The Last Great American Dynasty - A Folklore Novella

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The

Last

Great

American

Dynasty


A Novella


By Lisa Rae Yamagishi


Copyright © 2023 Lisa Rae Yamagishi

All rights reserved. Published by YamaBookz

This book is a work of fiction.


Book design by Lisa Rae Yamagishi




For every Swiftie. 



1. Marjorie

2. Betty

3. Bad Blood

4. The Last Great American Dynasty

5. Now That We Don't Talk

6. Champagne Problems

7. Illicit Affairs

8. Epiphany

9. No Body No Crime

10. "Slut!"

11. Tis The Damn Season

12. Mad Woman

13. You're On Your Own, Kid




"If nothing saves us from death,

at least love should save us from life."

– Pablo Neruda



Chapter One

Marjorie


A young and vulnerable Marjorie stepped off the train platform and started down the tunnel of wind-filled steps-her vision blurred by all the tears streaming down her red cheeks, sticking to her dimples. The sun shone down, and the sky above her was that perfect clear sky blue. It was the beginning of summer, 1944, and she had just said goodbye to the love of her life. Her boyfriend John had just left for training to be a medic in the war, and she didn't know when she would see him again.

She played with her necklace as she sauntered down the steps. What was she going to do now? She needed something to fill the void of worrying about John. She was out of university and in the city until August. She needed to keep her mind occupied and herself busy. She wanted to help with the war but didn't know how. She had no training in anything other than music and regular school. She wasn't looking forward to getting out of bed in the morning without John. Just waiting for him to come back and hoping the war would be over soon. She felt sick with worry and wanted an escape. The war had not been kind to anyone, and John was likely to be shipped off to Europe in the coming weeks. The world had felt upside down the last few years. She was grateful to be in America because the horrors she heard and read about in Europe terrified her. Marjorie had found herself floundering through it all, feeling helpless and angry.

Marjorie continued down the tunnel of steps of the train station, rushing past strangers who had no idea of the inner turmoil she was experiencing. No one noticed her ill with worry. No one noticed because they were all sick with worry for someone they loved too. Sons, boyfriends, husbands, daughters. Marjorie felt so silly for worrying about what to do with her summer, it was such a small problem to have when the entire world was at war with each other.

Her thoughts were stopped completely when she felt the weight of another person fall into her from behind her on the steps.

Shocked by the collision, she lifted herself to see a lady on the ground beside her. The lady appeared to be in her early forties, was dressed very well, draped with many pieces of elegant jewelry, and exuded a strong scent of perfume.

"Oh my goodness, darling. I am so sorry!" the lady said, and Marjorie felt relieved to be lifted of any of the blame of the impact.

Once they had brushed themselves off from the embarrassment of the fall, they got to talking and Marjorie quickly learned the lady's name was Rebekah. Rebekah knew that Marjorie was having a bad day as soon as she saw her eyes. Rebekah was one of those people who could talk to anyone and within five minutes she had learned all about their entire life story. She was good at asking other people questions. Conversations came naturally to Rebekah, especially when she was talking to a young person. She was so curious about certain people; she could read them like a book. Rebekah had excellent intuition and judgment of character. She liked Marjorie right away, without hesitation. When Rebekah learned that Marjorie was a music student and singer, she became very excited.

"You could stay with me this summer at my Holiday House! I help organize a charity that helps injured soldiers and veterans. You can sing your opera to them! I also host a ballet organization, so my house is just full of young artists just like yourself! It would be amazing. You must join me! You just must! Here, let me write my address down for you. I will be expecting you; I can even send you a car! They will take you to the house."

Rebekah had a coercive way about her when she spoke. There was no room for interruption. She was saying the next thought almost before she had completed the one before. Marjorie appeared to need a bit of friendship in Rebekah's eyes. She wanted her to come help fill the Holiday House with good energy and artistry. After all, she didn't think there was a point in having all her money if she didn't spend it to help others realize their dreams and aspirations, or at least to have a great time for the summer while still young. Plus, her children were just a bit younger than Marjorie, and they always seemed to be against her. They hadn't come to the Holiday House this summer, as they were too busy with their own lives. Rebekah hated to see the Holiday House empty and couldn't stand it when it was so quiet, so she filled it up with people like Marjorie - young, talented, up-and-coming ballerinas and musicians.

Marjorie couldn't protest the idea. It was better than working in the city for the summer. She loved the idea of spending a summer on the coast, surrounded by other artists. Rebekah seemed kind and interesting. It was refreshing for Marjorie to meet Rebekah after having to say goodbye to John. It felt like fate that she had bumped into Rebekah that afternoon.

When Marjorie pulled up to the Holiday House, she was struck by the size and beauty. It was not just a house, and even the title of "mansion" really didn't describe it with proper justice. A white gate separated the driveway from the street, tucking the house back behind a beautifully landscaped hillside. The driveway was a long roundabout that pulled up to a pillared front door with stairs leading up to a large porch. Multiple sprawling balconies looked over the cliffs towards the abyss of the Atlantic Ocean, peering down towards a sandy beach, sending its heavy waves breathing back onto the shoreline.

Marjorie had no idea just who she had bumped into at the train station until this moment. This was the house that people whispered about in New York gossip, stories and lore that had once had massive famous parties throughout the 1920s and before the war had started. All the stories she had heard at the bar with her classmates and within the dorm hall. Rebekah Harkness was infamous for her reputation as a socialite and a legend who had married a man named William, who was the heir to the Standard Oil fortune. The Holiday House was said to have once had pools full of champagne, big bands and parties, ballets, men and "the Bitch Pack". Marjorie had found herself wrapped up with Rebekah for a summer she would never forget.

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