Subj: Where are the Angels Chapter Seven
Date: 5/18/00 11:17:39 AM Central Daylight Time
From: Melissa

“Mon pauvre chérie,” Angelique’s mother said as she held her daughter. The two woman looked as if they could be sisters.

“I don’t know how I could have been so foolish. I should have gone with him when he asked me.”

“Why didn’t you go?” asked Emilie Bouchard.

“Because I was afraid. I told him that I couldn’t go because you sick.”

“Now why did you do that?”

“I felt as if there was still something for me here, that I need to stay here for. I felt that I would be lost if I didn’t stay, but now I lost the love of my life.”

“And how do you know he’s the one for you?” her mother asked.

“I could feel it in every pore of my body. When were together I felt more alive.”

“But you felt that something was missing.”

“Yes, but it didn’t have anything to do with my relationship with Barnabas.”

“And that is why you didn’t go with him.”

“Yes, Mama. I made such a mistake.”

Emilie rose and took her daughter into her bedroom, “I have something to show you.” She went to her chiffonnier that she had for as long as Angelique could remember. She opened one of the drawers and took out a large wood box, that was beautifully carved and several old books.

She motioned for Angelique to sit on the bed. She brought the things over and sat beside her daughter. She opened the box and removed a smaller box. She closed the first one and opened the smaller. Inside Angelique saw that they were photographs.

“This is your grandmother, Annette,” Emilie said holding out the photo. “It was taken on her wedding day, that’s your grandfather Cedric,” she picked up another photograph, it was one of a handsome blonde man, who looked seriously
into the camera.

“Grandma was so beautiful,” Angelique said.

“Yes she was,” her mother said, “Here’s a picture of her mother.”

“What was her name?”

“Josephine, and that’s my grandfather, his name was Philippe. She was seventeen when they were married.” They went through several more photos of Annette and Josephine. “Oh here’s a photo of Josephine’s mother, Anne-Marié,” Emilie said handing Angelique the old photograph.

“How old is she here?”

“Fifteen I believe. Here’s one with Josephine and her husband, Richard.”

“Why are you showing me these photographs?” asked Angelique.

“Because I wanted to show you where you came from.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said that you felt like something was missing, I know what that thing is. You are like you grandmother and great-grandmother, like I am like mine. You have a special power that has been passed on to you. It is passed to the first daughter of every other generation.”

“I don’t understand, what kind of power?” Angelique asked.

“You have a power that very few people have.”

“Are you saying that I am a witch?”

“Some people call it that, your grandma wouldn’t have.”

She gave Angelique the books, “These are the journals that have been passed down, they can tell you all the things that you will need to know.” She opened the wooden box again and showed Angelique the bottles and trinkets that were inside. “These are for you, your grandmother left them for you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” Angelique asked.

“Because you were not ready to learn yet.”

Angelique spent the rest of the night, reading the journals, she could feel a change in her soul. She felt content in finding what she had been lacking for so many years. She only wished that she had learned of her heritage earlier, maybe then she would still have Barnabas.

“Wait a minute,” she said dropping one of the books into her lap, “I can make him mine again.”

She went to work, learning the craft the women of her family had known for centuries, with a determination, she would have the man she loved once again.

To be continued. . .