Authors: E.L. Sarnoff
“How’s Elz doing?” I ask Winnie while the children are off searching for clues on their scavenger hunt. The two of us are seated at a small wrought iron table in our garden, sharing some wine. A celebration of our friendship.
“She’s much stronger. She wants to get back to work, but Rump and I both told her that she needs to rest.”
Rest is not part of Elz’s vocabulary. She’s a workaholic. And frankly, getting back to work might just be the medicine she needs to get her mind off her miscarriage.
The unmistakable sound of a child crying cuts our conversation short. We exchange an alarmed look, fearing the worst. Something terrible has happened to one of the children!
Hansel is running toward us. His flushed freckled face is almost the color of his hair, and tears are streaming down his cheeks. Winnie leaps to her feet, her own freckled face blanching. My heart hammers as the child buries his face against his mother.
“What happened, my sweet boy?” asks Winnie. Her voice is bordering on panic.
“I asked Calla to marry me,” he blubbers. “And she said no.”
Winnie and I exchange a quick glance and a sigh. I personally don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Winnie may feel the same, but she draws her son close to her and gently wipes away his tears.
“My poor little man.” She gives him a hug.
“Mama, she wouldn’t even take the love bracelet that I had Rump make for her.” Still sniffling, he pulls it out of one of his knickers pockets and flings it to the ground. “She told me she’s in love with some prince named Henry.”
I pick it up and hand it back to him.
“I think you should hold on to this.” Compassion swells inside me. I know what it’s like to have your heart broken. “Calla may one day find out that Henry is not the prince she hoped for.”
Hansel gazes up at me with his hazel brown eyes. They’re so soulful. So beyond his years. “Auntie Jane, do you really think there’s a chance that Calla might love me one day?”
I nod with a smile and ruffle his wavy ginger hair with my hand. “Honestly, I do.”
He stares at the bracelet in his hand and then slips it back into his pocket.
“I won the scavenger hunt!” It’s Calla. Hansel smiles at the sight of her, filled with renewed hope. She’s skipping toward us, holding Gretel’s hand. Chubby Curly trails behind them, trying hard to keep up.
“What’s my prize?” Calla asks eagerly. My sweet little girl is so competitive, much like me. “And where’s Papa?” She gives me a long searching look.
Gallant.
Where the hell is he? Rage sweeps through me. Not so much because he’s blown off another one of Calla’s birthday parties, but because I know he’s with her. The tramp. His Sleeping Beauty.
Winnie stops me from letting my imagination go wild. “Let’s open presents!” she insists.
The children race over to a stone bench where a pile of presents is scattered. They’re all beautifully wrapped. Except for mine. What can I tell you? I’m the world’s worst wrapper, and doing things last minute was no help.
Calla immediately reaches for the biggest box. It’s about the length of one of my outstretched arms and exquisitely wrapped with pink princess-themed paper and a humongous matching bow. I’m sure it’s from Winnie.
Calla eagerly tears off the paper and opens the box. Under sheets of delicate pale pink tissue paper is the most magnificent gown I’ve ever seen. At least for a young girl. It’s a confection of ivory tulle, accented with a large sash and tiny hand-sewn roses—exactly the color of Calla’s rosebud lips. It must have cost a small fortune. Calla holds it up and gasps.
“You shouldn’t have spent so much money,” I whisper to Winnie.
“I didn’t,” she replies. “That’s not from me.”
What? Calla finds a note inside the box and reads it aloud.
My Darling Calla~
I hope you love your new dress. Happy Birthday!
Love and kisses~
Aurora
Love and kisses, Aurora!
I snatch the note out of Calla’s hand and read it for myself. It’s her! I’d recognize that distinctive flowery handwriting anywhere. Every nerve in my body is sizzling. I’m going to implode!
Calla slips the dress over what she’s wearing and twirls around. “Oh Mommy, isn’t it the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen?”
“How did Aurora know what to get you?” I stammer. All I want to do is tear the dress off her and shred it into pieces. Winnie reads my mind and steps hard on my foot.
Calla waltzes around the garden in the gorgeous dress. “Papa took me The Trove to one of his meetings with her.”
Gallant has already introduced her to the slut? A giant lump forms in my throat. I can hardly swallow. Or breathe.
“We walked around the mall, and I saw this dress in the window of Forever Princess. I really, really wanted it. But Papa said ‘no’ because it was too expensive.”
Calla holds out the layers of tulle and gazes down at the dress in awe. “I can’t believe Aurora bought it for me!”
“What does she look like?” I snap. Winnie steps on my foot again, even harder, but it’s too late.
“She’s so beautiful,” beams Calla.
“What color hair?” I can’t get the words out fast enough.
“She has the prettiest hair in the whole wide world. It’s blond and super long.”
She sounds just like the tramp that was at Sparkles!
“Let’s open more presents,” urges Winnie, trying desperately to change the subject. Forget it! I want to know more!
“What is she like?”
“She is sooo nice!” replies Calla, dreamily.
Nice! I hate nice
. I hate the homewrecker even more.
“When I turn thirteen, she’s going to take me shopping at her store, Aurora’s Secret, and let me pick out anything I want!”
What! The child molester is going to turn
my
daughter into a slut?
“Aurora says I’m almost like a daughter to her!”
Almost like a daughter to her?
The words whirl around in my head and sicken me. I clutch my stomach. It’s only a matter of time. Gallant is going to marry Aurora. And I’m going to lose Calla!
Calla skips back to the bench. “Mommy, which one is your present?” She gazes up at me. “Are you okay? You look sick.”
“I’m fine.” Am I kidding? I may not make it through this day.
Trembling, I hand her my pathetically wrapped present. She tears it open and looks at it blankly.
“It’s a book of fairy tales by my editor, Charles Perrault. They’re written in French. I thought you’d like to read them.”
She shrugs and then tosses the book back on the bench without even a kiss or a
merci.
She hates it! Why shouldn’t she! It was a thoughtless, last minute gift—a leftover from some children’s book fair I attended—and can’t compare to the magnificent dress from Aurora.
Her new mommy!
Desperation overtakes me. “Maybe, you’d like to read the stories to Lady Jane.”
Calla shoots me an indignant wide-eyed look. “
Mon dieu!
I’m going on ten now. I can’t play with dolls anymore!”
My heart sinks. She no longer loves her treasured doll. The very first gift I bought her. Up until now, they’ve been inseparable.
“Face it, Jane,” a voice inside my head snickers. “It’s not even just the book she hates. She’s done with you!” I fight back the tears that threaten to rush down my face.
“Look, there’s Gallant.” Winnie tugs at my sleeve and points his way. He’s dismounting his white steed and holding a large straw basket in his right hand.
My heart pounds and my legs wobble. The thought of his pending marriage to Aurora is all too much for me. My whole world is coming apart. I grip Winnie’s arm for support as he strides toward us.
“Papa!” screams Calla with joy. “Is that my present you’ve got?”
“Yes, my sweet princess” replies Gallant, taking faster, longer steps. “Please forgive me for being so late. I have been working around the clock.”
Dragon dung! He’s bursting with radiant energy. Not like a man who’s been working 24-7. More like someone who’s just had the best all-night sex in his life. I want to puke.
“What is it?” ask Calla full of excitement. She opens the lid of the basket and peeks inside. She shrieks.
“It’s a puppy!”
What! That cheating asshole got her a puppy! The one thing in life that Calla’s wanted as much as a little brother or sister. Well, almost. We were supposed to pick out one all together. From The Queen’s rescue sanctuary. Why did Gallant do this to me?
Calla holds the little dog in her arms. He’s mostly white except for a bandit-like black mask around his eyes and a heart-shaped brown marking on his backside. He wags his tail and licks her face. Reminiscent of my beloved childhood rescue Bambi, he’s the cutest pup I’ve ever seen.
“He looks just like Aurora’s dog, Beauty!” exclaims Calla.
Aurora’s dog?
Okay, taking her to the mall was one thing. But taking an innocent little girl to the house of his mistress is another. How could he be so indiscreet! Bile rushes to the back of my throat.
The swine chuckles. “Aurora didn’t want to tell you that Beauty recently had a litter. We kept it a secret.”
Gulp! They’re already a “we.” In no time, they’ll be the perfect family, dogs and all. A giant wave of nausea washes over me. I can’t help it. I puke. Winnie grips my trembling hand. And I puke again.
“Jane, are you okay?” asks Gallant, making a face of disgust. He despises me.
“She’s looked sick all day,” chimes in Calla. She doesn’t even call me “mommy.”
“Calla’s right,” I mumble. “I must be coming down with something.” I wipe my forehead. I’m feverish. I’ve got to lie down.
As I stagger back inside the house, Calla makes an announcement.
“I’m going to name him Secret.”
Like in Aurora’s Secret. And Gallant’s.
I don’t know how my legs manage to get me to my bed.
Once inside my private chamber, I crawl into bed and shiver under the thick down duvet. Waves of nausea come and go. My distended stomach spasms. It’s as if someone’s trapped inside and pounding the wall to get out. Maybe, I’m
really
sick.
A loud knock sounds at the door. For a wishful moment, I think it’s Gallant. He’s come to check in on me because he’s concerned about my health. Because he loves me so much. And couldn’t live without me. I
must
be delusional with fever.
The door swing opens. It’s Winnie. She’s holding a tray with a tea caddy and cup. Her presence warms me like a blanket.
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” She sets the tray next to me on the bed. “I made you some chamomile tea. Have some.”
I smile weakly. It’s just like Winnie to check in on me. My mind flashes back to the time at Faraway she brought me tea after my near-death escape. I knew then what a wonderful mother she was. And friend.
She puts a palm to my forehead. “I don’t think you have temperature. That’s good.”
But I’m burning up inside. My life as I know it is about to be over.
Managing to sit up, I sip the tea that Winnie’s poured for me. It’s soothing and actually lessens my nausea.
Winnie plumps up some pillows behind me. “Jane, I know you don’t want to hear this. But I’ve thought a lot about everything you’ve told me. Just because Gallant met Aurora at Sparkles, bought her a dress, and gave Calla a puppy from her dog’s litter, still doesn’t mean they’re having an affair.”
I sigh. Here we go again. What about Lalaland and the sketch of the tramp practically naked? Sleeping Nudie! The truth is, I’m too weary to fight her, and I don’t want to destroy our friendship again. I just don’t know what it’ll take to prove I’m right about the two of them. And then, it comes to me.
“Winnie, what was the name of the private investigator you hired to follow John?”
“She goes by the name, The Potato Sack Princess.”
I take another sip of the tea and immediately feel a lot better. What I have to do is catch Gallant sleeping with the beauty. Except I’m not going to be the one to do it.
Chapter 15
I
N THE MORNING, WARM, WET flutter kisses awaken me. Gallant? I snap open my eyes and find Secret in my face.
Okay. Confession. I left the door ajar after Winnie left. Hoping that Gallant would, at least, check on me. Wishful thinking. He didn’t. A wrenching pain stabs me in the gut. I have to face the truth. He’s over me
. So
over me. Despite his despicable auspices, the little dog’s unconditional love is the one bright spot in my sea of gloom.
The pup follows me as I stumble out of bed and manage to get dressed. Though I’m still nauseated, I have no time to waste. I’ve got to track down that private investigator. Dragonballs! What’s her name?
Think, Jane, think. The Paper Bag Princess?
“There you are, you naughty boy! I’ve been looking all over for you!”
Calla darts into my bedroom. She scoops up Secret and smothers him with kisses. She doesn’t ask how I’m feeling. Or call me “mommy.”
“Hurry,” she says impatiently. “Grampy’s waiting for us. Remember, he promised to take me fishing for my birthday.”
I totally forgot Calla has a day off from school due to a teacher conference, and we are spending it with my father. Stinky fish. Slimy worms. Patience. I’ll have to put my search for that private investigator on hold. Another wave of nausea washes over me and then more gut wrenching pain. I run to the bathroom.