When I opened my eyes, I was standing on a wooden front porch facing a white screen door. I didn’t know where I was, but hoped it was my new home.
I looked up. A mosquito buzzed and banged against the glass shade covering the hazy yellow porch light. The insect seemed lost and confused.
I knew exactly how it felt.
I glanced around and inspected my surroundings. From what I could tell, whoever lived here loved ceramic pigs and either spent a considerable amount of time perfecting their front lawn and white roses, or paid someone to do it for them.
Exhausted, I was tempted to crawl onto the wooden porch swing and wait until morning to ring the doorbell.
I had no idea how I ended up here. I remembered leaving Wonderland and stepping into a sea of darkness. It seemed like only a split second had passed before I had arrived here.
I have no idea what time it is. Should I knock? Ring the bell? Run away?
I pressed down on the metal handle of the screen door and it clicked. I pulled it open and knocked on the front door. I heard footsteps approaching.
The door opened. “Destiny?” It was Clark. He had a dish towel draped over one shoulder. He was wearing a pair of gray sweats and a faded Violent Femmes concert T-shirt. His brown hair was messy. I was tempted to reach out and smooth it back down into place. I could hear a television on somewhere in the distance and the familiar voice of Alex Trebek.
I tried unsuccessfully to hide my relief I was in the right place. I beamed at him like a dork.
Great. It’s your first night here and already they’re going to think you’re high or drunk—or both. Stop smiling, you idiot.
“It’s good to see you,” I said. “It’s been a while.”
He gave me a strange look. “You don’t have to knock,” he said with a soft smile.
I reached for the knob on the front door and jiggled it. “No?”
I could hear the concern in his voice. “No…you live here now,” he said. “This is your home, too.”
I felt nervous and weird. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I slid them into the front pockets of my sweatshirt. “I didn’t want to…bother you,” I offered.
He stepped aside, opened the door wider, and gestured from me to come in. I took a step and entered my new home. I could tell my uncles had lived there for a long time. The two-story house wasn’t cluttered, but it wasn’t exactly organized either.
Clark touched my arm. “Are you okay?”
I looked into his friendly eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “Just…really tired. Long day.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, if you need to talk…”
I was tempted to hug him. I wanted him to hug me back and tell me I was okay. That what I’d just experienced in a place called Wonderland wasn’t some drug-induced hallucination, and I wasn’t insane.
“That’s super sweet, but I’m cool,” I said.
He shut the door behind us and turned the deadbolt. “Hungry?” he asked.
I inhaled deeply. The house smelled like a comforting combination of home-cooked food, cinnamon, and fresh-cut flowers. “I’m starving, actually,” I confessed.
He looked surprised. “Tasha didn’t feed you?”
Oh my God…Tasha. Where was she? And Topher? Did they stay at Wonderland? I’m a horrible friend for leaving them behind. They’re gonna hate me already.
“No,” I said, hoping my sudden panic didn’t show. “I had some tea earlier.”
“Hot tea?”
I nodded. “Peppermint tea.”
“Wow,” he said. “I used to drink that in college.”
“I forgot my watch,” I explained. “And I need to get a cell phone. What time is it?”
“It’s almost eight,” he answered.
“I was worried I was going to be late.”
“Your Uncle Fred will be happy you’re home. He’ll never admit it, but he was worried about you,” he said. “You can go in and say hi to him if you want, while I warm you up a plate of food. He’s in the living room. He’s probably still high.”
I blinked at his words. “What?”
Clark laughed a little. “He loves Vanna White. He’s obsessed with her,” he explained, grinning. “For an hour after the show’s over, he’s high on love.”
“Vanna White?” I repeated. “Really?”
“I’ve put up with it for years,” Clark said. “If he were straight, I’d be worried. I take comfort in the fact that I make him watch Jeopardy with me and I swoon over Alex Trebek every chance I get, just to even the score.”
“You guys are adorable,” I said.
Clark gestured toward the living room with his thumb. “Go tell Sir Frederic that. Maybe he’ll believe you. He thinks he’s old.”
“Um…he is,” I said, still grinning like a fool. “That’s why I’m happy he has you…I mean, us.”
Clark disappeared to the kitchen. I walked into the living room. I found my uncle buried beneath a tattered quilt in a brown leather recliner. I recognized the shoddy craftsmanship immediately.
“Did my grandmother make that quilt for you?” I asked. Each time she visited us in Chicago, she would always bring us samples of her latest craft craze. We’d had closets full of quilts, embroidered pillows, macramé plant holders, scrapbooks, creepy dolls, and crocheted blankets.
Uncle Fred looked up at me. “She did, actually,” he said. “She thought she was…domestic.”
“But she really wasn’t,” I said. “We all just let her think she was. Whenever Grandma came to see us in Chicago, my mom did everything in her power to keep Grandma away from the stove. I think she was worried the apartment might catch on fire.”
Uncle Fred smiled at me. I thought of my mother. They had similar features. I knew they hadn’t been close. I didn’t really know why. I’d never thought to ask. “Exactly,” he said. “I keep this quilt because it’s all I have left of her.”
I sat down on a brown leather sofa. I thought about taking off my sandals. My feet were killing me. “Do you miss her?” I asked.
His eyes shifted back to the television. “I miss everyone,” he said. “I’ve lost a lot of people.”
I leaned back into the sofa, feeling my body start to relax. A hot shower was calling my name. Just as soon as I devoured a plate of whatever it was that smelled so amazing in the kitchen.
I looked at my uncle, studying his profile. I wondered what he looked like without a mustache. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him without one.
I wanted to tell him he didn’t need to wear the silly-looking toupée. He should just accept aging gracefully and go au naturel.
My eyes drifted down to his hands. They looked weathered.
“How many people have you lost?” I heard myself ask.
He shrugged slightly, as if his shoulders were heavy. “More than I care to count,” he said. “Be happy you’re still young, Destiny.”
“I miss her, too,” I said. “Grandma…and my mom.”
Uncle Fred was silent for a moment before he spoke. He cleared his throat and said, “I know this has to be hard on you. You’ve had one heckuva tough time.”
“It’s not that bad,” I said, surprised by the tears filling my eyes. “Being here with you and Clark.”
“I want you to feel like this is your home,” he said. “I want you to love Avalon Cove just as much as we do.”
I thought about Wonderland, and all the strange, unexplainable things I’d encountered there. I wanted to know more about Adrianna Marveaux. Had my time there been real? A dream? Some weird illusion? Was I going crazy?
I wanted to meet Dominic since he and I were perfect for each other—according to almost everyone I’d met during my first day in South Carolina.
I made a mental note to remind myself to ask Clark to take me dress shopping tomorrow. If the dinner party Adrianna was planning really was in my honor, I wanted to look my best.
“I think I’m really going to like it here,” I told Uncle Fred. “With time.”
He fell silent again for a few seconds. “I was surprised…about your mother’s will…about Clark and I becoming your legal guardians.”
I stood up then. I went to his chair. I bent down. I kissed my uncle’s cheek. “I’m not,” I whispered to him. “My mother knew exactly where I belonged.”
*
Are you kidding me?
That was my initial thought when I saw my new attic-converted bedroom. Everything except the carpet was pink.
Clark, who was standing behind me in the doorway, must’ve read my mind. I felt his palm, reassuring and gentle, land delicately between my shoulder blades.
“You have to forgive your uncle,” he said. “He still thinks you’re seven. And I secretly suspect he’s always wanted a little girl.”
“It’s sweet,” I said with as much sincerity as I could muster.
I felt like I was standing in the middle of a giant wad of bubble gum.
“You hate it, don’t you?” Clark asked.
I moved toward the pink canopy bed and sat down on the edge of the pink satin bedspread. I glanced down at the pink pillows. The cases were embroidered with glittery words like “diva” and “princess.” I was neither. Couldn’t they tell?
“No…it’s nice,” I said, too tired to fake a smile. “Really.”
“We can change it,” he offered. “Together.”
“Okay,” I nodded, hoping my mini-burst of enthusiasm didn’t show. “When?”
“This weekend?”
“Sure,” I agreed.
“We can make it a little more…”
“Subtle?” I suggested.
He laughed a little. “You poor thing,” he said. “You’ll probably have nightmares sleeping in this room.”
“No worries,” I said, picking up one of a dozen stuffed animals. “I have this unicorn to keep me safe.” My eyes moved to an electric socket in the wall. “And a Tinker Bell night-light in case I get scared.”
“He means well.”
“I know,” I said. “And I appreciate it. I guess…it’ll just take some time for the three of us to get to know each other better. We’re not strangers—”
“But we might as well be,” Clark finished.
“You won me over with the meatloaf,” I confessed. “Where’d you learn to cook like that?”
“Once upon a time I had dreams of going to culinary school,” he told me.
“So, what happened?”
He leaned against the door frame and folded his arms across his chest. “Your Uncle Fred happened,” he answered. “From the first night I spent in Avalon Cove, I knew this was where I needed to be. This was the life I wanted.”
I kicked off my sandals and wiggled my toes. I didn’t know what to say to Clark. All I could come up with was: “Oh.”
He stepped further in the room. I followed his eyes up to the slanted ceilings. I wondered how long it would be before I ended up with a concussion. One wrong leap out of bed and I’d be knocked out cold.
“I think we forgot how tall you are,” he said.
“Maybe it’s my fault,” I offered. “I was wearing flats at the funeral.”
“He thought you’d like it up here better. More privacy.”
“So this isn’t a ploy to lock me away in the attic?” I asked, smiling. “Should I change my name to what’s-her-face from Jane Eyre?”
“I don’t know who that is,” Clark answered. “But you have a private staircase and most importantly…” He moved to a closed door and, in his best Vanna White impression, flung it open. “A private bathroom!”
“That makes it all worth it,” I said. “I feel like I just won something.”
“I’ll let you get settled in,” he told me. He leaned down and his soft lips brushed across my cheek. The sensation made my skin tingle. “Sweet dreams, Destiny.”
Within seconds Clark was gone, leaving me alone in my pink-ensconced solitude.
I turned toward the window beside my bed. I pulled back a pink chiffon curtain and stared down at the front lawn, the ceramic pigs, and the white roses, sleeping in the dull glow of the misty porch light.
This view was so different from the brick wall my bedroom window in Chicago faced. Even though I was happy to be in Avalon Cove and life seemed like it would be okay for me there, I was already homesick.
I thought about calling Samantha, but remembered I had no cell phone.
I thought about creeping down the private staircase to the kitchen and tiptoeing to the den where I could jump on Clark’s laptop just to find out what the rest of the world was doing, since everything in mine was changing by the second.
Instead I just sat on the bed clutching a synthetic unicorn in my arms like I was some sad orphan left in the care of torturous nuns.
Finally, I broke out of my cocoon of self-pity, stood up, and poked my head into the bathroom.
“Yes!” I said, feeling victorious for the first time since I’d stepped off the plane.
The bathroom was straight out of an old movie. It had a clawfoot tub, marble sink, black and white tiled floor, and a small window offering a shoreline view.
Immediately I began making a mental shopping list. I needed candles. I needed bubble bath. I needed about two weeks alone in this glorious bathroom, hidden away from the world.
I pulled back the shower curtain, reached for the silver X-shaped knobs, and turned the water on. Just the sound of it made my body relax. Within seconds, steam drifted up into my face. I felt the tension in my shoulder blades vanish.
I went back to the bedroom, unzipped a suitcase, dug out an oversized T-shirt and a pair of clean underwear, and returned to my newly discovered oasis. I swept my hand across the steam-covered mirror and almost shrieked at the sight of my reflection. I looked beyond hideous. I had dark circles under my eyes. My mascara was slightly smeared. My hair was such a mess and my ponytail was so crooked, I looked like I should be on my way to rehab.
Seconds later, I sank into the porcelain tub of hot water and was overwhelmed by the instant tranquility I felt. Immediately, I closed my eyes.
If only I had some Adele or Duffy to listen to, this moment would be perfect.
Visions of my first day in Avalon Cove started flashing through my mind, like a revolving slide show of postcards. The Magic Mansion and its strange spaceship shape. Tasha and her pastel purple fingernails. Hiding with Topher in the cement tunnel in the park. Adrianna Marveaux’s platinum hair and glittery cheeks. My mother’s feet on the stairs.
I knew it was her. I could sense it. I felt it the second I saw her jazz shoes and the pleats in her favorite skirt.
Maybe that’s why Adrianna had been so quick to make me leave. For some reason, she didn’t want me to see my mother.
But how could that be possible? How could my mother be a new guest at Wonderland?
She was dead.
*
“I know the perfect place to take you,” Clark told me the next morning while we were sitting at the kitchen table. He gave the piece of toast he was holding a slight shake and crumbs drifted down to his plate.
I swallowed a mouthful of pancakes before reminding him, “It has to be cobalt blue.”
He nodded. “I remember seeing a dress that color in the store window last week at Bettina’s. It’s a boutique. Cute place. Wacky owner,” he said. He looked at me. “Why that color? I mean, with your skin tone you could get away with wearing any shade—but cobalt blue? That’s so…specific.”
He was right. This wasn’t Prom or Homecoming. I wasn’t trying to color-coordinate my dress with my date’s tie or cummerbund.
“I think the dinner party has a theme,” I said quickly, eyes on my plate. “I just…really want to make a good first impression…since I’ll be living here now.”
Adrianna had been right. Just as she’d told me he would, Clark knew exactly where to take me to buy the dress.
“Look at you,” he said, grinning. “Haven’t even been in town yet for twenty-four hours and you’ve already got an invitation to a dinner party. The next thing we know, you’ll be a debutante.”
I reached for my orange juice. “Don’t count on it.”
“I’m sorry Fred couldn’t have breakfast with us this morning.”
“Where is Sir Frederic?” I asked.
“At the bank,” Clark said. “Trying to get another business loan.”
“For the Magic Mansion?”
Clark looked away. I followed his eyes to a calendar thumbtacked to the kitchen wall. Was there a deadline looming? “We’re hopeful,” he said.
“Is business that bad?” I asked.
He turned back and offered me a reassuring smile. “Everything will work out,” he said, trying to convince us both. “It always does.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
He pushed his plate of toast crumbs away. “Yes,” he said. “Forget I even mentioned it and have a great time at the dinner party tonight.”
I nodded. “Deal.”
“Who did you say invited you?”
“Her name is Adrianna Marveaux.”
Clark’s eyes grew wide at first as if I’d said something that startled him. When he realized I was watching him, he shifted his focus and stared off in the distance as if trying to picture who she was. “That name sounds familiar.”
“It does to me, too,” I told him. “I swear I’ve heard it before.”
“How is it that I don’t know this woman?” he wondered aloud. “Avalon Cove is a really small place.”
“I think she owns the boarding house,” I explained. “The one on Lewis Lane.”
He gave me a strange look. “Destiny, there’s no boarding house on Lewis Lane. Or anywhere on the island, for that matter.”
“At the very end of the block,” I said.
“Are you talking about that old, decaying house?”
Uh-oh. He thinks you’re insane. And, you probably are. Why can’t you keep your ginormous mouth shut?
I looked at my fingernails. Maybe Tasha would loan me some of her pastel purple polish. “I think so,” I said with a small shrug.
“I think that place is abandoned,” Clark said. “No one’s lived there for as long as I can remember. I’d stay away from there, if I were you. It could be dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Clark’s words hung in the air. I knew there was a hidden message floating in them somewhere. But why? What was he really trying to tell me? Did he know something about Wonderland?
I stood up and picked up my plate. “Maybe I wrote the address down wrong,” I said. I moved toward the sink.
Clark sounded curious, a little suspicious, even. “Did you already go there?” he asked. “Did you go inside?”
I reached for the hot water knob. I didn’t want to lie to Clark. I couldn’t.
“Tasha and Topher…” I started to say. I stopped, hoping the right words would come to me.
The telephone on the kitchen wall rang. Clark stood up and reached for the receiver.
I exhaled a sigh of relief and concentrated on rinsing the rings of sticky maple syrup off my plate.
*
I was standing next to Clark on the sidewalk, staring at a dark-haired mannequin in the front window of Bettina’s. We were each holding to-go cups of peppermint tea, sipping occasionally. The hot liquid and the heavy humidity were making me sweat.
And it wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning yet.
Thankfully, I’d dressed more sensibly than I had yesterday. I was wearing a thin button-up blouse, shorts, and sandals. Still, the air was suffocating. Even with my hair up in a ponytail, it felt like a constant stream of sweat was sliding down my spine.
“That’s it,” Clark told me, tapping his index finger on the glass. I looked at him, noticing tiny beads of perspiration above his lip. He was hot in more than one way. My uncle was such a lucky guy. Clark was definitely out of his league. “That’s the dress.”
I nodded in agreement. It was a strapless cobalt blue vintage-style dress with a sweetheart neckline, with a poofy crinoline petticoat. It was straight out of one of those corny 50s movies about teenaged heartache. My grandmother adored Connie Francis and claimed to be her biggest fan. I knew she would’ve been proud. “What if it looks better on her than it does on me?” I worried, gesturing to the perfectly posed mannequin who looked at least two sizes smaller than me.
“Well,” he said, slipping his arm through mine, “there’s only one way to find out.”
He led me into the air-conditioned boutique. High-energy dance music pumping out of huge overhead speakers assaulted our ears. I blinked, wanting the noise to go away. Was this a dress shop or a nightclub?
The place was cramped with overflowing racks of vintage clothes, purses, scarves, hats, sunglasses, and shoes, and what seemed like a mile-long display case of costume jewelry. Incense smoke floated in the air, filling our lungs with the sweet and sticky smell of strawberries.
“Who’s this?” a cigarette-strained voice half shouted over the raucous. I turned in the direction from which the voice had come.
“Wow,” I heard myself say.
“Bettina, this is my…” Clark stopped. He looked at me, confused and cautious.
“I’m his illegitimate daughter,” I said, just to see the reaction it provoked. His eyes widened. His cheeks paled. But the pink-haired, pierced, and tattooed Bettina curled her lips into a sneer I assumed was her attempt at a smile.
“Just kidding,” I said with what I hoped was a Girl Scout grin and a giggle to match. “I’m his niece.”
She flashed me a look of disappointment. “His niece, huh?” she said. “I liked it better when you were a love child.”
“Me, too!” I answered, shouting to make myself heard. “And you must be the secret daughter of Joan Jett.”
She sneered again, lifted her arm, and pointed a remote control at the sound system mounted on one of the walls. The music died. My ears were still ringing. “Nice try, kid,” she said. “I’m Bettina. I own this place.”
“I’m Destiny,” I told her.
She took a step in my direction and said, “I know.” Her eyes flicked up and down my body. She looked disgusted just by the sight of me. The expression of utter disdain on her face said I was either hideous or she’d caught a whiff of a sickening odor. Probably both. “You’re…so…blond.”
“Bettina,” Clark said, sounding a bit nervous. “Destiny needs a dress.”
Is he scared of her?
Bettina gave me another quick glance over with her frosty blue eyes. Her fake lashes reminded me of spider legs. “You’re not kidding,” she assessed. “She needs a lot more than a dress.”
“I already know what I want,” I explained.
She raised a pierced eyebrow. “You sure about that, love child?”
I moved past them and stood facing the spine of the mannequin in the front window. “I want that,” I said, my eyes fixed on the zipper of the dress.
Bettina was next to me before I’d realized she’d even moved. “Of course you do,” she said into my ear. “It’s his favorite color, isn’t it?”
“What?” I stammered.
“Dominic,” she said.
I felt my pulse quicken. Just the sound of his name sent a slight shudder through my body.
You’re acting like an idiot, Destiny. You’ve haven’t even met this guy. He could be hideous.
Yet, somehow I knew he wasn’t.
And apparently so did Bettina. I turned, held her stare, and said, “Word must travel fast on this island.”
When she spoke, I could feel her hot breath on my face. “I know everything that goes on in this town,” she informed me. “Besides…some people say I have a gift.”
I tried not to laugh. “Is that what you call it?” I asked. “What are you, the town psychic?”
She nodded, either missing my sarcasm or deciding to ignore it. “I give readings on the side. In case you ever need one,” she said. “And you will.”
“All I need is the dress,” I insisted.
She put a hand on her hip. Her fingernails were painted black to match her lipstick. She wasn’t very tall and she was too thin for her own good, but her presence was still a bit intimidating. She was older than me by at least ten years. I wondered if she had a little sister. Was her mother still alive? “For now it’s just the dress,” she said. “But you’ll be back.”
“Maybe,” I said, glancing around the boutique. “This is a cool place.”
“Yeah, Tasha and Topher think so, too.”
“They didn’t mention it.”
“What time are they picking you up tonight?” she asked. “For the dinner party?”
“Were you invited?” I asked.
“I’m not welcome in that place.” Her words were tinged with anger. “I tried once. I couldn’t get the door to open.”
“I guess that answers my question,” I said.
“No,” Bettina said, “I won’t be there tonight.”
“How can you claim to have a gift when you don’t believe?” I asked.
She folded her arms across her chest and huffed, “Believe? In what?”
“Magic,” I said, as if she knew.
“You can’t put that on me.”
“I’m right, aren’t I?” I asked.
“Destiny, you’re one to talk,” she said. “We both know you don’t believe in it either.”
“Maybe I do now,” I said.
“Magic isn’t the same thing,” she explained. “I believe in something different. For me, it’s all about energy. It’s about gravity. And you have more of it than you’ll ever realize. That’s why he’ll be attracted to you. That’s why Adrianna picked you. I’m sure of it.” She looked over at Clark, who was mesmerized with something inside the glass display case. She lowered her voice a little. “What’s going on in that house…that’s bigger than anything I’ve ever encountered before. That’s why I want in. To see it for myself.”
“Who told you?” I asked. “About Wonderland?”
“People talk,” she answered.
“It was either Tasha or Topher,” I decided. “Or both. What’d you do, offer them free clothes in return?”
Bettina shot me a look. “Let me guess…you have a gift, too?”
“No.”
“Then how’d you know?”
“Lucky guess.”
I turned away from her. She stopped me by touching my arm. Static electricity caused a sharp and sudden shock between us. It jolted me.
“Ouch,” I heard myself say.
“Is that the kind of girl you are?” she asked. “All magic and blond luck?”
“I’m just a girl who wants to buy a dress for a dinner party.”
“Oh, yeah…the dress,” she said. She reached for the zipper. The mannequin teetered and I wondered if it would fall over. Bettina steadied her and slipped the dress off the mannequin.
Bettina held the dress up in front of me. She tilted her head from side to side, as if she were trying to picture what I’d look like wearing it.
“I saw you in it already,” she confessed. “I saw the entire dinner party. I have for over a week now.”
If she was lying, she was doing a very convincing job.
“What did you see?” I asked, trying to keep my curiosity under control.
“You,” she said. “Seconds before you see him for the first time. There’s lots of flowers and little miniature cakes and teacups and twinkling lights. Like stars. They’re everywhere. Shimmering.” Bettina stopped to catch her breath. “But he’s there. And the two of you…fall in love.”
“Yeah, right,” I said.
She touched my arm again. I looked into her eyes. “I already know what’s going to happen to you.”
I glanced across the store to make sure Clark was still occupied. “Tell me what you know,” I said.
“About your mother?” she replied. “About the cancer?”
Bettina draped the dress over her arm and walked away. I felt stunned by her words, so it took me a second before I could move and follow her to a sky-blue slatted door covered with painted clouds.
“Wait…you knew my mother?” I asked.
Bettina opened the door, revealing a claustrophobic dressing room. She handed me the dress and gestured for me to step inside. I took a deep breath and did so. I heard the door click behind me. I was surrounded by mirrors. No matter what direction I turned, I could see myself.
I could hear Bettina’s voice through the wall. “We went to high school together,” she explained. “She was a senior. I was a freshman. We weren’t exactly friends, but we knew each other. She was always dancing. I was busy dreaming about designing clothes.”
I started to undress. “She never mentioned you before.”
“Most people around here don’t think I’m worth mentioning,” Bettina said. “Except for the paranoid ones who think I’m trying to influence their daughters. I’m sure your Uncle Fred will warn you about me soon enough.”
“No offense,” I told her, slipping the dress on, “but you don’t seem very dangerous.”
“But you do,” she answered.
I stared at my reflection and felt breathless. The dress fit perfectly. It was by the far the most incredible thing I’d ever worn. I looked like another person. Not me, but a version of me from the past. From another time, another era. Another life.
I also looked a lot like my mother.
“Me?” I said to my image in the smudged glass. “Dangerous? Hardly.”
I turned the knob and pushed open the dressing room door.
I could see the approval in Bettina’s heavily outlined eyes. She liked the way I looked in the dress.
“What’s it like?” she asked. “Wonderland? Is it really how Tasha describes it?”
Over Bettina’s shoulder, I could see Clark had lost interest in the costume jewelry. He’d moved on to a spinning rack of sunglasses. I hoped he was still out of earshot.
“It’s too beautiful to talk about it,” I explained. “I don’t think words can do the place justice. Or Adrianna Marveaux, for that matter.”
“Is she as beautiful as she is in her pictures?” Bettina asked.
“Yes,” I said. “She’s gorgeous. She’d probably love a lot of the clothes you have here, especially the vintage ones.”
“Of course she would,” Bettina boasted. “I sell glamour here. Or at least the illusion of it. And one thing’s for certain, Adrianna Marveaux was a very glamorous woman. But I don’t have to tell you that. It’s obvious you take after her.”
I found it difficult to breath. It was a wild combination of my fear of the unknown and the exhilaration I was discovering something that was so important, it would change my life.
“Take after her?” I repeated. “What do you mean?”
I couldn’t remember where I’d put down my cup of peppermint tea, but my throat was so dry I needed some. I was finding it hard to swallow.
“You don’t know?” Bettina asked. I shook my head. “You seriously have no idea?”
“I don’t know anything about her,” I said. “I swear.”
Bettina peered into my eyes. “I believe you,” she assessed. The rough edges around her words suddenly softened. “I know you’re telling me the truth, Destiny. I can feel it.”
“What am I missing, Bettina?” I asked. “Please, tell me.”
“Two very important pieces to this new crazy puzzle you’ve found yourself in,” she said. “Adrianna Marveaux is no stranger to you.”
“Have I met her before?”
“No. I don’t think so,” she said. “But you’re related.”
“How?” I asked.
“Adrianna Marveaux was your great-aunt. She was your grandfather’s sister.”
It took a few seconds for words to come out of my mouth. “I had no idea,” I said. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. I felt dizzy. I needed to get out of the dress and back into my clothes. I needed to go. “Wait,” I said, realizing. “You said was. You said she was my great aunt. As in past tense. But she still is. I just saw her yesterday. With my own eyes. I was in her house.”
“I don’t know how that’s possible,” Bettina said. “Unless…well…there’s really only one way to explain it.”
“Explain what?” I prompted, although a part of me already knew what Bettina was going to say, to reveal. “Tell me.”
She took a breath, looked me in the eye, and said, “Adrianna Marveaux has been dead for over twelve years.”
I heard a second voice coming from behind me, a familiar voice. It was tough and young. “I do,” the female voice said. “I know how it’s possible.”
I turned. Tasha was standing in the doorway of the boutique.
She looked into my eyes and said with a grin, “It’s magic.”