A Breath of Magic

by Tracy Madison

  I nodded, fighting back tears, refusing to cry in front of him. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

  “That I do.” He stared at me for a few more seconds. Opening the back door, he stepped out and walked away. I don’t know if he looked back. I don’t know if he paused. All I know is that the door slammed shut and he was gone.

  My tears came. No way in hell could I stop them. They streamed down my face in a never-ending rush. My throat clogged and I had a difficult time drawing air into my lungs. Whatever had happened at the tail end of my spell with Ben had seemed to heal every pain I’d lived with for the past year. For longer, really. Except for the pain that mattered the most: losing the man I loved.

  I pulled myself upright and grabbed the drawing from the table. Gathering the other three, in a defiant move I ripped all four of them into shreds and tossed them into the trash. Whatever my future was going to hold, whatever fate waited around the bend, it didn’t exist in these pictures. Because even without Ben I wasn’t going to throw in the towel. My life was worth more than that.

  I hoped and prayed and pleaded that Ben would find his way back to me. That he would somehow see into my heart and begin to believe in me again. But if he didn’t, I’d forge a new future, and I didn’t need a freaking drawing to show me what that would be. Not anymore.

  Chapter Twenty

  Three days later, after nearly delaying my trip to Seattle because the thought of leaving without hearing from Ben seemed incomprehensible, I pulled my rented car into Sheridan’s driveway directly behind a silver Mazda and let out a sigh. I’d made it.

  Turning the car off, I took stock of Sheridan’s home. She lived on the outskirts of the city, in a newer neighborhood with about seven different styles of houses dotting the streets, several in the process of being built and plenty of empty lots still for sale. Her house had muted blue siding, shuttered windows, and looked neat, tidy and damn near perfect. Pretty much like Sheridan herself.

  My stomach dipped as I forced myself from the car. The butterflies increased with every step. When I reached her miniscule front porch I heard music playing, and that spun my nervousness to even greater heights. How long had it been since I stood in the same space as Sheridan? Years. Way too many.

  I banged on the door, lightly at first and then with more force when she didn’t answer. That didn’t do the trick, either, so I rang her doorbell and waited.

  Another couple of minutes passed, and a flurry of fear skittered over me. What if she’d looked out her window, seen me and decided not to let me in? As ridiculous as the thought was, it settled in, increasing my anxiety even more. So I twisted the doorknob and pushed, expecting the door to be locked. It wasn’t.

  I stuck my head in, noting that her living room was the same as I’d seen in my vision with Miranda. Swallowing, I perused the space, my gaze flickering past her plum-colored sofa, the television, her bookshelf and the two oversized chairs that rested in front of the window. But no sister.

  Hesitantly, I stepped completely inside and closed her door behind me, feeling like an intruder. “Sheridan?” I called out, trying to raise my voice above the music. Since she didn’t appear, I must not have been successful.

  I deposited my purse on one of the chairs and went to find my sister. A narrow hallway jutted off the side of the room, so I followed that. Before I reached the end, I saw her in the kitchen. She stood at the counter with her back to me, preparing dinner. Her hips swayed back and forth to the beat of the music, and her strawberry blonde hair was tied into a loose ponytail.

  Tears gathered in my eyes as I watched her. I opened my mouth to get her attention but then snapped it shut again. Suddenly, I felt like a fool. Who did I think I was, traveling across the country to pop in on my sister without her okay?

  A hard knot of emotion came undone in my chest, wrenching a sob from my throat. God, I’d missed her. I lifted my fingers to wipe away tears, wanting to hide my emotions before making myself known. But she must have heard or sensed me, because she reached over and powered off the old-fashioned-looking boom box sitting on her counter. Then she jerked around in a quick, defensive motion and raised the knife she held, ready to attack.

  She started to lunge forward. Fast. I screamed, recognizing the fear and intent in her eyes. When they latched on to me, when she realized who I was, the knife fell from her grasp. It hit the floor with a noisy clatter. “Chloe?”

  “Thank you for not killing me.” I spoke in a shaky whisper but with complete seriousness, because for a second there I truly thought we were about to become one of those weird tragedy headlines. “I didn’t mean to scare you. But you didn’t hear me knock and the door was open. So I…um…came in.”

  Slicking her hands down the front of her jeans, she stared at me with round eyes, as if she couldn’t believe I was really standing there. Her chin quivered. Her lips trembled. Then she started laughing in huge, gulping bursts. “Oh. Oh, God. I—I—Fuck, Chloe! I could have stabbed you!”

  I too began to laugh. Hysterically. “Y-you should have seen your expression when you turned around,” I sputtered. “I was sure you were going to strike first and ask questions later.”

  “I nearly did!” She retrieved the knife from the floor and dropped it into the sink, then placed her hands on her hips, her emotions finally under control. “Why are you here?” And that sounded like my sister: straight and to the point.

  “Because I miss you.”

  She arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “So you hopped on an airplane without calling?”

  “I did call! Repeatedly. But you haven’t returned any of my messages.”

  Her lips pursed in confusion. Striding to the other side of the kitchen, she grabbed her cell and flipped through her directory of calls received. “I don’t know whom you were calling, but it wasn’t me. There aren’t any phone calls from you listed here.”

  “That would be because I called your home phone.” I rattled off the numbers I now knew by heart. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for over a week.”

  Her lips quirked, but a glimmer of annoyance drifted over her. “Uh-huh. Do you ever check your freaking e-mail?”

  “Of course I do! And I answer your e-mails when I get them, but you didn’t bother responding to even one of my messages.” The hurt I’d mostly ignored sprang to life. “Why didn’t you call me back?”

  She sighed in exasperation. “Probably because I wrote you and told you that I’d decided it was silly to have a home phone and a cell phone, so I was dropping the home number.” Her lips twitched again, but I didn’t think with humor. “Like fourteen months ago.”

  Wow, had it really been that long since we’d talked? “Oh.” The e-mail sort of rang a bell. So she hadn’t been avoiding me. Relief barreled in, replacing the hurt. “I…guess I forgot. I always called you on the home number. They must have reissued it, because I definitely was reaching someone’s voice mail.”

  “Maybe, but it wasn’t mine.”

  With that question taken care of, we stood there and stared at each other, frozen in place. Sheridan turned around abruptly, as if the moment was too uncomfortable. I didn’t blame her. With her back to me, she asked, “So, you said you missed me?”

  “Yes. I…I don’t know what happened to put this distance between us, but I’m sick of it. I want you back in my life, Sheri.” I used her nickname from when we were kids, hoping to soften her defenses. “I want my sister back.”

  When she looked at me again, her eyes were shiny. She took one step forward but stopped. “Yes,” she said. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Now, do you want to stay here for dinner, or shall we go out?”

  “Here. I didn’t fly to Seattle to go out to dinner.”

  “I’ll finish cooking, then. Are you staying for the weekend?” I nodded, and she tipped her head toward the hallway. “Well, I suppose there’s no sense in you staying at a hotel. You might as well stay here, I guess.” Her words were crisp, almost pointed. “Go get your b
ags. The guest room is the first door on the right.”

  Gee, that didn’t sound too welcoming, but I’d take what I could get. “I’d like that. When I get back, I can help you make dinner.”

  “There’s no need. I have everything under control, Chloe.” She blinked, and in a slightly softer manner said, “You’re probably tired from your flight. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

  “Wh-what’s on the menu?” I didn’t really care. I wasn’t even that hungry, but I wanted her to keep talking.

  “Salad. Grilled salmon.” She shrugged. “It’s strange, but I stopped at the store on the way home and bought two fillets. As if I knew I’d need to feed two tonight.”

  “Maybe you did?” I crossed the room and pulled her into a hug. While she didn’t resist, she held her body ramrod straight, so the embrace came off as awkward and rigid. We separated quickly. “I’m really glad to see you.”

  She pressed her lips together but didn’t speak. I pivoted on my heel to get my bag, but also to give her a few minutes to deal with the surprise of my unannounced visit. Right before I left the kitchen, I heard her whisper, “I’m glad to see you too.”

  A few minutes later, I flopped down on the bed she gave me, everything inside warming as I glanced around the room. The billowy white curtains, the antique furnishings, the touches of soft color here and there—not to mention the various framed photos of me and Sheridan that sat on the nightstands—all told me that this room had been decorated with me in mind. And if she’d done that, then I’d been in her thoughts as much as she’d been in mine. We definitely had a chance.

  I sat there until Sheridan called me for dinner, trying to unwind, trying to figure out how to reach my sister. When I sat down across from her, I decided to let her take the lead.

  Our conversation started off stilted, nearly as awkward as our hug, but by the end of the meal, we were becoming more comfortable with each other. Thank God for that. After our meal, we brought the bottle of wine with us into the living room. With each sip, our conversation flowed smoother and easier, and before too long we were flipping through Sheridan’s photo albums. Memories swarmed in, and that was what finally broke the ice between us. Suddenly, I had my sister back.

  From that moment on, for the next two hours we spent equal amounts of time giggling and crying as we recalled our lives with our parents before we’d moved in with our aunt. Not that Aunt Lu was horrible, because she wasn’t. She’d taken care of us in her way, and had definitely given us the best home she could. But she’d never wanted children, didn’t have a natural affinity with us, and likely didn’t have a clue how to meet two grieving children’s emotional needs. We had every material thing we required, meals were put on the table at appropriate times and we were never left completely alone. But it stopped there.

  I’m not sure if she ever told us she loved us. Hell, I’m not sure if she ever did love us. She’d married several years back and now lived in South Carolina. Maybe I’d call her at some point and try to find a way to bridge the gap between us. For one, I wasn’t a child anymore, and also, nothing was impossible. And she was, after all, just as much my family as Sheridan.

  When we’d looked at the last photo and the bottle of wine was empty, I decided to pull up my biggirl pants and ask Sheridan about the past. Clearing my throat, I twisted around on the sofa so I could see her. “I still don’t understand what happened to change us, Sheri. I thought for a while it was because I moved into the dorms when I went to college and left you alone with Aunt Lu. But we were fine those first couple of years. So…I guess I’m just confused.” I touched her hand. “If…if you don’t mind talking about it, I’d like to know.”

  She narrowed her blue-green eyes. “Your memories are different than mine. We weren’t fine, Chloe. I only saw you once a month or so. And you rarely called.”

  An immediate defensive edge hardened over me. I set it aside because, as much as the words hurt, they were truthful. “I’m sorry. I was still reeling from Kyle, and then later I became so focused on school that I…I guess I forgot you might still need me. You always seemed bubbly and happy whenever we talked.”

  “I didn’t want to worry you, but of course I needed you. You know how Aunt Lu was. She nitpicked every last thing. Way worse than when you were there.” Her voice remained calm, but my sister angrily twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “By the time I graduated from high school, all I wanted was to get out of that house.”

  “And away from me? Is that why you came here for school? Because I’d let you down so much?” Even with her explanation, I couldn’t quite grasp the reasoning for her cold-shoulder treatment.

  “Yes and no.” She covered her eyes with her hands as a shiver stole over her. “I don’t know if I want to tell you this. I’ve worked to move on. Letting that part of my life go has been a struggle.”

  “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. But I love you, Sheri.” Obviously, this was about far more than my behavior back then, even if I had indeed been selfish and overly focused on myself. I tugged her hands away from her face. “Look at me, kiddo. I’m still your big sister.”

  Numerous emotions whisked over her as she thought about my statement. She rolled her upper lip between her teeth, trying to decide if she wanted to spill her secret. I squeezed her hand, and that one little gesture pushed her forward.

  “I had a baby,” she blurted. “And I gave her up for adoption. That’s why I moved. I didn’t want you to know I’d screwed up so badly. And since then I haven’t known how to be around you, so I kept my distance.”

  “What?” I heard her words. I understood them, even. But wow.

  “Yes, Chloe. Your perfect little sister isn’t so perfect. Aunt Lu was driving me up a wall with all of her rules, and I was lonely. So, you know, I was a cliché. Got myself knocked up right after graduation.” A strangled laugh choked out of her. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t get pregnant on purpose. But that doesn’t make it any less of a cliché.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have helped you! If you’d wanted to keep the baby, if you wanted to give her up, whatever you wanted, I would’ve stood by you and helped you.” I shook my head, half-blind with tears. “I cannot believe you came here all by yourself and went through that. And I never knew!”

  “I tried once,” she admitted, her voice soft and hesitant. “We met for lunch, and I planned on telling you. But you kept saying how proud you were of me. I couldn’t bear to ruin it.” She lifted her shoulders in a faint shrug. “The more I thought about it, the more sense it made to just get away. So I used my portion of the money Mom and Dad left us to support myself here for the first year, and then, after I had the baby and gave her up, I went to school.”

  “I can’t imagine.” I shook my head again, trying to come to terms with this new information. “H-how did you manage all on your own? Who drove you to the hospital when you were in labor? Who was with you when you had the baby? Oh, sweetie, I’m so, so sorry you didn’t feel you could tell me.”

  “It was a private adoption. The couple I chose were terrific. They helped me hugely, and they drove me to the hospital and stayed with me through delivery. And they held their baby almost as soon as she was born.” She said this last part almost as if she were trying to convince herself and not me.

  “Okay. Well…good. I’m glad you had support. I just wish it could’ve been me.” Another thought hit. I wasn’t sure if I should ask, but I did anyway. “Because the adoption was private, do the parents send you pictures and updates?” I thought that if they did, I’d like to see a picture. “She’d be how old now?”

  “Twelve. But I agreed to zero contact after the final papers were signed. It’s better that way. I don’t see how I could’ve moved on while getting updates and pictures. But they know that someday, if she asks, they can give her my name. So maybe…well, maybe someday she’ll show up.” Emotion shimmered in Sheridan’s eyes. “I made the right choice. For her and for me. I have never d
oubted that. But I never held her in my arms, I never looked into her eyes and I never kissed her. I regret that.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” I held my arms out and Sheridan scooted closer. I squeezed her to me in a tight hug. “I am so sorry,” I whispered in her ear. “I am so sorry you dealt with that alone.”

  “It sucked. But it was my choice.” Pulling herself back, she wiped the wetness from her cheeks. “You’re here now, though. And I’m so glad you are.”

  I nodded, but at that second something Miranda said reverberated in my head. She wanted all of her daughters to recognize each other. And here was another daughter, another link in our family tree, who would someday have the right to our magic.

  “What are you thinking, Chloe? You have an odd expression on your face.”

  Plastering on a smile, I gave a partial truth. “Just wishing I could’ve been with you.”

  At that point, our conversation veered off into other areas. When midnight crawled in—two in the morning for me—we went to our separate bedrooms. The combination of exhaustion, emotions and several glasses of wine put me into a deep sleep. But I dreamed. About Ben and Mari. About my sister. And now about a baby whose face I couldn’t see.

  The next morning we had a quick breakfast and Sheridan took me to Pike Place Market. I instantly fell in love with the scents—well, except for the fish market—the sights, the shops and the energy that seemed to crackle in the air. Following our trip there, we did a little more sightseeing, and I knew if I ever tired of living in Chicago that I’d be able to move to Seattle and be quite content. Okay, mostly content. Ben didn’t make his home in the Emerald City. Otherwise, I’d already have been packing my bags.

  Still, I enjoyed the day. I enjoyed being with my sister. We had lunch out, went shopping and returned to her place with our arms filled with purchases. Most of mine were gifts I planned on leaving for Sheridan, but I also had a few for Alice, Elizabeth, Verda and Rose.