into this life to suffer the same as I did,” she said, touching my arm.
“Mother, I cannot deal with your pain and my own. We will endure as we always have. Maybe she will grow bored of us, and will try to recruit another of Danu's blessed,” I offered hopefully. There was doubt in my voice, but thinking of my husband-to-be, I realized there was no longer doubt in my heart. “Even though Roger was her choice, I have fallen for him. I love him.”
“You must never let her know this,” my mother warned in a hushed voice. “Anything you love will never be safe from her grasp. Never love anyone too much, Blanche. It is the only way.”
Never love anyone? Too late, Mother. “I am a Drygen. I know how to not love, Mother. You taught me well.”
Chapter 6
Something kept pulling me to Jameson. I didn't understand our connection. Lying on the beach next to him, I could feel his magic pulsing.
“Tell me why you are so familiar to me,” I said hesitantly. “The night Snowystra filled me with her Winter magic to warn me the risks of defying her, you whispered in my ear to play dead. This wasn't the first time I heard your voice. I trusted it because I recognized it. How long have you been watching me?”
“Off and on since you were a child. It wasn't until you were sixteen that she insisted I watch you constantly. She was convinced you had magic and Camille lied about it.”
“How do you talk to me that way? How does no one else hear it?”
“My mother was Ateissa.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, sitting up and resting my chin on my hand.
“She was one of Brighid's blessed.”
“Brighid?”
“Another goddess,” he said, dismissing me. “She gives the gift of comfort and mind communication.”
“Oh, does that mean you are not whispering? You are in my mind. Do you listen to my thoughts?” I asked.
Jameson blushed. “Um, I try not to, but if I am listening, you will always be able to tell.”
“How?” I pressed. He's crazy. How would I be able to tell if he was listening to my thoughts?
And that was when I heard it – a faint hum. It was so inconsequential I would have past it off as a moss beetle, the wind or my ears ringing.
“I am not crazy. I haven't listened to your thoughts intentionally for many years,” he grinned.
I wish you would kiss me, I thought.
He didn't respond.
I sighed and said, “So if your mother was At…”
“Ateissa.”
“Yes, Ateissa. Who is your father?” I asked.
“My father was Miezitari. He was a guide to the Afterlife,” he said proudly. “He escorted the souls of the dead to the next realm.”
“What is it like in the Afterlife?”
“It is beautiful. People live much like they do in this life. They can hold onto what they treasured most. This allows them to choose their new world in a sense.”
“Can she go there?” I asked. “Can Snowystra reach them there?”
“No, she cannot enter the Afterlife.” Standing, he wiped the sand off himself. “I think it is best if I took you home now.”
“Will you take me to the Winter again?”
“Maybe.”
“Tomorrow?” I persisted. He remained silent.
Maybe you will kiss me then? I thought, but there was no humming. He had not heard my desire.
* * *
The next evening, I felt more assertive. I convinced Jameson to take me to the lake again. We lied on the blanket, staring at the stars for a very long time. The silence was killing me. Growing restless, I stood up.
“Are you ready to go home?” Jameson asked, following me.
“No, I want to swim,” I replied, stripping down to my underwear and bra.
He quickly turned away. “You shouldn't.”
“The water is nice,” I said. Ignoring him, I waded in before defiantly suggesting, “You should join me.” I swam further out and called to him again. “Come on.”
He watched me for several moments before he tossed his clothes on top of mine and dove into the lake. His muscular body seemed to glide through the water. It did not take him long to reach my side. When he did, I could see his conflicting emotions play across his face.
“It is not safe out here for you,” Jameson scolded.
“When are you going to take me back to Snowstrum, Jameson?” I asked.
He slipped his arms around my waist and drew me closer to him. “You might drown out here.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly, and I murmured in his ear, “Please take me to Snowstrum. I want to feel my magic again.”
“I must take you to shore,” he said, pulling away from me.
I
let myself slip under the water. The quiet urged me to swim deeper. I wanted to reach the bottom. Into the darkness, I swam until I felt his arms around my waist. Quickly, he dragged me to the surface.
“I was only –” I began when we popped above the water.
I wanted to tell him I was only swimming when he pressed his lips to mine. Responding, I held onto him tightly. When we parted, he avoided looking at me, and a sadness filled his eyes.
“You are not going to take me there again, are you?” I asked, though I already knew what his response would be.
Instead of answering me, he began to kiss my neck. He was trying to distract me from my questions. I relented, and let myself enjoy his attention. This was the next best thing to the sensations of Winter magic in Snowstrum coursing through my body.
“I told you, every time I take you there, we are at risk. We chance her finding out, and she will find out… if we are not more careful,” he said, holding me tighter. “You will be married in two days. You won't need my attention any longer.”
“You are wrong,” I replied. Taking his face into my hands, I stared deep into his eyes. “I have fallen in love with you. I am madly in love with you, and I will always need you.”
I surprised myself with those words, and from his expression, I could see he was shocked by my confession.
“And you love him?” he asked. His voice was stone cold, but I could hear his pain.
“I won't lie to you,” I whispered, steeling myself. “I do love him, but it is a different kind of love.” My voice cracked with my emotions. How can I make him understand when I do not?
“Once you are married, you will be busy playing happy wife. You will have no need for distraction,” he accused. Releasing his hold on me, he moved away. “It is late, Blanche. We should get you home.”
Without notice, the air grew thick around us and we were in my bedroom. Jameson stood before me, still dripping wet from the lake. His body stiffened as I tried to take his hand.
“I better go. I will see you tomorrow for the last time, Blanche. Then, you must let me go forever,” he said, kissing me on the cheek, and stepping backwards, he put distance between us.