by Liz Dejesus
The sun was rising, giving the sky a mixture of purple, pink, and peach tones. The trees glowed with the gentle warmth of the sunlight. All around her, there were signs of the coming autumn. The leaves were tinged with yellow and yellow-orange. She stood in front of her house and sighed. Bianca found the spare key underneath the ceramic green frog. She shuddered as she picked up the fake frog. There was no way that she was going to be able to look at it the same way. She threw the ceramic amphibian into the trash can. Bianca could only hope that she would never have to lay eyes on another frog ever again.
She unlocked the door and tried to sneak in. She should’ve known better than to do something so ridiculous. Her mother had excellent hearing. She was sure that Rose was awake by now. Bianca smiled when she saw that the kitchen light was on and heard the clatter of pots and pans. Rose was awake all right. Bianca took a deep breath. She braced herself as she walked into the kitchen. Rose was busy making herself a cup of tea.
“Hi, Mom,” Bianca said.
Rose froze. The only hint Bianca had that her mother heard a word she spoke was the sideward glance she gave her daughter.
“Mad at me?” Bianca asked.
Rose placed both hands on the kitchen counter and sighed.
“Mom?”
Bianca took a step toward her mother. She was about to say something else, when she saw several splashes fall onto Rose’s pale hands. Tears. She’d made her mother cry. She could count on one hand the amount of times she had seen Rose cry. Bianca’s first day of preschool, when she let go of Rose’s hand and ran to the teacher. Her first Irish Step Dance recital, the day David disappeared, and now…this morning in the kitchen. Bianca was sure that Rose cried plenty of times when she was all by herself, but being up close and personal was a completely different story. It made her feel helpless, as though there was nothing she could do to make her stop from shedding all those tears.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” Rose’s voice brought Bianca back to the present.
“I’m sorry,” Bianca whispered.
“I had no way to contact you. No way to know if you were okay. I wanted to go find you, but your father wouldn’t let me. He was afraid of what the trip would do to the baby. We have no way of knowing how magic will affect my pregnancy. I don’t want to lose this baby. I had no choice but to stay home.”
“I was just trying to keep you safe. I didn’t want anyone to hurt you or the baby,” Bianca explained.
Rose looked at the ceiling. She dried her cheeks and lovingly gazed at her daughter. Her green eyes were bloodshot, probably from the hours of worry and crying. She placed a protective hand over her belly. Even though it was still relatively flat, Bianca knew that there was a tiny life growing in there. Brother…or sister? Bianca didn’t care; she would love him or her either way, unconditionally.
“Sweetie, this baby doesn’t replace you. You might be shocked to hear this, but you are my best friend. I lose you, well, you can go ahead dig a hole in the backyard because I may as well be dead.”
“I’m sorry, Mommy.”
“I know, sweetie. And I know that you were just trying to keep us safe. I had several arguments with your father about it while you were gone. It still doesn’t change the fact that you snuck out of here without telling me. Next time, talk to me. I’m the designated adult in this house. I’m responsible for you.”
“Designated adult?” Bianca chuckled.
“It’s six in the morning. Give me a break.” Rose rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. “And for the record, you’re grounded until the end of time.”
“Ha! Until the next crisis comes up and I have to save everyone’s butt. You’ll have to un-ground me then.”
Rose hugged her daughter and kissed her several times on the forehead. “Go take a shower. You stink.”
“On it.”
Bianca was in the bathroom for an hour. She was relieved to feel the hot water against her skin. She let the water run over her body. She was desperate to scrub herself clean and get rid of the stench of frogs, slime, and death. When she got out, she put on her softest, most comfy indigo pajamas. Once she was safe in her room, she lay down on her bed and waited for sleep to take her. She closed her eyes as she thought of Terrance’s handsome face and his dark brown eyes. Bianca let out a happy sigh as she remembered the feel of his soft lips pressed upon her own. She was certain that forever with him would never be enough. One more year until she turned eighteen and graduated from high school. Then she could be with him.
Bianca grinned.
A lot can happen in a year.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, God. My wonderful husband, Kurt and my incredible children. They are incredibly patient with me and allow me the time I need to write and live in this little world that I have created. I also want to thank my parents, brothers, family and friends that help me with other day to day things. So many of you have babysat my children so I could have time to write and promote First Frost, for that I’m eternally grateful. And the fans, every single reviewer and blogger that took the time to read and promote First Frost…you guys are incredible.
Also thanks to The Written Remains Writing Guild, you were all so warm and welcoming. Thank you for allowing me to be a member of your group, I’ve learned so much from each and every one of you. I’m honored to call you my friends.
About the Author
Liz DeJesus was born on the tiny island of Puerto Rico. She is a novelist and a poet. She has been writing for as long as she was capable of holding a pen. She is the author of the novel Nina (Blu Phi’er Publishing, October 2007), The Jackets (Arte Publico Press, March 2011) First Frost (Musa Publishing, June 2012) and Glass Frost (Musa Publishing, July 2013).
She is also a member of The Written Remains Writers Guild.
Liz is currently working on a new novel. Feel free to email her at [email protected].
Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Acknowledgements
About the Author