BVC Announces Family Reunion by Marissa Doyle
Family Reunion
A short story by
Marissa Doyle
Felicity Greendrake expects the same old relatives and their same old stories at her family reunion. That’s not quite what she’ll get…
Felicity Greendrake has always taken pride in her distinguished New England family, descended from bold sea captains and wealthy merchants. But when she helps organize a family reunion and meets a mysterious cousin from a long-lost branch of the Greendrake line, Felicity discovers that her family’s legacy may be far stranger—and more magical—than she ever imagined.
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Marissa Doyle intended to be an archaeologist but somehow got distracted, so instead she excavates tales of magic and history from the matrix of her imagination. Or something like that. She lives in MA with her family, her research library, and a bossy pet rabbit. Visit her online at www.marissadoyle.com.
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Family Reunion
Felicity Greendrake leaned against the wall by the kitchen door and surveyed the rented VFW hall. A welcome breeze of soft June air wafted past her from an open window and over the chatting, smiling people filling the room. Not everyone was here yet and the noise level was still nearly deafening. Well, that wasn’t too surprising. If there was one thing Greendrakes loved to do, it was talk. Especially about each other, because in their minds, there was no subject more fascinating.
Felicity had always been amused—not to mention bemused—by the self-absorption of her family, their belief that they were somehow superior, somehow special. No one had ever been able to give her a logical reason for this conviction, but it sure as heck had made her life easier these last several months, running the Greendrake family reunion. These every-other-year events were religiously attended by Greendrakes from near and far. Felicity had helped cousins from sixteen states and four foreign countries find hotels and rental cars, all for the sake of this giant family dinner.
She glanced at her phone. Nearly six, and no messages. That was good news, right? At least she hoped it meant James would be able to get here before the caterers started serving dinner. After all the months of texting and calls she was on pins and needles to meet him, to sit in a quiet corner (ha!) and talk to him in person… She straightened and flashed a smile at a passing cousin. No sitting down, at least for now. Not with a reunion to run.
“So how did you get saddled with running the Great Greendrake Clan-bake?” Mom had asked her last summer. “I thought that Bettina and Edgar were running it?”
“They were, but Uncle Edgar’s heart issues are getting worse and the doctors are talking about preemptive bypass surgery. Aunt Bettina’s not sure she can cope with it all so she asked if I wouldn’t mind helping her out.”
Mom sighed. “Oh, sweetie. I love you for it but you don’t have to always be the responsible one. And besides, you know that Bettina will make you do all the work and take all the credit.”
“Mom, you are such a cynic. She wouldn’t do that. And anyway, I’ll just be picking up the slack for her when things get rough. It’s no big deal.”
But Mom had been right, darn it. Felicity found herself booking the hall, ordering and mailing the invitations, handling the responses, and doing the hundred other tasks that came with organizing a big party because Bettina would call her and sigh, “Oh, Felicity, don’t you think you could talk to these five caterers and get estimates? Your poor uncle has appointments in Boston with three different specialists this week, and I won’t have a minute to even breathe.”
It wasn’t that she minded being responsible. It was in her blood, in a way. After the first Greendrakes had established the family reputation as merchant princes (with a dash of pirate) back before the Revolution, subsequent generations had turned in their captain’s hats for ledger books and merger negotiations. They’d become businessmen—astute, often brilliant ones, true—but it might have been nice if she’d inherited a little more buccaneer and a little less business school in her temperament.
And running the Greendrake family reunion hadn’t been all bad. It had brought James into her life.
Late in February she’d opened an e-mail with the subject line “Long lost cousin—I hope?” The e-mail had been from a James Dorian Greendrake VIII, explaining that he’d just moved to Portland, Maine—about two hours away from her home outside Boston—and read an item in the local paper about a Greendrake family reunion.
Bettina had said something about sending out reunion announcements to a few out-of-state papers around New England, but somehow had forgotten to mention that she’d put Felicity’s email address on it as contact. Felicity had sighed and written a cordial note back:
“Since my umpteenth great-grandfather was James Dorian Greendrake the first, I can’t see how we’re not cousins, though very distantly. This is so exciting—most of us thought that his oldest great-grandson, James IV, had died without issue as a young man on a trip to the Far East. Evidently, he didn’t! What a wonderful coincidence that you saw the reunion announcement—you’re coming, of course? You must, so that all the Greendrake genealogists can salivate over you and start revising their family trees.”
James had written back right away, and a lively e-mail correspondence had arisen between them. At first they’d talked about Greendrake genealogy, but gradually about other things too, like the ups and downs of James’s new job as VP of sales for a biotech start-up in Portland. E-mails were soon replaced with strings of texts during lunch and chatting on the phone for hours each night. Felicity confessed her secret desire to dump her loan officer position at the bank and go back to art school to get her MFA. James opened up about how hard it had been to deal with the recent death of his father in a car accident. They became, in short, friends.
And tonight she’d finally meet him, if he could get away from his conference in Boston on time.