1 Dewitched (38 page)

Here it comes. He’s going to say it.
The Evil Queen.

“Jane.” I take a deep breath. My real name. 

“Who would like to go first?” asks The Huntsman, still staring at me.

 I don’t think I can do this. To my relief, Rump stands up and teeter-totters to the podium.

 “R-Rumpelstiltskin is my n-name,” he stutters. And I-I’m addicted to evil.” The stuttering stops. “I threatened to take away a queen’s firstborn child.”

My heart jumps with shock as the group gasps. Rump used an innocent baby as a means of extortion? What dark demons inside him would drive him to do such a terrible thing? Pity, not anger, fills me. My poor little man! How much pain and guilt he’s had to endure!

Red in the face, he limps off the stage.

Silence. Until Hook gives him an ear-piercing whistle.

“Way to go, matey!” He leaps to his feet and mimics an applause with his good hand and hook. I follow him, clapping my hands zealously. One by one, the others join in. 

Rump, overwhelmed, breaks into a toothy grin. Lifting his stumpy arms above his head, he does a happy little jig.

“Isn’t he adorable?” Elz whispers in my ear. Her face flushes. She’s clearly got a crush on him.

My throat tightens. It’s my turn to talk. Winnie gives my hand a gentle squeeze as I rise. The walk up to the podium feels like an eternity.

Facing my Faraway friends, I’m helplessly, hopelessly sad. Memories of Gallant dance in my head. I still don’t know if I can go through with this. Battling tears,
please no more tears
, I begin.

“My name is Jane, and
I’m
addicted to evil.”

And then the words ebb and flow out of my mouth. I talk about my love-hate affair with my mirror and how it drove me to evil. How it made me hate Snow White and want to destroy her. I also share what I learned about friendship at Faraway and how another beautiful little girl named Calla changed my life. But I deliberately stay away from talking about Gallant. I’m not ready to go there.

The group is mesmerized by my story. Throughout, The Huntsman’s eyes stay glued on me.

“What did you learn from the little girl?” asks Urma.

There’s one answer. One word. “Love.”

The true meaning of beauty
. I step down from the podium, feeling strangely exhilarated.

Everyone cheers. Elz and Winnie jump to their feet. The others follow.

“Way to go, babe!” whistles Hook. Gothel elbows him. We could become fast friends.

“Time’s almost up for today’s meeting,” announces The Huntsman, returning to the podium.

I guess the others will tell their stories in the weeks to come. The Huntsman remains at the podium. His eyes, still locked on me, grow misty.

“My name is Beau, and I’m addicted to evil. Many years ago, I fell prey to a beautiful, bewitching woman. I conceived a child with her--a beautiful daughter. I made a terrible mistake and was forced to abandon this little girl. I know this caused her great suffering. But she’s always been there in my heart. I’m sorry for what I did and pray she can forgive me.”

His words move me like a tremor in the earth. Our eyes connect. His, green and wide-set like mine. Oh my God! Can it be? In a heartbeat, he vanishes.

Holding a torch, I follow the group through a dark, damp underground passageway. Pinocchio clasps my hand as we march in silence. I shiver. I can’t stop thinking about what The Huntsman said. Too much has happened in one day.

We tread up a steep flight of steps, and one by one exit through a trapped door. I’m surprised to find myself at the entrance to The Trove.

A harvest moon lights up the night sky. It does little to brighten my spirits. Realizing I have no place to go, I ask Winnie if I can stay with her.

“I don’t think you’ll need to,” she smiles.

My eyes look up, and my heart almost stops. Heading toward me on a majestic white stallion is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He’s alive! Gallant’s alive!

He swoops me up and we gallop away.

It’s not a dream.

My Prince has come.

CHAPTER 38

“Dahling, it’s so beyond,” gushes my fairy godmother Armando, wearing a gold brocade caftan and matching beret.

He fluffs the fountain of sequin encrusted ivory tulle that pours down from my waist to my ankles. I look down. He’s right. My wedding gown is a work of art. And so are my matching shoes, custom made by Elz. Believe me, it wasn’t easy convincing her to keep the heel size down to three inches. 

Armando stands back and admires his creation. “When the
Fairytale Tattler
gets wind of this gown, knockoffs will be showing up everywhere.”

Holding a large straw basket full of fragrant petals that surround Lady Jane, Calla, my flower girl, gazes up at me. “You look like a Princess Bride,” she beams, referring to “Uncle Occhio’s” new blockbuster doll line.

 Bending down, I kiss her in the center of the floral garland that circles her golden curls. A few tendrils of my hair, now several inches longer, escape my matching garland and fall into my face. My stomach bunches up with nerves. It all seems so unreal. I’m about to marry My Prince.

The Queen wanted to do a lavish event in the ballroom of their castle. Personally, I had experienced one too many weddings there. And so had Gallant. We insisted on to doing it right in our own backyard--in Snow White’s rose and lily garden. And to keep it small. More like a Faraway reunion plus some close family members and friends of the royal family. Winnie, God bless her, handled every detail, right down to the icing on the cake.

 For a moment, I think about my first wedding--if you want to call it that--a loveless, perfunctory arrangement--witnessed only by a little girl hiding in the back of a somber, damp chapel. Snow White. The bittersweet irony of it all sends a shiver up my spine. And then I relax. How different today is. Where there was dark, there is light. Where there was cold, there is warmth. And where there was emptiness, there is joy.

The sound of harp music outside signals my cue. A tingling mixture of nerves and joy races through me. Calla hands me my bouquet--a single white lily that Gallant handpicked. The symbol of everything I love. The French doors swing open and in walks the man who will give me away to my Prince. Standing proud and tall. The Huntsman. Beau. My father.

My eyes meet his in a warm embrace as we lock arms and take our first steps across the threshold. His strong hold and steady gait make me feel at ease. Calla follows us, tossing petals from her basket. 

The high noon sun is shining brilliantly; the white blooms glisten, and chirping birds circle in the sky. My feathered friends who woke me up every morning at Faraway are singing me a love song. I smile, and then my heart skips a beat.

Straight ahead of me is the man I love. Gallant, in his billowy white blouse and creamy leather britches, more beautiful to me than ever. Standing to his left are his best men, Hook and Charming and to his right, my maids of honor, Elz and Winnie, both beaming. Behind him is King Midas, his gold crown gleaming,

Holding onto my father, I walk toward them slowly, taking in everything and relishing each magical step. I catch glimpses of the small crowd out of the corner of my eye. Shrink is hovering in the fragrant air between Grimm and the Badass Fairies. Gothel, Hook’s date, is seated in the back. Rump, who’s promised to take Elz on her long awaited high seas adventure--a honeymoon cruise--is seated in the second row next to Winnie’s husband John and their children, Hansel, Gretel and Curly, whom they adopted. Pinocchio, who graciously declined being a best man, is seated next to Peter Pan, whom he met at Shrink’s book signing party. They’ve become inseparable and do volunteer work at the Midas Orphanage for Lost Boys. Occupying every seat in the front row are the Seven Dwarfs, wearing matching hooded robes. Wow! They actually dressed up. The tiny mute one gives me a thumbs up as Cinderella breezes in, late as usual, and takes an empty seat next to the disgruntled Queen. That seat was originally meant for Oscar, the Queen’s new croquet partner, who unfortunately had planned a retirement party from wizardry. 

The walk up to Gallant feels something between eternity and the blink of an eye. His whole face lights up as he takes me from my father. He clasps his hands firmly around mine, and my smile meets his. The butterflies inside my stomach flutter away. I’m floating like a feather as Midas begins.

“Royally beloved, we are here to unite two people who have magically found each other. I will let them speak for themselves.”

Gallant’s piercing blue eyes burn into mine as he delivers his vow.

“My beloved Jane, where there has been cold, you have brought warmth; where my life was dark, you have brought light. From this day on, I promise to laugh with you in good times; to struggle with you in bad; to wipe your tears with my hands; to comfort you with my body; mirror you with my soul and love you until our lives shall come to an end.”

It’s my turn. I swallow hard, forcing the rising lump in my throat to go away.

“My beloved Gallant, I enter into this marriage with you, knowing that the true magic of love is not to avoid changes, but to embrace them. Let us commit to making each day of our lives more different and beautiful than the one before. Let me be the light inside your heart that brings out the best in you always until death do us part.”

Gallant squeezes my hands. Elz is positively bawling, and there’s a chorus of sniffles in the crowd as Midas envelops us with his burly arms.

“Do you, my son, take this woman…?”

“I do,” says Gallant with a bright smile.

“And do you, Jane…?”

“I do,” I say without the slightest tremor.

Midas removes two identical gold bands that are stacked on Hook’s hook and slips them on our ring fingers. Inscribed inside each of them is one word:
Forever.

“I hereby pronounce you husband and…”

Before Midas can say “wife,” Gallant’s lips consume mine. I surrender myself shamelessly. Neither of us pulls away.

Amid applause and cheers, Calla runs up to me and gives me a huge hug.

She reaches into her basket, still half-full with petals, and pulls out something from under Lady Jane.

“This is for you.” Her chocolate eyes twinkle.

My heart swells with joy. It’s another one of Rump’s woven name bracelets. But this one says “MOMMY.”

As my sweet little girl slips it over my hand, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I no longer need a mirror to tell me who I am.

EPILOGUE

Everyone’s life is a fairy tale written by God’s fingers.

--Hans Christian Anderson

Soon after our wedding, Gallant and I donated all of my mother’s possessions to a resale shop, including her ruby slippers. I told Gallant that I sure wouldn’t want to be in her shoes. Yesterday, the
Fairytale Tattler
reported that a house fell on the woman who bought them and killed her. I knew those shoes were cursed. 

After all she did to me, I sometimes miss my mother in a strange, inexplicable way. I’m glad Shrink left me with the hope that she might have been born a good person. Yet, I’m still not sure if people are born evil or if it’s the events in their lives that make them that way.

What I do know for sure is that fate is meant to be. But it’s not a
fait accompli.
Fate, in fact, has a way of writing its own twisted version of happily ever after. In my fairy tale, had I not gone to rehab, I would have never found the light inside me.

Shrink was right about so many things. About letting go of the past and looking deep inside myself for the future. Even about starting a career as a writer.

Having unleashed my imagination, I’m writing a children’s book. Gallant’s doing the illustrations. It’s a fairy tale called
Dewitched.
You can guess what the story’s about. As usual, I’m having writer’s block. But, at least, I’ve written the last line…

…And they lived happily ever after.

~THE END~

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

As I hit home plate, exhausted and elated, I realized there are so many people who helped me get there. Yes, it takes a team to write a novel, and mine, in this digital age, came from around the world. BIG, heartfelt thanks…

To my mom, the best mother ever.

To Dana, my best friend and fellow writer for her never-ending belief in me and terrific edit.

To novelist and new friend Artemis Hunt, who gave me insightful advice and the courage to self-publish after much deliberation.

 To my dear friend Shelley Miles, who had no idea that she inspired me to write this book one day at lunch after sharing a first-time novelist’s success story.

To Cheryl Ferguson, who helped me grow as a writer and graciously accepted my decision to self-publish.

To Wendy Engelberg, who gave me the perfect words when I could no longer find them.

To Angela Weltman, my sister Laura, and the fabulous women of the LACMA Costume Council Board, who supported me with unwavering enthusiasm.

To my ever-patient formatter John Ling, a perfectionist and bestselling novelist himself.

To my passionate cover and website designer, Glendon Haddix of Streetlight Graphics, who gave me sanity when I thought I’d lost it.

To Siri, who showered me with unexpected love and kindness when I most needed it.

To Khalil Gibran for his beautiful, inspirational quote: “Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart.” (Okay, he’s not really part of the team, but he deserves a mention.)

To the always supportive and helpful community of writers on Kindle Boards Writers’ Café, especially Dalya Moon and Liz Grace Davis.

To my stepkids, Cristina and Nicholas for helping me debunk the evil stepmother myth.