Bridge Over Spooky Water: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novella by JB Lassalle

Author:JB Lassalle [Lassalle, JB]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mighty Oak Publishing Services, LLC
Published: 2023-10-04T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

Later that night, after declining Lafitte’s offer for company, I crawled into bed with a full mind and an empty stomach. Propping my head in my hands, I stared at the ceiling and let myself digest all the information he’d fed me.

Talia had been drawn to the island and built a home for herself and her daughter Cordelia. She was the reason it became a waystation, it would seem, as she wanted others to have a safe haven to discover themselves. It was here she’d nursed her broken heart after someone Lafitte had referred to as that Irish rogue broke her heart.

Given that Lafitte was much of a rogue himself, I wondered at how bad my great-great-grandfather must have been. Talia’s daughter Cordelia hadn’t spent much time on the island at all, and it seemed had chosen the mermaid’s life early on. I was still unclear who my grandmother’s father was. Lafitte had been cagey about that.

Cordelia returned with a daughter in tow, dropped her at Talia’s feet, and swam away.

I wished I remembered more of Nerida, my grandmother. Especially now that I knew we had that in common. She’d been the last to truly love Bridge House, the last to choose it and raise her family here because she wanted to and not out of obligation.

Ruth, who it seemed was always meant to be landbound, and my mother were both placeholders. Waiting until I was old enough to make my own choices. And though I’d stumbled, pride swelled within me.

“We were meant for each other, weren’t we?”

Took you long enough the house whispered into my heart, and we shared a chuckle.

The house was definitely a woman. She was all of us, my family line. She was a nurturer, a source of comfort, and a place to find the necessities of life: food, a bed, companionship. I didn’t just own Bridge House. I was a part of it.

And being a part of something eased the pain of the many times I’d been rejected. That connection was enough to soothe the places in me I’d only begun to heal. While my Pop may not have made the best choices, he’d always accepted me. In fact, his acceptance had made him terrified to lose me.

It was time to stop focusing on the ones who hadn’t been able to see me for who I am. I’d moved on from Daniel and, for the most part, my mother’s rejection. This was where I belonged. That feeling of wholeness from earlier in the evening returned. Knowing who I was and what I was meant for had to be the key to helping others.

And yet, a thread of frustration still weaved through me. Lafitte had known my ancestors, and he’d known what they’d done at the waystation. But he couldn't tell me how. Maybe no one could, but Lafitte had not even tried.

Instead, he’d tried to get me out of my dress. Multiple times.

My mouth watered. I was hungry, but I couldn’t figure out what for.

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