The Ice Princess

Prologue Desiré Andersen stands with her eyes closed on the darkened stage at Club Café in Boston. The first beat of “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)” by Beyoncé starts, and the crowd applauds. The lights go up onstage revealing Desiré dressed exactly in a one sleeved black unitard and her hair in a half-up/half-down beehive; her backup dancers Jerome Hart and Curtis Züniga are dressed in sleeveless black unitards with half-up/half-down beehive wigs. Desiré looks out at the crowd as she’s performing and catches a glimpse of someone walking away; she recognizes those eyes in the sea of people, but continues with the dance routine. Cell phones with their video cameras illuminate the room. After the last beat of the song, the lights go out onstage; the crowd once again explodes with applause. Moments later walking through the crowd she sees her people: her adoptive parents Ritchard & Kimberly Andersen along with their son Bryant and daughters Monica & Rachel, her former coworkers Steven Maine & Krissy Lee, Monica’s boyfriend couldn’t make it, but Desiré’s is there; well her fiancé now. He stands staring at her, before she walks over and hugs him. While kissing him, she stares into one of the overhead lights as her previous life as Elijah Davis flashes before her. Chapter 1 Six year-old me plays with the tie of my black suit in the front row of the Springfield Funeral Parlor; while my mother stumbles towards the open casket. The black veil from her black pillbox hat barely conceals the mascara streaks on her dark brown face. One of her black gloved hands is firmly planted over the chest of her black dress suit; the other locked around my brother. Taking the jacket off of his black suit Dorian tries his best to hold our mother up as she walks closer to the casket. Staring at her husband peacefully resting in the casket, she sobs uncontrollably. Elijah walks up to comfort her, but Dorian pushes him back; defeated Elijah plops back into his seat swinging his legs back and forth under his seat. She throws herself onto the casket. Dorian and a few attendants peel her off it. I stand with a confused look on my face. Why’s mommy upset? I thought to myself. And why’s daddy in that weird bed? Four years later ten year-old me is in the front seat of the packed Ford Station Wagon as it turns on the road leading into Pheasant Hill Village in Feeding Hills (located south of Springfield, MA near the Connecticut border). Sixteen year-old Dorian is in the back seat listening to his Walkman with his earphones on with our mother drives. “Wow, Mommy, this place looks beautiful,” I exclaimed. Just then Dorian kicks under my seat. “Mommy, Dorian kicked my seat.” “Dorian, stop kicking the seat!” Dorothea says while looking into the rear view mirror. Dorian innocently retorts, “I didn’t. He’s making it up. Remember how he made up that other story.” My mother pulls the car over onto the side of Pheasant Run Drive. She looks disapprovingly at me. “What did I tell you about making things up?” “No, but he’s fibbing. I don’t fib.” I protest. Our mother sighs before finally putting the Station Wagon in “Park.” She grips the wheel. “Now, we are in a new town. We are away from all that bad energy we had to endure since your father died. Do you think he’d want you acting up like this? Think about that.” I stare at my mother and can read in her eyes. I’m not your favorite child. “I’m sorry” is the only thing I could muster. I turn away and look out the window. This isn’t gonna be as fun as I thought. My mother smiles at me as she rubs the top of his head. She looks in the rear view mirror at Dorian’s smirk. She again sighs to herself. If Dorian gets this behavior out now, maybe he won’t feel the need to express himself later. He’s a good kid just acting out because of his father’s passing. She thinks to herself. She managers a smile back at me as she looks up at the townhouse door to 36 Pheasant Run Drive. "I have so much hope that these kids get along." she whisper low enough for me to hear almost like she's talking to herself. She turns fully around and looks at Dorian whose smirk changes to a smile before turning back around. "I remember how helpful Dorian was when Kendrick and I brought Elijah home as a baby. Elijah’s first few years of life where spent with Dorian’s constant hovering over him. It wasn’t until Elijah turned five Dorian’s utter distain for Elijah’s existence began to show. I can’t seem to figure out why or what it was that changed." Dorian still shaking his head to the music from his Walkman looks out the car window; he sees nothing. He rolls his eyes. The thought of now having to share a bedroom with someone I hate, someone I wish were never born, but also someone I will make miserable the entire time we are here. He smiles at the last thought as he turns the volume up on his Walkman. Eight year-old Alicia Andersen saunters up with her siblings six year-old triplets Bryant, Monica, and Rachel. The blond hair freckled face foursome stand at the car window. They wave and smile at me. I smile back and turn to my mother. She nods as he opens the car door. The adorable blond foursome back up to give me room to get out.