by Jacquie Gee
The green glow whirls around.
It flashes, enraged. Then, with the thunderous roar of a storm, draws its tentacle-like reach back from every orifice of the house, and drains onto the floorboards in front of me, where he takes on a human form.
I gasp and fall back, terrified by its presence, staring into his green, glowing face.
His eyes are wild, yet pathetically longing. His unkempt hair whirls about his face. My ears whomp with pressure, as he steps toward me, encompassing me in his magnetic space. "I've made a mistake, you have to fix it for me." He drawls, loud and long.
“Fix it?” My voice rattles, inside his oddly warped aura. “I’ve come here to fix my own life, not yours.”
The monitors rattle and scream at my feet. I steady my stance against the increasing pressure. Gauges crack. Speakers blow. His shuddering voice explodes. “All answers lie within her, you fool! Don’t you see? Yours and mine alike!”
And then just like that, he is gone. He sails from the room, and up the chimney of the raging hearth as if instantaneously sucked up by it.
“Edgar!” I lunge forward, casting myself at the burning hearth, jutting my chin out over the flames. “Edgar! Don't go!" I shout, scorching my hands on the bricks. "Edgar, what do you mean?"
Chapter 25
Jules
“I can’t do this.” Colette stands, sniveling in her skivvies, within the depths of designer wedding dress number one. Her massive, ballroom skirt stands in a starched circle around her, wall-to-wall, filling the parson’s nook at the back of the church, like a too-blown-up-balloon. Anna and I have squeezed into the tiny room — a room barely big enough to fit all three of us, let alone her dress— and are shuffling around trying to help finish dressing, as outside the organ plays to a church overflowing with patrons.
“You don’t understand.” She wrings her hands. “I really shouldn’t do this.”
“Too late for that decision,” Anna says, hiking up the bodice of her dress. “The rock is on the finger.”
“Anna!” I say and flash my eyes, in a way that scream, let’s try to show a little compassion, shall we?” Though, I don’t completely understand why she’s called for me, in the first place. It’s not like we’re exactly friends.
I was fully prepared to help her with the Trash The Dress portion of her program today, down by the river, but this is beyond the call of duty. I swear she just wanted to rub it in— the fact she’s having my dream wedding, in my dream location, under the cover of Heartbeat Bridge— while not wearing one of my creations. At least not for the main event.
I dragged Anna along for moral support, ’cause you never know with Colette, what might actually happen.
Threading the laces through the eyes at the back of her dress I grab hold of the ribbons and begin pulling them tight.
Colette wobbles and bobbles with every thrust. “I can’t go through with this. I can’t walk down that aisle.” She sniffs.
“Yes, you can.” Anna coaches, still sifting through layers of skirt. “You just put one foot after the other.” She smiles, snugging the waist of her dress a little tighter.
“No, you don’t understand. I know I can, it’s just that I shouldn’t.” Colette shakes. Tears threaten her heavily mascaraed eyes. I stop what I’m doing to hand her a Kleenex and she blows her nose hard.
“You’ll be fine.” Anna strokes her arm and hands her a second Kleenex. “You’re just suffering from nerves. Every Bride experiences them.”
Is that true? Do all Brides get this way, right before they tie the knot?
I’ve only seriously been to one other wedding. And the bride practically ran up the aisle, getting married for the first time, at forty-five.
"I can't go through with this!" Colette honks her nose. "I can't marry Ship!" Colette freaks and Anna slaps the side of her face.
“Anna!” I shout.
“Seriously, Dude she needs to get a grip,” she shouts to me, and then at Colette, shaking her by the shoulders. “You have to get married. It’s your wedding day. You made a promise. Now, get out there!” She spins her around, as I draw the base of her dress to a breath-stealing close.
“You don’t understand!” Colette’s shouts, clawing the door jambs, her bottom lip wobbling. “I can’t marry Ship. He’s not the one!”
“What?” Anna’s head cranks to look at me.
“Maybe we don’t wanna know.”
“I’m knocked up!” Colette blurts.
“I told you we didn’t want to know!” I grab Anna’s arm.
“That it? That’s what you’re freaking out about?” Anna shouts. “That’s nothing. Lots of girls get married pregnant.” She lowers her voice, “Especially, around these parts,” she mutters in her sleeve.
“No, you don’t get it.” Colette whips around, hiccups intermingling with her sobs. “It might not be Ship’s.” Her lips do double time.
“Oh, great gobs.” I melt down the door.
“I know, but I had to tell someone,” Colette’s voice squeaks.
“So, you picked me! A total stranger?” My voice cracks as I stub my chest.
“Okay, let’s not panic.” Anna paces. “let’s just figure this out. Collette, what odds are we talkin’?”
“What do you mean?”
“What are the odds that what you’re packin’ is Ship’s?”
“I dunno.” Colette blinks. “Seventy-forty, maybe sixty-fifty, how do you divide the odds in three?” She bites a nail.
“Oh, my, goodness.” I nearly faint.
Knuckles wrap on the parson’s door. The three of us jump into one another’s arms.
“Are you almost ready in there?” The parson snarls, in his heavy Scottish, French-Canadian brogue.
"Almost!" Anna answers, cheerfully, then turns grabbing Colette by the cheeks. "Look at me," she looks deep into her welling eyes. "There's a one in three chance that what you're packin’ is his, and you’re in love with him, right?” Anna asks.
“I suppose...”
“Oh, my gosh.” I slap my head.
“Well, then, you’re gonna turn around, march up that aisle and marry the man, you kind-of-love… and you’re gonna keep your mouth shut and your legs closed—except for your husband— until that thing pops out, and you’ll deal with it then!”
“Anna!” I snarl, pulling her aside. “What are you saying?”
“Chances are, Ship’ll never know,” she whispers back. “Or they’ll get divorced before it’s even born.” She turns her head. “You’ve got a prenup, right?”
Colette nods.
“Well, there you go. We’re all set!” Anna brings her hands together.
“I’m not gonna be a part of this." I turn to leave, and Anna snaps me back.
“Oh, no you don’t. “We’re all in this together, now. Besides,” she leans in close to my ear, whispering. “Have you seen what’s going on outside? YouTube’s here. To film their little star drowning in your gown, after the main ceremony. Do you know what that means?” Her hissing voice escalates. “Do you wanna miss out on that publicity?”
“Can you hear yourself right now?”
“She’s right. I’m okay, now. I’m ready!” Colette clasps her hands and whirls around. “I’m ready to go marry the man I love.” She breathes deep, snaps up her chin, and pushes her way out the door.
“Just think, if this doesn’t work out,” Anna whispers. “You can sell her the next dress?”
I frown, jabbing an elbow in her guts. “I don’t think this is right, we should stop her.”
“Haven’t you already paid off that electric bill?” Anna’s sarcastic brow hilts.
“Right,” I suck in my lip. “I’ll fix her train, you get the veil. I gasp, whirling around.
“Anna’s, right, once you’re married, it’ll all be fine, I’m sure.” My voice cracks, the guilt seeping through, as we bounce out the door.
“You really think so?” Colette bats her eyes, as Anna slaps on her veil.
�
�See,” Anna sidles up next to me. “It all worked out fine.” She slips her arm around my shoulder and leans against me on the railing of the bridge. “For now.” She makes me laugh.
Together, we stand, watching the very joyful, newly-wed Mrs. Colette Shepley, as she frolics in the shallow waters of the St. Shoshaunee River’s edge, along with new husband Ship. The two of them, in their post-apocalyptic zombie make-up, snarling and growling and laughing for the cameras in their ‘after the ceremony Trash The Bride’ duds. They couldn’t look happier together.
Anna was right. YouTube is here. Filming Colette, their star YouTuber’s every crazy move.
And there is my dress, right-up-front and center, being sloshed through the mud and dragged over rapids.
I couldn’t be more proud.
"Do you really think Ship will be good with it?" I turn to Anna. "You know when he finds out the news?"
“I don’t think Ship will ever find out,” Anna answers. “I think Colette will cheat on him before it’s even born, and they’ll be split up.”
“Cynical, much?” I arch my brows.
“Only when it comes to Colette Van Bommel.” Anna crushes me to her side.
“I still can’t believe she told us that,” I say.
“Well, like she said, she had to tell somebody. And as rough as you are around the edges, you’re pretty trustworthy.” Anna squishes me. “And you’ve got a tender heart.”
"Oh, stop." I roll my eyes and pull away.
“Why, am I ruining your non-conformist rep? You were just oozing compassion back there.”
I punch her lightly in the arm.
“Oh look!” Anna points, squinting at the river.
I turn my head to see Colette floating down the middle of the river on her back, white-painted face and kohl-stained eyes staring up at the clouds—cameramen on both shorelines, filming furiously.
I can’t believe how much attention she’s getting.
“Hey!” A voice calls up from the pathway under the bridge. “Aren’t you the girl who made the dress she’s wearing?” A reporter appears in the sunlight from under the structure.
“Why, yes.” Anna smiles. “Yes, she is!” She winks, releasing her arm from my neck, and backing away.
“Have you got a moment?” The reporter approaches, scuttling up the side of river bank, cautiously in her high-heeled shoes.
“Sure,” I say, not sounding confident. Come on, Jules, this could be your big break. Pour it on.
"Pleased to meet you." She sticks out a hand when she reaches the top. "Heartland Cove's resident designer."
I blush as Anna drifts to the side, sniggering, and the reporter engulfs me for the story.
“Would you mind, if I got a picture?” She holds up her camera.
Anna signals for me to read her name. I glance down at her press pass. Gothic Beauty Magazine. And international on-line magazine. “Sh-sure, that’d be great,” I stammer, shyly, then grin madly back at Anna, who’s bobbing up and down.
“It’s splendid. Incredibly made. And the perfect dress for the occasion,” the reporter boasts, as she snaps my photo from three separate directions. “I simply must know all about it.” She flips over an old fashion steno pad. “Do you have the time?”
“Absolutely.” I nod.
“What is your name?”
“Jules Bates…Julieta Bates, I correct myself.”
Anna flashes a smile.
“Have you always lived here, in Heartland Cove?”
I forgo my usual, unfortunately, yes, and go with a more positive, “Born and raised,” instead.
“What are the names of your gorgeous creations?”
The question catches me off guard. I look to Anna and back.
“What’s the name of your designer line,” the reporter rephrases.
“Aaaah…”
"Heartbreaks." Anna swoops in at my side. She threads an arm around my shoulder and casually crosses one leg. Then sticks out a hand, introducing herself as my business manager. "Just like in real life every Heartbreak is different!" she cheerfully chirps, delivering the perfect tagline.
“Heartbreaks. I love it!” The reporter’s eyes alight. She scribbles it down.
Don’t forget to mention the competition, Anna mouths to me, and I wink to her to say, okay thanks, and that’s when I notice him, out of the corner of my eye.
Jayden. Standing on the opposite side of the bridge, far away enough to keep his distance, but close enough to see my face— to share in the joy of this moment. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since— I swallow back the thought.
He smiles and I smile harder.
“So, tell me, Miss Bates,” the reporter asks, “is it also your dream to be married on this bridge? I hear it’s the dream of many in this town.”
“Maybe, someday,” I answer robotically, my eyes still on Jayden, unable to pull them away.
“Haven’t found the right man, yet?” the reporter asks, delirious of the scene playing out behind her.
My throat restricts. “No, not yet,” I say.
Jayden smiles, lowers his head, and offers me a slight wave before he drifts away, and my heart thrashes around inside my chest like a wounded bird, suddenly given a second chance at flight. “But maybe soon,” I add.
“Great. Keep me posted. I’d love to see what you wear.”
I hesitate, wondering should I wave back, but it’s too late, I’ve lost him in the crowd. I dance up onto my toes trying to track him, but he’s gone.
The former image of him, ghost-like.
Chapter 26
Jayden
I can’t believe it.
I yank a hand through my hair as I pace an aisle at the grocery, wearing out the tiles between the potatoes and lemons, and drawing multiple stares from the locals.
I had the opportunity right there in my hands. I grab a kumquat and squeeze it. “And I let it pass me by. You big dummy! I squeeze the kumquat harder.
Edgar’s right. You are useless.
“Are you gonna buy that kumquat, or just grope it?” A stock boy says, leaning next to my arm.
“Oh. Sorry.” I place it back. “Produce is very firm, very firm,” I reassure him, but still he doesn’t leave. Just smiles and keep his eyes on me.
I wheel my cart into the next aisle, stand on my toes and gawk out the window. The stock boy follows closely. I catch a glimpse of Jules and Anna headed toward Bates' Baits.
That’s it! You’re going over there, right now, and apologize. No more excuses. You’re gonna get this over with.
Whatever happens, at least you’ll have an answer.
Might not be the one you want, but…
I glance up again, seeing movement inside Bates' Baits, and my eyes stream open wide. “Excuse me,” I toss the stock boy aside, and dash for the exit.
“But your groceries!” he hollers after to me.
“Sorry, Gotta go!”
I make it half way across the road then trundle back, a bucket of splashing nerves. I can’t do this? What’ll I say? I hug the hood of my car, cowardly panting. I need to put more thought into this. I can’t just show up there half-cocked and beg her forgiveness. I turn to leave, then circle back. Or maybe that’s the perfect plan.
The door of Bates' Baits flies abruptly open and I scuttle behind my car to hide. It’s then I notice the patrons of the grocery all watching, noses pressed to the windows, monitoring my every move. How embarrassing. Seems I’m quite the attraction.
So much for Colette and Ship’s wedding.
Chapter 27
Jules
“If it’s bothering you that much, why don’t you just go talk to him?” Anna pleads to me with her eyes.
“Because I can’t—”
“You can,” she says, taking me by the hands and staring at me. “Just drive up there and talk to him. You saw him out there, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear from you.”
“I can’t.” I pull away, our hands unthreading.
�
�Why, not?” She chases after me as I weave through the shop.
"Because I've got to deliver this." I turn, holding up a carton of night crawlers, and a bag of minnows. "To the—" I check the delivery note— “Crossman’s. And you know how bait is; it can’t wait!”
“Oh, please.” Anna falls back in a huff, as I grab for my keys, and make a beeline for the door.
“You’re gonna regret this!” She hollers after me as I scurry out, even though, deep down I know she’s right. Eventually, I’m gonna need to deal with this. For my own sake, never mind his. But at the moment, I haven’t the guts. And I’m not sure I ever will.
Chapter 28
Jayden
I wait for the sound of a car engine to turn over and pull way, before leaping out of my hiding place and bounding across the road into Bait’s Bates.
"Is she here?" I inquire breathlessly of Anna, who stands in the middle of the shop.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Interrogation, himself.” She folds her arms and wobbles her head, casually clicking her heels toward me. “You just missed her.” She juts out her neck. “I tell you, you two and timing.” She wags a finger. “Not good.”
“You don’t happen know where she went?” I ask, doing my best to plead with pathetic eyes, which seem to have no effect on her. “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?" I add when at first, she doesn't answer.
She sighs, considering my request even longer, then finally… “To the lighthouse, up at Inlet Point,” she says. “With a delivery for Sandrine Crossman. If you hurry, you’ll be able to catch her there—”
"Thanks!" I say and skip into a run.
“If you do!” Anna shouts after me, as I charge out the door. “Don’t ask her any questions!”
Chapter 29
Jules