Chapter Text
We're sitting on my bed, the room bathed in the last of this evening's sunlight, little Eva is just across from me, her small hands clutching my fingers. "Come on, Evie, just say Ca... ssan... dra..." I say softly, expecting, but she just laughs.
She's got just a hint of blonde fuzz on her head and whispers of curls at the ends, and those big, curious blue eyes. She resembles Rose more and more each day. "Look at those teeny teeth!"
She giggles again.
When we moved seven years ago, our entire world changed. The castle welcomed us just as we had left it our last vacation here. Shut windows, a bit of dust here and there, a couple of rusting metal structures in the garden, but Mamă had it all restored and in perfect condition within days. But outside the castle’s walls… things weren’t as safe. The situation was that bad back in the U.S. We, of course, ignored it at the time—and by we, I mean Bela and me, Dani was too young—but the scandal involving Rose and Mamă spread through social media like wildfire. Although like any trending topic, the obsession with our mother and her ‘lover-girl’ eventually died down, Mamă got the worst from it, so much so that she was forced to make a difficult choice and leave medicine behind, she couldn’t do it anymore without a thousand fingers pointing at her and questioning her character… her morals. Teaching was out of the question. Rose, however, was seen more as a victim and Mamă as her predator, so she got to continue life as normal and almost no one bothered her with reminders of those times. Rose is a doctor now, and works as a researcher and pathologist at a facility Mamă’s winery helped fund. The porphyria research has become her only focus, while Mamă now runs the vineyard and winery full time. Bela just started college in England, she got into Oxford, but has come over to spend the summer with us. Dani goes to private school here in Brasov, I am almost done with high school, and well, now we also have Eva, she was born only nine months ago.
I hear a knock at my door and recognize its quickness. It isn't a Can I please come in? kind of knock, it’s more like I'm coming in, you better not be doing anything you don't want me to see.
It's Mamă.
"Where's my baby?" she says as she opens the door.
"Oh, my god, Mamă, you look stunning!"
Her dark hair is done up in a simple bun and her dress is this eggshell-white color that accentuates her curves. Her arms covered with its sleeves and the beautiful skin of her shoulders bare.
She takes Evie from my arms, and I hold her hand in mine, raising it as she models for me. She looks absolutely blinding.
"Do you truly like it?" she asks, and all I can do is smile from ear to ear.
"Mamă, you look perfect."
She does. She is always the most beautiful woman in every place she walks into, and seeing her this happy makes everything… well, everything that’s happened worth it. She lifts Eva in the air and smiles gloriously up at her while Eva laughs. I often wonder what goes on in Evie's mind, she’s so young, just a baby, but the way she looks at Mamă... It's as if Mamă is the center of her universe.
"How was your nap, my love?"
Eva babbles in response, and Mamă laughs, tickling her stomach.
"Where's Rose?" she asks.
"She's in Bela's room. Bela insisted profusely that Rose let her do her make up."
Mamă nods, bouncing Eva on her hip. "Well, I have to go finish getting ready. How about you, darling? It's almost six. Donna told me the guests have already started to arrive." she says with a smile in her eyes and reaches for my long, side braid. "Your hair and make-up look beautiful."
"Thanks," I say. "I just have to put my dress on."
She presses her lips on Evie's cheek and hands her back to me. "Here," she says, and I take her in my arms. "I will see you both downstairs in a little while."
"Kay," I say.
"Oh, and if you see Rose, please tell her that she is banned from the east wing. I don't want her to see me in my dress before the wedding."
I laugh. "Yeah, like you haven't had enough bad luck, right? Maybe a lifetime's worth." I say, and she lifts her brow, giving me a warning look.
I smile. "All right, all right!" I assure her. "I'll make sure she sees you at the altar, Mamă, not before."
She smiles and gives me a wink before closing the door.
It's so good to see her like this. Nothing's ever mattered more to me than seeing her like this. Yes, I know that Mamă is fierce and loving like no other person I've ever met—I have seen her at her highest moments, strong... proud, indomitable. But I have also seen her shattered. I've always felt protective of her, not in a jealous way like Bela used to be when we were younger, but I just... I've always felt responsible of her happiness. Of all things I remember most vividly from those years is how much I hated—and to this day still do—seeing her cry. Before Rose came along, things had settled, we had a routine we followed, spent a few hours a day with our old nanny, and went back and forth from Mamă's to Mom's, but I knew that something was still missing in her life. I may have been four or five when they divorced, but I'll never forget how sad Mom made her. Mamă used to cry at night in her bedroom after she thought we were asleep. Bela never knew, Dani was a newborn, so I just... never told. But above all, Mamă never, not even once, made us aware of her sadness. Of her loneliness.
Now I understand that's what it was. Loneliness.
And the burden of her disease, which she had to carry alone for so many years. One of the first things I ever read after learning how to read was the beginning of this porphyria journal written by a Polish doctor. I was only six so of course I didn't read the actual article, but I still remember the title. Clearly. 'The Vampire Disease'. I became obsessed. I wanted to cure her as much as I didn’t want to hear her crying alone in her room. I just needed so badly to see my mother happy.
The moment finally comes.
As I gently descend the long staircase, Eva cooing in my arms, I feel the anticipation thickening in my stomach. The fading evening light makes everything seem magic. The castle's walls reflecting wisps of candlelight that flutter over the ancient stones, casting dancing silhouettes across them.
Outside, there are flowers everywhere. I guess Mamă's knack for torturing florists or anyone who is assigned to a task which is meaningful to her, totally paid off. A sweet fragrance oozes from the archway of fresh-picked red roses and blossoms in the entrance to the garden, leading down a path of more rose petals that look like bits of velvet scattered under the candlelight. The green scent of cut grass and fresh summer rain cocoon us.
It's the last of September, and at this time of year is when thanks to the constant wash of rain, you can smell the mountain range at your door.
The castle is concealed but inevitable at the same time. From certain spots—if you can trek for hours deep in the woods until you reach good height—you can see it fully. In the gardens however, we’re hidden from outside eyes, though we get a clear view of the valley, which is overflowing with greenery and wildlife.
I love Romania, more than I ever did Boston. I sometimes miss it though. I miss my old friends, I miss Angie, and all our sleepovers at Donna’s. I miss the smoky barbeques at school after a soccer game. I miss our old house, but this… My DNA hammers inside my chest like a heartbeat when I take all this in. I love exploring the village markets, walking around the old town square surrounded by buildings that are older than my mother’s castle.
Rose stands at the end of the path, waiting for Mamă. She looks like a freaking angel in her white dress. There's a glint in her blue eyes, a flicker of love and excitement as she keeps gazing at the arbor where Mamă will soon join her.
In so many ways, Rose is still the same, and in others, she is so, so different from that girl who walked into our house all those years ago. Gorgeous as always, her radiant skin glows with a faint blush that is always there on her cheeks, her sparkling blue eyes... only now she looks like—no, she IS a woman. My sisters and I watched her blossom into my mother’s equal. And as much as it pains me for Mom, she raised us along with Mamă. Dani started calling her Ma shortly after we moved.
In efforts to cheer us up those first few months, Rose started measuring me and my sisters that summer. There's a whole door frame tattooed with marks to prove it. I am only two inches away from catching up to Rose in height. We made a bet that if I grow to her 5'11 before I turn 18, she'll take me to Tomorrowland. I'm sure I'll stack on those two inches over the winter and eventually catch up to Mamă instead.
It's funny because Dani is the same height as Angie now—who is actually a year older than me, Angie is seventeen.
Dani stands next to Angie, Bela and I at the front, holding the rings. She looks beautiful in her dress, even though her task of ring-bearer looks odd on her because she's grown so much over the summer. An eleven-year-old who stands at 5'5 can only be one of Alcina Dimitrescu's daughters.
Dani insisted her dress be just like Bela's and mine, even though Bela, Angie and I get to be Mamă's bridesmaids, and Donna is her maid of honor.
The music starts, and everyone turns to look at Mamă, who joins Rose at the beginning of the path. I thought it was so romantic that they decided to walk together to the altar. They look happy.
They are happy.
The reverend is almost finished. Mamă and Rose had already exchanged their vows and were about to 'take each other as wives' when a swarm of voices starts to carry from one side of the crowd of guests to the other, until everyone is looking back and murmuring.
I almost drop Evie when I see her.
Mom.
"Oh, no. I believe this falls under my Maid of Honor’s list of ‘No-nos’… and also under the catastrophic events I should prevent from happening, right girls?" murmurs Donna.
"Awkward..." adds Angie in a sing-song tone.
I feel horrible for Mamă and Rose, but mostly for Bela. She's the closest to Mom, and her face went from chipper to somber in seconds. I wouldn't say she's angry but perhaps hurt.
"Why is she doing this to herself?!" Bela hisses at me with tears in her eyes that even if she wanted to, she can't shed. Not now.
"I don't know. Maybe We should go talk to her. Talk her out of it? You don't think she's here to stop the wedding, do you?" I say.
When I look towards the altar, I notice Mamă's eyes are trained on Mom, and Rose is telling her something. But… Mom sits down at the back, the very last row and looks forward, sort of making it obvious to everyone that she isn't here to stop anything.
I can feel the tension in the air and see the disapproving glances from some of the guests.
"I can't just leave her there alone, especially if she needs me," says Bela.
Bela rushes towards Mom, Angie and I following closely behind, I'm still holding Eva.
We don't say anything at first, just stand there awkwardly, waiting for her to speak. She finally turns to us, her eyes puffy and red from crying. "I just wanted to see her. Your mother. It's been so long," she says softly, almost in a whisper.
Bela takes Mom's hand in hers, trying to comfort her. "Mom, you can't just show up uninvited like this. It's not fair to Mamă or to Rose. Or to you, for that matter!" she says firmly under a whisper. She’s gentle.
Mom nods. "I know, I know. I just... I miss her so much. And I regret so many things," she says, her voice breaking.
I look at Bela, who looks torn between feeling sorry for Mom and feeling angry at her for embarrassing herself this way. I can tell she doesn't know what to do, but all I can think about is how this is so odd. Mom would never cry in front of others, let alone in the middle of Mamă's wedding to another woman. There's at least five hundred people here.
"Cassandra, dear, you look beautiful, you both do," she says, and that's when it occurs to me that she must have been drinking. A lot. Mom doesn't drink. She's the epitome of sobriety and responsible behavior, sadly to very uptight lengths.
I exchange a worried look with Bela, who nods slightly in agreement. This isn't like Mom at all. She's always been distant, stoic, and unemotional. But now, she's breaking down in front of us.
"Mom, have you been drinking?" I ask softly, trying not to offend her.
Mom looks away, her cheeks reddening. "I had a little too much to drink at the hotel bar," she admits, slurring slightly.
Bela sighs and takes Mom's arm. "Come on, let's get you some water and sit down," she says gently, leading her away from the crowd.
I follow them, still holding Eva, feeling grateful that Bela is handling this so well. Despite everything Mom has put us through, Bela, to this day, worships the ground Mom walks on. When we were younger, I always thought she felt pity, bad because Mamă always got to have more of us. But as I grew older, and Bela and I grew closer, I realized just how much she adores Mom.
We find a quiet spot near the garden, and Bela helps Mom sit down on a bench. She hands her a bottle of water, and Mom takes a swig.
"Maybe I should go back, Mamă has no bridesmaids," I say, bouncing Evie in my arms, she's starting to get fussy.
And… I can see when it happens, the moment Mom's longing eyes fall on Eva.
"This is your little sister, isn't she?" Mom asks, and I nod. Evie is such a sweet baby that she immediately calms down and gets distracted looking around, up at the whirring leaves of the trees.
"She has Rose's temperament," says Mom.
"Miranda, what is this?"
I close my eyes and sigh before even turning.
"Oh, no," says Angie, with widened, worried eyes.
Mamă.
"Alcina, please let me explain," says Mom, standing up and smoothing out her dress.
"You're drunk."
Damn. Mamă figured it out faster than we did. I guess she knows her better? I mean, they were together for years, after all.
Mamă's face is a mixture of anger and disbelief. "You show up here uninvited and drunk, at OUR WEDDING, and you want to explain?!" she shouts, causing some guests to turn their heads from the distance.
Bela steps forward, placing a hand on Mamă's arm. "Mamă, please. Let's not make a scene," she says softly, but firmly.
Mamă takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. It takes her a second, but she says, "Let's go inside, Miranda, I'll make you some coffee."
Eva starts to fuss and cry, and soon throws her arms at Mamă.
I end up making Mom her coffee, while she and Mamă talk in the kitchen. Evie's fallen asleep in Mamă's arms, her little cheek pressed against her chest.
"Part of me never expected you two to get this far." says Mom.
Mamă almost laughs. “So you ‘Set me free’ all the while thinking you would eventually get me back?”
“She was so young, and you—”
“And I was so old?”
“No. No, Alcina. You look gorgeous as ever.” says Mom, finding Mamă’s eyes. I can attest that I have never seen them this way. A sad admission since they are both my parents and were once married while I was alive and cognizant.
For a moment, I internalize Mom’s comment. She must be referring to Mamă’s porphyria. She has such an aggressive form of it that by now Mamă should have been crumbled by it, deformed by it, even dead. But that trial med has kept her alive. Still flaring from time to time, but her skin is still unblemished.
"She gave you your fourth daughter. Exactly what you always wanted. She gave you your dream, and now... You've married her." says Mom.
At first, I thought Mamă was going to come back at her and keep arguing, but instead, her eyes soften with a gleam.
"And you did as well. You gave me three wonderful daughters, Miranda. Nothing can change that."
"You know what, I'm sorry for all this. Please accept my apologies." says Mom. "I don’t know what ever possessed me to think this was a good idea."
It seems the coffee has settled in her, and she's coming to her usual self.
"I should call a cab." says Mom. "Cassandra, sweetheart. Could you ask your sisters to come. I'd like to say goodbye to them before I go. If I don't get to the airport, I will miss my flight."
"Sure," I say, and at that moment, they both stand. "Here, Mamă. I'll take Evie to her crib."
I take but a few steps into the shadows when I hear Mom.
“I was a fool to ever lose you, Alcina. I…I love—”
The darkness of the room conceals me when I lean over the archway of the kitchen. Mom is like a timid girl who doesn’t dare. It feels surreal to see her this way, at Mamă’s mercy. But then, Mamă takes her hand and pulls her into a hug. It seems ages pass as they hold onto each other, and for the first time in all these years, I feel it. Mom and Mamă are done for good.
Mamă’s and Rose’s bedroom door is open ajar. I’m about to knock softly when I see them. Mamă is laying on her side, head propped on one elbow while Evie is tucked in her chest, asleep, and Rose is leaning right across, looking into Mamă’s eyes and touching her face. She’s saying something to her that I can’t quite make out, but it makes Mamă’s eyes gleam, she smiles.
I knock gently on the door, and Mamă carries her smile to me.
“Please come in, darling.” she says.
“I hate to break this, I really do, but if we don’t get going, she’ll miss her flight.” I say.
Rose, amazing as usual, offered to take Mom to the airport. She leans over and kisses Evie’s forehead and then kisses Mamă on the lips.
This is all I ever wanted for her.
Her happy ending.
We end up driving the almost three hours to Bucharest. I’m glad Rose offered to take Mom. This would have been a depressing ride for her in a cab. Bela decided to stay, she was still shaken by the whole Mom crashing Mamă’s wedding thing. Angie came along, though, and I’m grateful because it makes this less awkward. The more people the better, I guess.
It’s 11:15 pm and the airport bar is deserted. The bartender wipes glasses and sets them on a rack behind him, Angie and I sit at the bar with her.
“Are you going to keep drinking?” I ask.
“No.” she says, and signals to the guy. “One coffee and two glasses of water please.”
The waters must be for us. First dead than catching Mom ordering us a soda.
“Where is she?” asks Mom.
“Rose? She had to take a call.” I say, omitting that the call was from Mamă, but the look on her face tells me she knows.
“Is she treating you girls well? You’d tell me if she’s making you feel left aside, wouldn’t you?”
“She’s pretty cool, Mom. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I should have asked Bela and Daniela to come along. We could have gone to Frankfurt together. At least for a few days, before Bela returns to college.”
“We couldn’t have gone. We leave for Paris tomorrow.” I say.
“Alcina is bringing you girls along in her honeymoon?”
I nod with a slight wince. “Rose insisted.”
Mom looks disgusted. “Ug. She is good, isn’t she?”
“She really is.” I say.
“I wasn’t good to you, dear.” she says. “I never understood that smoldering, silent sentimentality you’ve always kept locked inside. You are much like Alcina in that sense, and now I see that was the part of her I wanted most and I could never reach… because of my moronic fear.”
“Mom, it’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t. You deserved more from me. You deserve more from me now.”
“I’ll see you next year, Mom. Like always.” I say.
She reaches across the wooden surface and takes my hand. I can only stare at my rings and our fingers as she caresses them with her thumb. Looking up and finding her gaze would make it worse.
“Would—what if… Would you like to take a short trip with me? Just you and I. I am not drunk, I… I mean this. I am being absolutely serious.”
She’s getting emotional, and honestly, I can’t deal with that. Not right now. The defensive part in me is screaming don’t believe her, it’s the alcohol talking, but I know she’s no longer under the influence. This is my mother trying to make amends over years of walls we’ve both built between us.
“Sure, Mom. Why not.” I say, and it happens so fast. I think Angie noticed before I felt it. Thankfully at that very second, Mom glances at the news cast playing on one of the screens behind the bartender, and I slide off the stool.
“Mom, I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be right back.” I say.
“Cassandra! You need to tell them!” says Angie as soon as the main bathroom door shuts behind us.
“No. Stop it,” I say, pulling a string of paper from the dispenser as I hold my head back. When I look at myself in the mirror, the thick line of blood is draining from my nose, and I wipe it before it gets to my lips.
“What makes you think you can hide this from them? They’re all doctors, genius,” says Angie. “You know what, I’m going to talk to your Mom, right now—” She starts for the door and I pull her by the arm.
“You promised you wouldn’t. You can’t.”
“No, I didn’t. I walked in on you shaking and unable to move for twenty minutes straight, and I had to sit on the floor with you until you could. Then you confessed to me that you think have this shit and forced me to promise you I wouldn’t tell!”
“I don’t ‘think’, Angie. I have it,” I say, and wet a fresh paper towel and then wipe the ghost of dried blood off my nose and upper lip. “I’ll be fine. I’m taking Mamă’s medication and it helps. Look at her, she’s fine.”
“Yes, but you need to be seen by a doctor, Cass. You don’t even know which form of it you have. From what I’ve read that disease is a fucking nightmare.”
That makes me want to laugh. “Really?” I say sarcastically. “And I will tell them, eventually. Not now. I don’t want to ruin their happiness. They just had Eva, finally got married. Please, I am begging you, let them enjoy it for a little while before I have to break Mamă’s heart again.”
“Cassandra,”
“Please, Angie. You have no idea how much it sucks to know that it is me who will shatter my mother again.” I say, and after a while, with a pained look on her face, Angie nods.
Angie and Cassandra have gone.
You’re feeling a tear sliding down your cheek the moment you open the bathroom stall you’ve been hiding in this entire time.
You had just finished your call with Alcina before they came in. You look down at your phone, at the picture on your screen. Alcina and her four daughters.
Your beloved girls.
"Oh, Cass..." you say.