When the caravan returned home, Jack was sitting atop the kitchen counter, a newspaper spread upon his lap as he boiled pasta on the stove. Charlotte glanced at the clock, surprised that it was already past four-thirty.

She threw her set of house keys upon the dining room table as the kids darted upstairs in search of their prized 101 Dalmatians DVD. Charlotte walked tiredly into her husband’s outstretched arms.

“What’s wrong?”

“Our daughter,” Charlotte sighed anxiously, her voice muffled as she pressed against her husband’s soft sweatshirt. She hated to leave the solace of his chest, wishing that she could remain half-smothered against his body for eternity. “She ran off today at the playground. Coupled with the nightmares, she’s making me a basket case.”

“She ran off? At the park? Where did she go? Where could she go?”

Charlotte explained the situation in vivid detail, illustrating her distraught search for her daughter about the playground. No expression was spared, as she magnified the story with her hands and face. When she finished, leaving out her trepidation about the caterpillar, Jack sighed. “Well, all’s well that ends well, right?”

Charlotte wanted to agree, but found it difficult to choose words. “Yeah. I guess so,” she managed, turning to the stove in search of a distraction. She sniffed the concoction that Jack had been tending. “What are you making?”

He grinned guiltily, a schoolboy with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. “Macaroni and cheese.”

“Jack!” Charlotte had chided him on multiple occasions about his obsessive fondness for the comfort food. While she allowed her children a world of choice for breakfast and lunch, she preferred to stick to light meals for supper. She was a firm believer in the theory that late-night eating led to obesity, and her children’s health was her top priority. Her husband wanted to topple this good habit with unrivaled doggedness.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Jack kissed the top of her head and returned to stirring the noodles. “But you said I could make dinner, and you know the kids love it. Plus it’s one of the few cooked foods that Gracie will eat.”

He had a point, and Charlotte conceded, but she planned to argue about it later. She set the table as he strained the noodles and watched as their children scrambled into the kitchen.

“Princess Grace, baby,” Jack addressed his daughter as she delicately slid a noodle onto her fork. She looked at him, her pale eyes regarding him curiously. “Mommy told me that you went off by yourself on the playground today. Why didn’t you want to play with Gabby?”

Gracie waited a moment, and Charlotte studied her the young girl considered her answer. She often had difficulty believing that her daughter was only six. The child was so articulate and poised for her age and her intelligence was well beyond average. “I am not friends with Gabby anymore.”

“Why not?” Adam nosed, shoving a forkful of noodles into his mouth and leaving a trail of cheese sauce behind on his face. He lacked all the poise that came so naturally to Gracie. “I like Gabby. She’s pretty.”

Grace rolled her eyes at her younger brother. “I don’t want to have friends. They make things more confusing.”
Charlotte swallowed hard, and her dinner became wholly unappetizing before her. They make things more confusing. Jack opened his mouth to inquire but his wife vehemently kicked him under the table. He raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing. Gracie returned to her dinner as Charlotte ignored hers. Her mind was racing over her young daughter’s concerns.

Gracie was showing all the symptoms to a condition that Charlotte hoped wouldn’t afflict her children. It was just beginning, she realized, and hoped with all her might that Gracie might be spared the hardship that her mother had suffered.

X=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=X

Charlotte lay still in bed in the early hours of morning. Jack snored beside her, his wiry arm flung around her waist. She shifted slightly on the satin sheets, and he did not move. Insomnia had struck again and Charlotte almost resented the thought of sleep because she knew Gracie would wake in a few hours anyway.

Everything was beginning to make sense to her, but she had not wanted it to. She had wanted all of these quirks and ailments of her daughter to be flukes, to be entirely unrelated, but she was seeing now that they were linked. She was going to be like her mother. Charlotte had prayed that Jack’s good genes would cancel out all the bad in hers, but unfortunately the family’s curse had carried through.

She hated to think about it, but she knew she would have to confront her daughter eventually. The equinox was arriving, and with all of the symptoms that Princess Grace was displaying, this year would most likely be the year she began to receive transmissions. And then, shortly after, she would be contacted by Charlotte’s family. It was inevitable.

Charlotte had been born into a wealthy family, but it was wealth illegitimately earned. She’d wanted nothing to do with it even from a young age, making her the official black sheep of the clan. With six siblings in all, she had been completely ostracized for her morality and because of this left home at sixteen. All but one of her brothers and sisters had been born with the illness. Withdrawing all of the money in her savings, Charlotte purchased a small, pitiable apartment in Boston and worked her way through an early graduation and, subsequently, college. After she’d met Jack, things had gone uphill. Until, that is, her family began trying to contact her again and Gracie got sick.

Jack groaned into her ear, awakening. “You awake, Char? It’s early.”

“Or late, depending on how you look at it.”

“What’s up?”

She sighed and turned to face him. “Gracie.”

“Ah.”

“Ah? All you have to say is ah?”

Jack pinched her cheek. “Sweetie, I honestly think you are worrying about this

more than you need to. Our daughter is perfectly healthy. Unless you know something I don’t about her, I’m one hundred and ten percent sure that she will grow out of this.”

Charlotte felt a twinge of guilt deep in her gut. She hadn’t told Jack the details of her shaky adolescence, preferring instead to feed him the white lie of a bad relationship with her parents. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Come here.”

She scooted a bit closer and allowed him to wrap his arms more securely around her. He kissed her forehead and rubbed her shoulders. “She’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. I know you hate this time of year, but we’ll get through it, okay?”

Charlotte tried to believe him. She so badly wanted to tell him the truth about her, but she couldn’t bring herself to form the necessary words. She didn’t say anything.

Jack tugged playfully at the strap of her nightgown. “On to more important matters….?”

She laughed and it was almost genuine. “Jack, it’s almost two in the morning. Are you crazy?”

“Just crazy for you, baby.”

“That’s corny.”

“You like it.”

“What’s it to you?” Charlotte obliged and kissed him, hoping that she would forget her qualms. He loosened her nightgown and while they made love, Charlotte was overcome with an ominous feeling. She felt wonderfully close to her husband now, but she couldn’t help but feel as if this was the last time they would be together for a very long time.