Page 1 of The Blackmail of Denise Randall

THE CURSE

Mommy is sad a lot, but sometimes after she hugs me for an extra-long time, she’ll smile. I love it when she smiles. I love it more that she smiles because of me. She has the most beautiful smile. Then she’ll look me in the eyes while smiling and call me princess.

My brother Trent told me that Mommy wasn’t always sad, it’s just that she still misses her other daughter, Sarah. Someone took her when they were at the park before I was born. He said that’s when Mommy started being sad all the time, but far worse than she is now. She cried all the time, even after Landon was born. Trent said Mommy was really happy when she found out she was having me, another girl. He said she’s better now, and maybe one day she won’t be sad at all anymore. When Landon said that his friend Rachel’s cat died, she cried for a really long time too, and she still misses Snowball. Trent felt bad so he gave her a new kitten. He told her this kitten was no Snowball but at least she’d have a new kitten to love. Sometimes, I feel like I’m that new kitten for Mommy. I’m no Sarah, but I’m her princess to love.

Last night Mommy was drinking and told Daddy our family was cursed. I went to school and told my best friend Isabelle that my family was cursed. If we’re cursed and I’m a princess, then we only need a prince to kiss me. Isabelle laughed and made fun of me. I started crying so hard and was so upset, the school called my parents. They are out of town so my grandparents picked me up. Which is fine with me, Meemaw and Peepaw always get me ice cream.

My grandparents live in the center of town, almost. The house is even bigger than ours. Their front lawn is massive and always breathtaking. Meemaw spends a lot of time tending to the lawn, plus they hire a company to maintain it. On holidays, the lawn is magical and reminds me of a fairytale. The back lawn is even bigger. The yard is so vast that you feel almost like you’re out in the country—yet, it’s only a fifteen-minute walk and you’re at the town’s square.

“Now, you and Peepaw go sit out in the gazebo, and I’ll get us some glasses of sweet tea and cookies. A little fresh air and you’ll be feeling better, sweetheart.” Meemaw kisses my forehead and shuffles to the kitchen.

I throw my backpack down, never breaking my stride as I follow Peepaw outside.

I skip next to him to keep up with his long legs. I’m only seven, but I’m tall for my age. Yet, I still can’t seem to keep up with Peepaw Lumberton. He always walks like he’s in a hurry.

We sit down inside the gazebo. I know Meemaw only suggested here because it’s my favorite place. I love to dress up and have tea parties out here.

“Baby doll, are you going to tell me what got you so upset?”

“Isabelle said that princesses aren’t real. That I’m not a princess.”

“That’s because Isabelle doesn’t know any better and is jealous,” he says in a matter of fact tone. Peepaw is sixty-five, his salt and pepper hair still holds most of its jet-black color. His blue eyes are bright and full of laughter and wisdom.

“What doesn’t she know? And why would she be jealous of me? Her parents bought her a pony. I don’t have a pony.”

“A pony? Wow.” He looks around the yard and then his eyes focus on mine. He has the same blue eyes as Mommy, and like Mommy, his dark lashes and eyebrows are a stark contrast. Trent and I have the same features, along with our olive complexion. Peepaw’s skin has always been a little darker from being out in the sun so much. His skin reminds me of Daddy’s brown leather wallet.

“Are you jealous of her pony?”

I shake my head. “I’d like one too, but I’m still happy for her.” I frown and in defense say, “She’s my friend.”

Peepaw shakes his long, bony finger at me. “And that my dear, is the characteristic of a true princess.”

“What is? I don’t understand.”

“Haha. I’ll let Meemaw explain it. But you’re a princess, Denise. Don’t ever doubt it. A crown, a pony, and all the riches in the world doesn’t make a lick of difference. You’re going to grow up into a brilliant woman, a queen of her own.”

I cross my arms and huff. “My own what? You don’t make any sense sometimes, Peepaw.”

He gives another throaty chuckle. I don’t see what’s so funny. “I may not know a lot but that I do know. It’s in your blood.”

“Ew!” After Peepaw finishes laughing, I continue, “But Isabelle said I don’t look like a princess. She said she does. I don’t have fair skin and blonde hair like her. So she said she’s the fairest of them all.”

“Fairest of them—Gah! For Pete’s sake!” Peepaw becomes flustered and his dark skin manages to turn red. “Do not say,” he holds a hand up, “do not tell me another word that Isabelle said. I do not want to speak poorly of a child. Her parents though.” He grunts. “Anyways. Our family, unlike the Jamersons, are the town’s originals.”

“What’s that mean—original?”

“Our family was the first settlers. You know about the pilgrims and Native Americans?”

I get excited and perk up. “Like Pocahontas!”

“Who was Pocahontas?”

My grin spreads so wide that it hurts my face. “She was a princess.”

Peepaw smiles down at me. “Yes, she was. Dark hair and all.”

“Are we descendants of her?”

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