Enchanted, A Paranormal Romance / Fantasy (Forever Charmed)

  ENCHANTED

  By Rachel Wells

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  Copyright 2011 by Rachel Wells

  Published by Rachel Wells

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  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  First Edition License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to wherever you bought it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover image is public domain and was found at: ”http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=4186&picture=decompose”

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  Chapter 1

  Mandy shivered as she stared out the car window at the ever-pressing gray sky encompassing all views. She pulled her long white sweater coat more tightly around her. It was August. The sky should have been a pristine blue color dripping with golden drops of warm sun. An occasional cotton candy cloud would be acceptable, too. However, this was York Beach, Maine. It was a beach town, as its name suggested. Unlike other beach towns, it did not radiate sunshine and warmth, even in would-be hazy, lazy August. Mandy had been coming here every summer since she had been knee-high and it was always the same. Or at least she had always perceived it as the same. There would be a few days that passed as nice, when the sun would flirt and tease with your vitamin-D deprived skin, playing hide and seek behind the dark, angry clouds threatening storms. Mandy sighed. She didn’t know what her parents saw in this place.

  For as long as she could remember, her parents had brought Mandy up to York Beach each summer to spend time with her grandmother on her mother’s side. She was ushered up from Boston each June a week after school let out for the summer and ushered back to Boston each August a week before school was back in session. Mandy had been tired of spending her summers here, but as if that wasn’t bad enough, now she was being forced to move to the sleepy seaside town. Her parents had claimed that Nana was getting older, and it was time they started acting like a family before it was too late.

  Mandy saw Nana every few months. Boston was practically a stone’s throw from York Beach, only about a two hour drive. She didn’t feel like Nana looked any older than she’d ever remembered her. She didn’t act any older either. Nothing had changed with her health, she was as fit as an ox; Mandy couldn’t understand what her parents were making such a fuss over.

  Mandy’s dad had been offered a position as a letter carrier in York. He had been a mailman since he was 20 years old. Unfortunately he still thought he was 20, even though those years were practically ancient history. He drove Mandy crazy sometimes, the way he was constantly trying to use slang and as he would put it, “be down with his peeps, yo!” He really had the potential to be an embarrassment, that is if Mandy ever made any friends here to be embarrassed in front of.

  Mandy’s mother had alternated between working at part-time jobs when they needed the extra income and staying at home with Mandy when she was younger. Mandy’s mother wasn’t as much as a problem as her dad was. Her only fault was wanting to know every detail of Mandy’s life. That was fine when Mandy was younger, but now that she was seventeen, she didn’t always want to share every nook of her life with her mom. Now that Mandy was entering her last year in high school, Mandy’s mother was planning on working in Nana’s flower shop.

  Nana had owned and run Enchanted Dew Drops since long before Mandy was born. It was the only flower shop in town and therefore prospered well. It seemed all the town inhabitants were on a first name basis with Nana, or Dolly as they called her. Nana made a good amount for an older, single widow, especially at Prom time and in the summer months, which were always popular choices for seaside weddings. She had all the major holidays covered as well, and of course there was always some star crossed lover that needed to buy a pretty bouquet to woo his soul mate, or some jerk that needed to apologize to his wife for his latest wrong doing. Just this past year Nana had expanded her little flower shop to include a candy counter. This lured in some of York’s younger crowd. She had penny candy as well as handmade treats, such as fudge and chocolate dipped strawberries. Something for everyone.

  In the summertime, the town of York beckoned to tourists like Popsicles beckon to kids on hot days. People flocked to the little town, loving its feel of old time fun and nostalgia. There was something pure and clean, comforting even in the light breezes that rolled in off the ocean. Comforting to most, but to Mandy it just oozed boring. Mandy wouldn’t be able to enjoy those breezes even if she had wanted to because her mother had volunteered Mandy to work at Enchanted Dew Drops alongside her. It wasn’t completely unfair, Mandy supposed. Nana was going to pay her. Still, she was sure she could have found something else to do with her time besides getting sucked into the family business.

  Mandy had always been the quiet type, so maybe working the whole summer in the flower shop wouldn’t be such a bad thing. It’s not like she had anyone she could pal around with anyway. Without the job, she probably would have just spent the remainder of the summer curled up with a good book. At least the job would keep her mind off the upcoming school year. Hopefully.

  It wasn’t that Mandy had any problems with school, itself. She was smart and good grades came easily. She didn’t get into any trouble either. Ever. She figured she was what most people would classify as a wallflower. At her old school she had acquaintances that greeted her in the halls or the classrooms, but she didn’t have any real friends. She had never really clicked with anyone, girls or guys. She was about to be a senior and she still hadn’t even had a boyfriend. Mandy didn’t consider herself ugly, but neither would she call herself pretty. She was just average, way too average. She had boring brown hair that was that odd shade where you couldn’t tell if it was really light or dark. It hung straight and limp to her shoulders. There was no chance of a curl or even a wave being found in it. Her brown eyes, like her hair, were not light enough to be pretty and not dark enough to be enticing. She wore a little mascara to try to liven up her unnaturally short eyelashes, but it didn’t really help much. Her lips were not big and pouty nor thin and flirtatious. They were just dull, run of the mill lips. If anything was on them it was usually Mandy’s favorite peach lip-gloss. In the end, Mandy categorized herself as plain. Not quite ugly, but not quite pretty.

  Her wardrobe was acceptable. She couldn’t make up for her looks, so she at least tried fit in with her clothes
. Mostly she had a lot of plain colored thermal shirts and t-shirts, and jeans. Tons of jeans. Of course she didn’t own anything too short or too flashy. Her parents had made their expectations known from a young age and Mandy didn’t really feel the need to fight them on it. It’s not like she had a gorgeous body to show off anyway. Mandy was naturally thin, which she was thankful for, but she didn’t have an hourglass figure to accentuate like some of the girls at school did by any means.

  Here it was August and Mandy was actually chilly sitting in the car with the air conditioner blowing at her. She let her head rest on the cool glass of the window as she stared sullenly out at the passing fir trees that were just a blur of green along the gray road. Gray above, gray below, a strip of dark green in the middle separating the blandness. Almost there.

  Her mother put the car’s blinker on and began to exit the highway. They followed the green signs pointing them into the town of York Beach. Before long Mandy caught a glimpse of more grayness. The unending gray of the Atlantic blended seamlessly into the gray sky and crashed into white foam along the gray shore of Long Sands Beach. The rocks lining the top of the sand were also varying shades of gray. Gray, gray, gray. Mandy felt like she had just arrived in a colorless world.

  There were people on the beach despite the uncooperative weather. Young families with their blankets and towels spread out, lounging with books and magazines. Guys, by the looks of it close to Mandy’s age, trying to show off to the girls laying on the sand hoping for some glimpse of the sun to kiss their already perfectly bronzed skin. Children, oblivious to the cool day, splashing in the even cooler water or making drip castles in the sand. Mandy’s mother switched off the AC and rolled the windows down a bit. Mandy could hear the delighted shrieks of the children and the cries of the gulls as they waited for dropped French fries or bits of sandwiches and chips. She could smell the distinct smell of salt water and sand with the wafting smell of hamburgers mixed in from the Sun’n’Surf beachside restaurant. She watched the little sandpipers running distractedly in zigzags up and down where the shore met the sand. They always looked confused and worried to her. Running from something, but at the same time not knowing what or why. Of course they had the option of flight. Mandy wished she had that option right about now. She would fly away somewhere by herself. Somewhere far from here, and warm, the way a beach was supposed to be.

  The car drove on and Mandy found herself staring mindlessly at Nubble Light, the most photographed lighthouse on the east coast. It stood out at the precipice of a rocky clustering, alone and isolated on its own little island, blinking at Mandy as mindlessly as she felt. The waves crashed roughly against the gray boulders there, throwing its foam and mist angrily back to the sea. Mandy shuddered.

  “Mom, seriously, can you roll up the windows?” Mandy asked, exasperated. Did no one notice the chill here besides her?

  “Oh, Mandy. Relax! It’s summertime! You should be enjoying the breath of fresh air after all that city breathing!”

  “I like city breathing.”

  “Honey, you’re going to learn to like breathing here too. I promise. This is home now. You’re lucky, you know. Not many kids have their parents move them to the beach!”

  “Well, it doesn’t really count if it’s a cold, gray beach, Mom.”

  “Cheer up kid. I can feel this is going to be a good thing,” Mandy’s dad piped up now. A sigh escaped Mandy’s lips. Looked like she wasn’t going to get anywhere with this conversation. She let her head flop back against the seat as the car curved along the road.

  A few minutes later they pulled up to the white clapboard house that was now home. Nana was sitting on the front steps, watching. She got up and began waving at them, a little too excitedly for Mandy’s mood at the moment. Mandy wanted nothing more than to sit and sulk and be gray like her surroundings, to rub in it a little for her parents’ sake. But being around Nana would make that nearly impossible. Nana was such a bubbly, happy little person. She was petite, but her presence was unmistakable. She was always cheerful and her smile could warm you on the coldest day in January. She reminded Mandy of one of those perpetually happy robins on a spring day, always on the go, leaving its trilling songs behind it in its wake. Her teeth gleamed a shiny white, matching the color of her hair exactly. Her hair had always been the same. White, short, a bit of curl, but somehow it managed to not be old lady like. Her eyes were an interesting shade of green, lending even more charisma to Nana. They crinkled up in the most likeable way when she smiled. Her clothes were impeccable. She always wore a crisp blouse and freshly ironed pants, or slacks as Nana referred to them. Mandy wondered absently if Nana ever got sick of having to iron every day. Mandy couldn’t be bothered with her own appearance in that way. Of course, she supposed Nana had a reputation to uphold. Mandy continued to appraise her grandmother as her mother cut the engine. Plump, but not overly, it actually gave her a very soft, appealing look. Her skin was smooth and pretty. Milky white, like Mandy’s own shade, but with a healthy rosy look about it. Even her own grandmother had better looks than Mandy…and Nana was 75! Ridiculous.

  “Mandy! Come give Nana a hug, Sugarplum! It’s been too long!” her grandmother practically sang.

  “Nana, it’s hasn’t even been a year! You just visited at Christmas, remember?” Mandy pointed out.

  “Nonsense. That was months ago! Oh, I declare, looking at you is like a breath of fresh air!” Nana enveloped Mandy in her warm arms, breathing in the scent of her hair.

  “You don’t need me, Nana. You’re surrounded by fresh air here, right Mom?” Mandy laughed a little uncomfortably. She couldn’t help but notice the glance Nana threw at her mother, who just gave an answering shrug.

  “Come, come! Come see your new house!” Nana ignored Mandy’s mood and led Mandy by the hand up the three concrete stairs to the front door. Mandy had not seen the inside yet, except for a few pictures taken by the real estate agent for its listing. The pictures had shown it empty. Mandy knew it would not look the same now. Her grandmother had insisted that she be allowed to decorate the house for them. Some of their old furniture had been delivered, but Mandy had a feeling there would be new pieces in the mix. She was a little hesitant as she walked through the front door behind her grandmother. Nana practically looked like she would break into a skip at any moment. Well, at least this was making her grandmother happy. Nana deserved that.

  The moment she set foot inside she could smell the flowers. Of course there would be flowers. Mandy shouldn’t be surprised. Nana had all the flowers she could ever want at her disposal. Mandy inhaled the sweet fragrance and couldn’t help but feel more relaxed. It smelled like Nana. Warm, and comforting. They were in a domed entryway. To the left was a rather wide staircase that curved just a bit before heading up. At the end of the hallway connected to the entryway Mandy could see a cozy looking living room. There was a fireplace with a fire crackling in it, beckoning Mandy forward with its lovely heat. She walked forward, drawn to the fire like a moth to a flame. Finally, some warmth! She turned around to see what else the room held. Two oversized, flowery chairs were positioned on either side of the hearth, with a dark chocolate leather sofa directly across from it. Above the mantel hung a flat screen TV. Well, that’s a step-up from the old place, Mandy thought. Sitting on the mantel were three glass jars, all roughly the same size and with a bulgy roundness to them. In the first jar there were seashells, the second was a mix of gray beach rocks and sea glass, and the third had a layer of the dark sand with some gray liquid on top.

  “Nana, what is in there?” she asked.

  “Silly girl, it’s the sand and ocean. Thought you should have a piece inside as well,” Nana replied.

  “Why? We could go outside in our own backyard and splash in all its glory if we wanted,” Mandy observed, looking out the sliding glass doors that led to a deck, and just beyond it, the beach.

  “To remind you, Mandy. This is your home now,” Nana said with friendly eyes. “Be happy here, appreciate it. Th
is is who you are, who you always have been. Embrace it, rather than shun it.”

  Nana had always had the tendency to be overly dramatic. What was she talking about? Mandy was the beach? Mandy was Mandy. There was nothing to tie her here, to this gray environment, other than her age. She would deal with it for the next year, but she had plans to escape. College was her ticket out of here. And Mandy would take it and run with it. Far away. Maybe California. Southern, of course. She would definitely need some time in the sun after a whole year here tucked under grayness.

  Nana finished giving them a tour of the house. They had a nice kitchen with a little breakfast nook off to the side of it. Nana had painted it a sunny yellow, maybe to try to make up for the obvious lack of that element here. Upstairs was the only bathroom and it was a cool blue color. Fresh white curtains hung in the window, blowing ever so softly with the salt air. Her parents’ bedroom, an office, and then her own room.

  Mandy’s room was painted a jewel tone of purple, slightly darker than the color of dusk on a warm, hazy day. A four-poster wrought iron bed sat grandly in the middle of the room. A hot pink and juicy orange comforter covered the mattress, a stunning contrast to the purple walls. More color flooded the room from the zesty orange curtains fluttering in the breeze. Along the top of the wall above Mandy’s bed a line of glimmering lights hung like stars shining in the night. There was a desk next to the window with Mandy’s laptop already sitting atop it. A closet, a dresser with a mirror. A nightstand with a vase of Gerber daisies, and another of Nana’s odd jars with the ocean trapped in it. At the foot of the bed stood an antique looking trunk, ornately carved from a dark wood. Vines of roses climbed the four sides leading up to the curved top, which was adorned by a lovely carving of a woman’s face with hair piled atop of her head in an old-fashioned up-do. Stars seemed to be floating above her head with plump, little birds perched on top of them.