Bittersweet Sixteen (A Dodie Jenks Novel) (2 page)

BOOK: Bittersweet Sixteen (A Dodie Jenks Novel)
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Chapter Three

 

Grandma’s confidence should have given me comfort, but it didn’t. From what she’d told me, this family curse appeared to be real. Her sister had been healthy and yet she’d died from a fever. What was to keep me from dying the same way? Or at least in a way that would be deemed as natural causes? I didn’t want to die, no matter what they determined the cause to be.

My parents were arguing when we entered the house. They stopped immediately when we walked into the foyer. Mom got up off the loveseat and came over to me, pulling me into her arms.

“I’m sorry, Dodie. We should have handled this differently.”

“How? What could you have done different
ly? The bottom line is I could die on my birthday. I may go to sleep the night before and not wake up. Or I could step off the bus at school and fall dead. Heck, I could even blow up the chemistry lab taking out a few of my classmates with me.”

My dad frowned. “Don’t be glib.”

“Why not? Isn’t it better to try and find some humor in it than to be upset?” I took a breath and pointed a finger, tapping it repeatedly against my chest. “Because I really could be angry about this. To know my life is going to be over before it even has begun. All because one of our ancestors pissed off a witch by marrying another.”

“What?” My mom looked at my dad. “Did you know about this?”

He shook his head. “Is that where the curse came from?”

“Yes, Robert.” Grandma clasped her hands together in front of her. “I did some digging and traced the family line back to a group of Dohertys that lived in New England. There is a historical account in one of the town ledgers about the incident that backs up what little my father could tell me. However, I believe I’ve found a way to change Dodie’s fate.”

“You have?” Dad, mom and I all said in unison.

Grandma nodded. “Let’s all sit before Brody returns.”  She went to a bookshelf and brought over a large leather bound book with a tattered binding. “In my research I discovered this
Grimoire at a used bookstore. It was in a box of old books, so obviously the bookstore owner had no idea what she had purchased. I got it for little of nothing. The only problem is it’s written in a language I do not understand.”

“How is that supposed to help us?” Dad wanted to know.

“I haven’t given up hope. I took it to the university two towns over and found a scholar of languages that was able to put me in touch with someone who
might
be able to help.”

“Might?” I asked.

“Well, I have called twice, but the woman hasn’t returned my call yet. I’m going to try her again.”

“Then do it,” Mom urged. “We only have a month.”

“I know, but I must remind you I approached you twelve years ago and you chose to ignore me until now, so don’t expect miracles at this point.”

“Mother.” Dad’s look showed his displeasure in what Grandma said.

“No, Robert. Cherie is right. We were foolish not to heed her warning when she first came to us. We were wrong. So very wrong. We pushed her away and it is only by her goodness that she is letting us back into her life, to save Dodie.”

That is when mom broke down. She began to cry, falling onto the sofa, wailing as if I were already dead. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to go to her and comfort her, but another part of me was scared stiff—I couldn’t move. I looked to my dad, but he just sat there staring at my mom.

What was wrong with them? They were normally so put together. Yet they acted like they were out of their element—which they were. We all were. Except maybe for Grandma.

The sound of the front door opening and closing warned us of Brody’s return. Mom immediately sat up and excused herself. She avoided looking at my brother as she passed him in the foyer.

“I got the ice cream. Does anyone want any?”

“Take it on out to the kitchen, honey, and put it in the freezer.” Grandma picked up the
Grimoire and carried it back to the bookshelf. “We’ll have some tonight before we go to bed.”

We’re staying the night?

“Mother, we didn’t plan on staying.”

“But I told you to come for the weekend. How else are we going to figure this out?”

Dad threw his hands into the air and spoke through gritted teeth. “Fine. We’ll stay.”

“Good.” She walked over to the table where an old-fashioned gold accented telephone sat. I’d seen one in my favorite classic movie and
fallen in love with them, but dad said I couldn’t have one for my bedroom since I had a cellphone.

I watched Grandma pick up the slender handset and place the earpiece against her ear. The mouth piece curved toward her cheek and she rotary dialed the number. Within seconds someone must have picked up on the other end of the line because she began speaking.

“Hi. My name is Cheri Doherty Jenks. I’ve called before and left messages because professor… Yes, that’s right. I have a book that I need help translating.”

I smiled at my dad. Though I wasn’t sure if I should put so much faith in this
Grimoire to have the answer for breaking the family curse. I mean, it has been over two hundred years since it was cast. Surely our ancestors had not sat by peacefully allowing their first born daughters to die without trying to stop it.

“Three today will be perfect. Yes. I know the place. We’ll see you then.”

The phone call ended and Grandma returned to our side of the room. “Dodie and I have an errand to run. Will the three of you be okay while we are gone?”

“I think I should come with you.” Dad stood.

“I’m afraid not. She was very emphatic that we come alone.”

“I’m her father. I’m coming with you.”

“Dad, please, what if the woman won’t help us if we go against her wishes?”

“She’s right, Robert,” my mom said from the foyer doorway. “We can’t risk offending the woman when we are at her mercy to help us.”

“Glynis, we don’t even know if this person can do anything. Why should we put our faith in her?”

“Because we have no other choice.”

Brody returned from the kitchen, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” our parents said in unison.

“Yeah, right. So if we’re staying here tonight, do you mind if I take the car back into town? I met some guys and they invited me to shoot some hoops at the school with them.”

Dad nodded. “Sure. Just keep your phone on you so we can reach you and be back before it gets dark. This is an unfamiliar town. You don’t know your surroundings.”

“Sweet. Catch you later.”

When Brody was gone, Grandma took us upstairs and showed us where we’d be sleeping. Each bedroom was decorated with antique furniture and appeared to have been designed with each of us in mind. I smiled, wondering if Grandma wasn’t a little clairvoyant.

The four of us returned downstairs and Grandma got the Grimoire again.

“There’s plenty of food in the kitchen so help yourself. And don’t worry about Dodie and me. I can handle myself.”

“Gee, why doesn’t that make me feel safe?” My dad made a face, shaking his head.

“Don’t sass.”

Grandma and I headed to her car and she tossed me the keys, which surprised me. “Don’t just stand there gawking. You can drive, can’t you?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. I couldn’t take driver’s training class until next year.”

“Well that’s a pity. So neither Robert nor Glynis has ever taken you out to teach you on their own?”

“Not after they taught Brody. He wrecked mom’s car, running into a ditch, and messed up the underpinning. Dad said never again.”

Grandma shook her head. “Then I guess I’ll have to teach you myself, but not today. We have to meet Ambrielle at three.”

I tossed her the keys back, and we got into her sedan and headed across town.

 

Chapter Four

 

Ambrielle was a petite woman in her fifties with mocha colored skin, high cheekbones, and almond shaped eyes fringed with thick lashes. She lived on the north side of Franklin in a one story, four room house. It was oatmeal colored brick with a sprinkling of red and white; that style of brick always made me think of a gingerbread house for some reason. The windows and doorways were arched. I thought it had character and suited the woman.

She greeted us at the door wearing a hunter green tunic, matching leggings, and ballerina type slippers. Her hair, a mass of curls, held just a hint of gray on the tips and was tied back with a floral scarf. “You’re right on time. Come in. I just put on a pot of tea. Would you like a cup?”

“Thank you,” Grandma said, carrying the
Grimoire clutched to her chest. “This is my granddaughter, Dodie. She’s the one I mentioned earlier.”

“Uh-huh. Have a seat and I’ll be back with the tea.”

The room was filled with odd looking artifacts that I didn’t recognize. However, there was a dream catcher with feathers and crystals hanging in one window.

“So tell me more about this book you need translating? And Professor Simons really thought I could be of service?” Ambrielle asked coming back into the living room with a wooden tray laden with the tea set up.

“Yes, she did. I don’t know if it can help us in what we are searching for, but if you can read the writing in this book, maybe you can tell me if we are on the right path.”

“All I can do is try.” The woman poured the tea into three mugs and handed one to me and one to my grandmother. “But before I look at the book, can you tell me what trouble the young one is in? I sense a shroud of death following her. Her aura is black, meaning imminent death.”

I swallowed hard. Was that why I had been chilling all day? “Apparently I’m going to die in a month.”

“Yes, I see that, but not from an illness. How long have you been cursed?”

I swallowed again feeling like an open book and a little overwhelmed. I still wasn’t one hundred percent on board with this whole dying thing—though it felt more and more likely with every passing second.

“Before she was born.” Grandma set her cup on the coffee table. “It’s a family curse.”

Ambrielle picked up the discarded cup and swirled whatever liquid remained in it. She stared at it for a long time before she looked back up at us. “I see. And you think
I
have the answers for you? This goes way beyond the powers I possess. I’m a seer. Not a spell crafter.”

“Then perhaps you will see the answer to our problem within this book?”

“Let me see.”

Grandma passed her the book and she opened it up, gently turning the pages, running her free hand slowly down each before she turned to the next page.  She hummed softly as she flipped from page to page and then stopped. Her hand hovered over the page and she gasped, closing the book with a thud. “Where’d you get this?”

“I found it.”

“Take it.” Ambrielle shoved it toward Grandma. “I cannot help you with it. I’d suggest you not try any of those spells if you find one who practices. It will only bring you heartache.”

“B-but…we need you,” I cried out, jumping to my feet. The untouched tea sloshed over the side of the cup onto my hand and I hastily wiped it off on the leg of my jeans.

“What you need is something I can’t give you.” She handed me a napkin and our fingers touched, her pupils enlarged and her nostrils flared as she breathed. “The one who cast this curse was powerful. She made it for all times and only one as powerful could break it even if they knew how. I do not see you finding one with this power. I do not see you finding the answer you seek. I am sorry.”

I handed her the cup of tea and stumbled back into the chair. My breathing became labored as I took short, sporadic breaths, gasping for air as if I were suffocating.  My vision blurred, but there were no tears. The room spun and I became light headed.

“Dodie. Dodie.” I faintly heard my grandmother’s voice call, but then everything was silent.

 

 

Chapter Five

 

When I came around, I found myself lying in the softest bed. It was so comfortable and the sheets were so cool. I looked at my surroundings and saw I was back at Grandma’s in the room she’d shown me earlier. It was dark outside and the only source of light was a small table lamp on the other side of the room. A sheer blue cloth was draped over the shade to lessen the light.

I had no idea how I had gotten here. The last thing I recalled was visiting the seer Ambrielle. She’d given us bad news and I’d…fainted? No. I’d never done that before. I remembered not being able to breathe well. Had I hyperventilated? Causing me to pass out? Maybe.

In the distance I heard raised voices. Were my parents arguing again? No, not just my parents. I heard my grandmother’s voice too.

I pushed the covers off and slowly sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I no longer wore my jeans and t-shirt, but someone had put me into a satin night gown that was a little long even for my height. My feet were bare and the coolness of the hardwood flooring felt nice as I walked as softly as I could, not to be overheard, toward the sound of the voices. Opening the bedroom door the voices were even louder and I knew they were down the hallway, maybe even downstairs in the living room.

The upstairs rooms were empty and I wondered where Brody was. Hadn’t my father told him to be back before dark?

“Okay, mother, then what do you suggest?” My father’s raised voice clearly showed his frustration. “Your own source said she cannot help you. How do you propose to find someone else?”

“I don’t know, but I am not going to give up. I still have hope.”

Hope? She was still clinging to hope? What about the warning that Ambrielle had given us not to seek another? Why hadn’t Grandma mentioned that to my parents?

I slowly crept down the stairs a few steps and sat down to listen. I leaned my forehead against the cool wooden spindles on the banister and waited for the conversation to continue.

“What about the professor you contacted at the university?” My mom’s voice sounded calm and I could tell she was trying to be rational.

“I don’t know. Professor Simons said this woman Ambrielle was the best in the area at languages; however, she refused to help. But I will contact the professor again Monday morning.”

“And what do we do until then? Wait?” I could see my dad pacing back and forth in front of the sofa.

“Unless you have a better idea, Robert?”

I smiled at my grandmother’s response. She had a way of putting the situation back on him that I knew neither my mother nor I could muster.

The front door opened and Brody walked in. He saw me and frowned. I put a finger to my lips hoping he would not give away my hiding spot.

“Brody,” my father called not sounding happy. I had a feeling my brother was about to get the brunt of my dad’s frustrations and it had little to do with the fact he’d come home late.

“Uh, yeah, dad?” My brother slinked toward the living room doorway.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” he asked, but didn’t give Brody time to answer. “Didn’t I tell you to be home before dark? I know you have a later curfew at home, but we’re in a strange town. You don’t know the roads around here. And if you were to get lost or have an accident we’d not be able to find you.”

“Chill, dad. I’m here safe and sound, aren’t I?”

I covered my face with my hands not believing what I had heard. Tonight was not the night for Brody to take that attitude. Not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation, I slowly rose and crept back up to my room. Shutting the door and scurrying back to the safety of the four poster canopy bed. I still heard the raised voices from below, but at least I could cover my head up with the downy comforter and enjoy the feel of the cool bed.

I must have drifted off to sleep again because when I opened my eyes the morning light streamed in through the window. Delicious smells wafted upstairs from the kitchen. Coffee was brewing, bacon was frying, and was that pancakes or waffles I smelled?

I pushed the covers off and sprang from the bed, picking up the long gown so I didn’t get my feet tangled in its length as I took the stairs two at a time. Grandma was alone in the kitchen, standing at the stove flipping pancakes. A copper pot sat on the small burner and something bubbled within.

“Good morning, Dodie. Did you sleep well?”

“Uh huh. What’s in that pot?”

“Maple syrup. I make it myself. Why don’t you go get showered and changed for church. I left a clean towel and washcloth in the bathroom for you and if you open up the closet in your room, you’ll find a few dresses to choose from.”

“Church?”

She nodded. “You do go, don’t you?”

I shook my head. “We haven’t been since I was little.”

“Really? Do you know why?”

I shook my head again. “I think dad started having more and more meetings at the bank or something. At least that’s what I seem to recall. We went without him at first, but then mom stopped going.”

“Well we shall all go together, today. Hurry along while I finish making breakfast.”

I did as she asked and passed a yawning Brody on the stairs. “We’re going to church so you need to get showered.”

“What?”

“Grandma says we’re going to church with her today.”

“But I made plans.”

“With who?”

“The guys I was shooting hoops with last night.”

“And you think dad will let you go off with them again today after you came home late last night?”

He gave me a look of disgust and went on down the stairs, ignoring my warning.

I hurried into the bathroom and showered, enjoying the fragrance of the body wash and the shampoo. After drying off I stared at my reflection in the large mirror that hung over the antique vanity. I was less than thirty days from turning sixteen and my body still looked boyish except for the tiny peaks that were my breasts. I still wore what the sales clerk had called a training bra. And now I guess that is the size I will stay.

Sighing, I opened the bottom of the vanity in search of a smaller towel to dry my hair with, but found a hand held hair dryer and a hot curler set instead. There was also a small caddy of brushes, combs, styling gels and hair spray.

I plugged in the curlers and wrapped the large towel around my body before going back into the bedroom to look in the closet for the dresses she’d said were there. Dresses had never been my style, but I was willing to try new things at the moment. I wanted to experience the most I could in the next thirty days.

Opening up the double closet doors, I sucked in my breath at the array of clothes hanging there for me to choose from. She’d said there were dresses, and there were, but there were also slacks, blouses, sweaters and accessories. Hats, scarves, and shoes—flats, heels, boots. And all were in my size. How could she have possibly known?

Stunned, I opened up the drawers of the dresser and found underthings—silk panties, not cotton; slips, camisoles, and matching lace bras, real bras, not just trainers. Another drawer contained hosiery, leggings, and tights. The third drawer down contained pajama sets, night gowns and shorty PJs.

I couldn’t believe it. All these things were for me. Was Brody’s room stocked as well? I hoped not. I hoped that Grandma had done this all just for me to make up for the years we’d been kept apart.

Selecting undergarments from the selection had never been so fun. I let the towel fall to the floor and I slipped the panties on, then put on the matching bra before going over to the closet to decide on which dress to wear. I pulled out a red ribbed fitted sweater dress with a matching red ribbon sash. Slipping it over my head I smoothed it into place and noticed the hem came to above my knee.

The selection of shoes was great, but heels were out of the question. I had never worn a pair and I did not want to give the curse the opportunity to snuff out my candle early by having me fall down the stairs and break my neck. So I went with a pair of black sling back flats with a bow at the heel. I also chose a pair of sheer pantyhose to wear before I went back into the bathroom to blow my hair dry and curl it.

Everyone was already seated at the dining room table when I came down the stairs. Brody dropped his fork causing it to clatter against the side of his plate. Dad stood up, dropping his napkin in the floor. Mom swiveled around in her chair and covered her mouth with her hand, blinking several times to keep from crying. Grandma beamed.

I knew I looked different, but the way my family was reacting made me feel self-conscious. “Stop staring.”

“Dodie, you look amazing,” Grandma said. “Come eat before it gets cold.”

I hurried to take my place beside my brother. “Do I look hideous?”

“No, darling, you look like a young woman,” mom said. “Where did you get that dress?”

“I bought it for her. It’s an early birthday present.” Grandma took a sip of her coffee. “Let’s all eat up. We don’t want to be late for church.”

“Church?” My dad’s face paled. “Mother, we don’t attend church anymore.”

“Yes, Dodie mentioned that earlier, but she really didn’t know why. Today we are going together. It’s important for me to have you at the service.”

“I’d planned on us leaving after breakfast to get back home. I have a meeting tomorrow that I need to prepare for,” my dad explained.

“But I made plans to get together with the guys again today. You never said anything about us leaving first thing this morning,” Brody protested.

“I got all dressed up to go to church. I even curled my hair. Come on, dad. Can’t we stay and go with Grandma? It’s only a two-hour drive home.”

“It would be a shame not to go, Robert,” my mom said softly. “You don’t really have a meeting to prepare for. Isn’t it time we stop making excuses for why we don’t go anymore?”

“We only have the clothes we wore here.”

Grandma set her coffee cup on the table. “Actually, if you open up the closets in your rooms you’ll find clothes for today.”

Dad threw down his napkin and left the room, not bothering to finish his breakfast. Mom pushed her chair back. “What time should we be ready?”

“Service begins at ten so we need to leave around nine-thirty.”

“We’ll be ready.” Mom looked at my brother. “Brody, finish eating and then go get changed.”

“Doesn’t it matter that I made plans?”

Grandma reached over and patted his hand. “Those boys will be at church this morning, mark my words.”

BOOK: Bittersweet Sixteen (A Dodie Jenks Novel)
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