The Last Great American Dynasty - A Folklore Novella

You're On Your Own, Kid

Chapter Thirteen

You're On Your Own, Kid

When Betty got home from Emma's house, she still felt confused about James even though the kiss they had shared was amazing and so real. He had treated her like such garbage all semester. Their story didn't have a good start. The plot was flawed, and they were already broken. But their kiss last night had felt so magical and James seemed to really be sorry for everything he had done to her. She picked up her guitar and tried to work through her feelings for him through writing and playing music.

The next day was Christmas Eve. Betty's Mom was working, and she needed to get out of the house. Marjorie had always made Christmas Eve feel so special, it felt strange to not have her around. Betty looked at the address written on the envelope of Marjorie's letter in Rhode Island, and she looked up the directions. It was a long journey, a two-and-a-half-hour drive, but she decided it would be worth the effort to see the Holiday House in real life. She felt like she needed to go there to be closer to Marjorie. She felt it was worth the risk, so she stole Marjorie's old Buick, which had still sitting untouched in the garage since the morning that Marjorie had died. Betty prayed she wouldn't be pulled over and grabbed the keys. Betty's mom hadn't had the time, energy, or heart to sell the little car yet. Betty figured she had that driving lesson from James, and Marjorie's car was an automatic, so she had assumed it would be easy. The journey was nerve-wracking, people passed and honked at Betty, yelling profanities as they went by. She felt like she was going a bit slow, but didn't understand why they were so mad about that - wasn't it better than speeding?

Betty pulled up to the address as her phone said she had arrived. Betty was in awe sitting in front of the closed gates of the Holiday House. It was more amazing than she ever could have imagined, but you could only get a tiny glimpse of it from the road where the driveway pulled off and the gates shut. She had already committed grand theft auto of a dead woman's car today, and she wasn't about to get arrested for trespassing. Just being near the house made her feel closer to Marjorie, and it was enough for her... She drove down the street slowly and discovered a long path that led down to the beach cove the house sat overlooking. The tide was out, and Betty could walk far out along the shore. She stared up at the neighborhood mansions. She thought about all the people that had lived in these houses before. She thought about her Grandma Marjorie walking along the exact shore she was on. It all felt a bit magical and surreal. Betty felt at peace. She found a large log with a view of the Holiday House and tried to get comfortable. She began to play her guitar.

It started to snow heavily. She had never seen snow on the beach. It was so beautiful yet weird. Betty noticed that the way the sand had been left by the tide and the snow falling and collecting on top of it created an illusion as though someone had been dancing on it. The Holiday House looked lonely and a bit sad in the darkness of the late afternoon winter. She stared at the house and thought about the letters she had read and about what Marjorie had told John about the real Rebekah. There was one light on in the upstairs area of the house. Betty thought that was a bit odd, considering there were no other signs of anyone being home.

She continued to play some music, thankful that the beach was empty and no one seemed to notice or care that she was on it. Her guitar case fell off the log and landed on its side with the case open.

She picked it up. Something was inside the bottom part of the interior pocket of the velvet case and had become loose. She turned it upside down and shook it around. It was surprisingly difficult to get it to drop it out, it just kept sloshing around the inside of the case.

Then she saw the diamonds fall and land in the sand on the beach in front of her feet. It was Marjorie's extravagant diamond bracelet. Betty recognized the bracelet from one of Marjorie's old photos but had never seen her grandma wear it in person. The letters love sparkled in the reflection of the snow and Betty could hear the words in Marjorie's soft, caring, and sweet voice, whispering to her, "You're on your own, kid."

Betty stared at the bracelet in shock. It was beautiful. It was the original friendship bracelet. She was struck with awe and gratitude to her grandma for secretly leaving it to her. She didn't know how much it was worth nowadays, but it didn't matter because she wouldn't ever dream of selling it. It was now hers, and she knew Marjorie wanted her to keep it, and use it to remember to always try to be fearless.

Betty stood up to go home. It was snowing even harder now and driving in the snow seemed like a terrible idea. She suddenly felt rushed. As she walked up the beach back to the warmth of the Buick, she imagined a new future. She knew she would most likely have many loves in her life. James clearly had some kind of hold on her, and though it felt like love, she already knew deep down that he was not the one for her. She deserved to have love that Marjorie would be proud of. Someone who would always treat her with respect and dignity from the beginning, someone who loved her and appreciated her no matter what was happening around them. Someone who would be loyal to her and excited about her goals, dreams, and aspirations. There would be no questions of would've, could've or should've, like James had about her this past year. There would only be undeniable and unquestionable pure love.

The chords from Rebekah and Marjorie's song were stuck in Betty 's head the whole nerve-wracking drive back and kept her focused while driving home as safely as she could in the snow. When she finally got home safely, she ran upstairs to her room and immediately started writing new lyrics in her notebook in the safety of her warm bedroom.

Betty had a lot of writing to do. Mr. Stephens had already set the date for the next music club meeting in January, and she had many songs within her that she needed to write and share with the world.

About the Author
Lisa Rae Yamagishi lives in the Okanagan Valley in British Columbia, Canada. She spends all of her time with her 2 kids, 2 dogs, and her hilarious husband. She enjoys writing YA and Children's Fiction. She is an English and creative writing teacher, an avid snowboarder, and a lifelong Swiftie. Her goal is to make people feel connected and laugh with her books, and to become a full-time author someday.