by Laura Sibson
Patience is not an attribute that seems to have been passed on to me. While the water heats, she mashes something in a bowl and pulls out a fresh mug, which she pours some honey into, adding the roots and a sachet of herbs, then covers it with the now-boiling water. She brings the steaming cup to me. “Until then, rest. And this will help. Twice a day.”
I peer into the mug and breathe in the vapor. There’s a hint of peppermint and the sharpness of ginger and cayenne. I sip at the scalding tea, feeling the peppery burn followed by the soothing calm of honey. Thoughts of my mother in the cemetery have made her absence yawn wide. I wish for her soft touch on my hair, for the way that she’d squeeze my shoulder and kiss me good night. I miss the song that she’d sing sometimes when I was scared.
“GG, do you remember the song Mom used to sing to help me sleep?” I ask.
“Of course I do!” GG’s face opens up like the sun on the river in the morning. “Darkness . . .” She purses her lips and frowns. “Maybe I don’t.”
I sing the song and when I’m finished, GG has tears in her eyes. She clears her throat. “Remember, I said to rest,” she says, and she heads to her room.
I wish a simple song could solve my problems. I still have three items to find for this search. The girls I thought were my friends only see the worst in me now. These black veins are snaking up my arm and not even my magical grandmother seems able to cure them. One thing I am sure about—I have no time to rest.
* * *
* * *
When I get my energy back, Tess and I agree to meet for a run. I need the run to clear my head, but even more important, I don’t want to lose Tess as a friend.
“How do you feel about mile repeats?” I ask.
“What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger?” Tess says. “Is that the answer you were looking for?”
“That’s the one!” While we warm up with an easy two-miler, Tess asks about GG.
“Is she going to help, now that she knows what’s going on?”
“Seems like it. She was a little cryptic though.”
We start our repeats. With each mile, I focus on running off the fear about the black veins on my arm, the betrayal of Rhia’s accusation, and the sadness about the tree. When we are finished with the repeats, I slow down my pace as we return to town.
“You were on fire!” Tess says when she catches up to me.
I shoot a look at her. She holds up her hands. “Too soon?”
“A little,” I say, but I give her a small smile.
We turn onto Main Street where people are starting to crowd the sidewalks, oblivious to the corrupted magic that burned the beech, that has infected me.
“Oh my gods, I’ve never been so happy to see the diner,” Tess exclaims as we pass the coffee shop and fish market until finally we see the awning of the diner. “Because that means we are done!”
We stop in front of the plate glass window, panting to catch our breath.
“Is Jorge working?” I ask. Things so far seem pretty normal between us, which is a relief.
“He’s off today. Speaking of which, you’re working solo tonight. Jorge and I are going out.”
“Have fun.” I wiggle my eyebrows up and down.
“Oh, stop,” she says, giggling. She pushes her sweaty hair from her forehead. “Have you talked to Rhia yet?”
“Nope.” I adjust my cap so it sits low over my eyes.
Tess flips my cap back up so that we can make eye contact. “Talk to her.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I can’t get past what she accused me of. And she hasn’t reached out to me, so I guess she still thinks I’m guilty.”
“Could you try? For me?”
Tess makes it sound easy. Like trying is no big deal. But it feels like a big deal to me. I never expected to be interested in anyone romantically. And now the one person I’d ever felt attraction for had accused me of something terrible. And yet, I can’t get Rhia out of my head.
After a moment, I sigh. “For you,” I say. “I’ll try for you.”
* * *
* * *
Before my shift at the ice cream shop, I stop by Cosmic Flow. I remind myself that I’m doing this for Tess, but if I’m honest, I want to see Rhia again.
She looks up when the door jingles. “Welcome to Cosmic—oh, it’s you.” She’s wearing a beanie over her hair today. It’s mashed low over her eyebrows. Her face gives away nothing and she looks back at whatever she was doing.
“Do you think we should talk?” I ask.
She stares at the computer screen like it’s fascinating. “I’m sort of working.”
“I didn’t mean now. I’ve got to get to work, too.” I hold my hands up. “But whatever. I can at least tell Tess I tried.”
I start to turn to leave and then I pause. “Remember the day that we talked under the beech, the day that I showed you how to harvest bark? Do you truly believe that I could hurt that tree, after what you know about me?” Rhia’s shoulders drop, but she doesn’t say anything. After a moment, I pull open the door.
Rhia calls after me. “The coffee shop.”
“What?” I turn around to face her.
“We can meet at the coffee shop. What time do you get off?”
“Shop closes at nine and then I have to clean.”
“I’ll meet you there at nine thirty.”
“Nine thirty at the coffee shop.” I nod. “See you then.” I’m not sure I can get all my cleaning done by then, but I’ll make it work.
* * *
* * *
At the stroke of nine, I shut the windows, flip the sign to closed, and clean as fast as I can. It kills me to leave the shop in less-than-pristine condition, but no way am I going to be late to meet Rhia. I rush over to the coffee shop, but when I look through the window, Rhia isn’t one of the people clustered around small tables, talking over lattes and teas. I look at my watch. 9:26. Maybe she never planned to be here at all. Maybe she was messing with me. I turn away from the door, the cold wash of rejection flowing over me.
“Edie.” Her voice comes to me through the dark.
“Rhia?”
“Yeah.”
Conflicting feelings rush through me. A happy quiver to be near Rhia again. Nervousness about what I said that night. And confusion about why she’s being so cloak-and-dagger.
“I thought maybe you weren’t going to show,” I say.
She moves into the light, the lamp over the door casting half her face in shadow. “I wasn’t sure I was.”
“Okay.” I wait for her to say more, but she doesn’t. “Do you want to go in?”
“I need to tell you something.” Her words fly out in a rush.
The sight of Rhia stabs me like the Ten of Swords card in her tarot deck. I wonder what she’ll tell me. A couple weeks ago, I might have hoped that she would confess feelings for me. But based on the last week, I know that I shouldn’t expect anything as good as that. I brace myself for whatever she’s going to share.
“I’m listening,” I say.
“You can’t get mad.”
Now I know for sure it’s nothing good. “How can I promise that with all that’s happened? You know what? Never mind, Rhia. You can tell Tess I’m done.” I step away.
She jolts forward to stop me. “I have your mom’s journal.”
Whatever I thought Rhia was going to say, that was not it. I turn back. “You what?”
“I have the journal. It didn’t burn in the fire.”
“Were you going to keep my dead mother’s journal because you thought I burned the beech?” My fingers being to tingle. I focus on my breath to try to calm myself. Rhia eyes me like I’m dangerous, which I guess I am.
She speaks fast, like she needs to let the words out. “I was so confused. At first, I thought if I had the journal, then it would some
how keep you safe. Like you would stop your search. Then, after we took the first two items and told you that we were out, you’d said that you were going to do something you’d regret. When I got to the beech and it was burning, your words kept repeating in my head.” She pauses and then says, quietly, “That tree was our sanctuary, our safe place.”
“I know,” I say. Then I pause. “Wait, when did you take the journal?” I’m trying to put together a timeline in my mind and it doesn’t add up.
Rhia presses her lips together. “I grabbed it when we were leaving that afternoon that we got the photo. Remember? We went to the beech. You fell asleep in the hammock. We left in a hurry because Tess was late for work. I grabbed it from the hammock when I realized you’d left it behind.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me then?”
“I wanted—” She puts her hands to her face. “This is so hard and sort of embarrassing.”
I look around to make sure no one is in earshot before I speak.
“Rhia, you’ve accused me of using my power to do a terrible thing. And now you’re talking about something embarrassing? I’m lost,” I say. But I’m also frustrated.
“Okay, fine.” She drops her hands from her face. “I knew the journal had spells in it.”
The pieces slide together. “And you wanted to try them. Did you?”
She nods and manages to look miserable. She pushes her beanie up high to her hairline.
Something is different and it takes me a moment to realize what’s missing. “What happened to your eyebrows?”
“I tried a spell?”
Despite myself, I start laughing.
“It’s not funny!”
“It sort of is.”
Rhia breaks into a smile. Then we are both cackling and we can’t stop. When we finally catch our breath, I step toward her.
“Do you still believe that I could have burned the beech?”
Rhia shakes her head. “I know you didn’t. When I saw you practically sacrifice yourself to try to save it, I knew it hadn’t been you.”
“It hurt that you thought that, even for a minute.”
“I get that. But Edie, you were so angry when we took those items. We don’t know each other that well, you know?”
“I guess.” I’ve gotten so close with Rhia and Tess over these last weeks that I feel like I’ve known them forever. But I’ve really only known them for the summer. For all Rhia knew, I’d gone over the edge.
“And that night—it had been really hard with my grandma. Something called sundowning. My mom said she couldn’t handle it. We were all crying and now my parents want to put her in a nursing home. I went to the tree to get away. When I saw it burning, I wanted to blame someone. Anyone. I’m sorry.”
I’m caught short by her honesty and embarrassed that I haven’t been sensitive to what’s going on in Rhia’s life.
“Shit, I have been so self-centered,” I say. “I’m sorry about everything going on with your grandmother. That sounds really hard. And anyway, you were right about those items messing with me.” I sigh. “I shouldn’t have tried to involve you and Tess in the first place—it’s my problem and I’ll deal with it.”
“No way,” Rhia says vehemently.
“No way what?” I’m so confused.
“The fire at the beech is connected to the search we’re doing. I will not give up until we get rid of this messed-up magic motherfucker.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Absolutely. Are you?” she asks.
“I don’t have a choice.”
Rhia steps closer. “So you want to kiss me, huh?”
I start to stammer out something in my massively awkward way.
“How do you know I don’t want that, too?”
She holds the journal out to me. I grab it and then her hands are in mine and we both go still. Rhia’s looking into my eyes and I’m looking into hers. She licks her lips, drawing my eyes to them. My breath quickens. She takes a small step closer to me so that I feel the toe of her flip-flop against my sneaker. If I stepped any closer, our thighs would touch. I lean toward her. She parts her lips. But instead of the kiss I’m anticipating, she speaks.
“But I sort of need something from you.”
“Okay.” I breathe the word out.
Just then, the door to the coffee shop opens, letting an air-conditioned breeze out into the humid night. Two ladies emerge from the shop. Rhia steps away from me and mashes the beanie low on her head.
“Rhia,” a lady says. “Hello, hello, hello! How are you?”
“Hi, Ms. Alvarez. Good, thanks.”
“Edie, I didn’t realize that was you. Tell your grandmother hello for me, will you?”
“Sure,” I say. I’m glad that Ms. Alvarez can’t tell how fast my heart is beating from being so close to kissing Rhia. Once she’s made sure they’ve walked off, Rhia turns back to me.
“So, could you help a girl out?” Rhia says.
I look at her blankly until she points to the place on her head where the hat hides her absent eyebrows. And I almost howl with laughter. “I’ll try.”
“Good enough for me. I tried the reversal spell we made up, but it’s not working.”
On the walk home, I clutch the journal to my chest, relieved to have it back. I try to make sense of my roller-coaster feelings about Rhia, feeling betrayed one minute and wanting to kiss her the next. I wish again that I had Mom with me to talk through my first crush.
Chapter Twenty-Six
MAURA
July 12, 2003
I’ve moved onto the boat, which is one part freeing, two parts lonely. Dad’s ashes are gone. I know Mama took them, but of course she wouldn’t admit it because she’s not talking. That was it. If Mama won’t speak and won’t give me back Dad’s items, I won’t live with her.
I walked by the cabin on my way into town. I tried not to look in the windows to catch a glimpse of her, but I couldn’t help it. She wasn’t there, though. Then, when I walked by Dad’s workshop, I heard a peculiar noise. I peered through the window and saw her leaning over the boxes of items she’d placed there when we’d first arrived. I hadn’t seen her set foot near Dad’s workshop since then, just as she hadn’t set foot on the dock. I stepped away before she could see me.
I found Jamie at the hardware store. He was shy at first, asking what I needed. I told him that I didn’t need any supplies. I wanted to apologize for how I’d acted before. I told him about how I have bad days and unfortunately, he’d stopped by on a bad day. He nodded his understanding. I told him that I’d love to see him, but that I understood if he wasn’t up for it. Looking at him there, all I wanted was to be wrapped in his arms and feel his lips on my skin.
Jamie looked so serious when he said that he wanted me to talk to him, to tell him what’s going on. We took a walk and I shared with him how sad I feel about my Dad and how Mom’s silence makes it even worse. But being held feels good. He told me how he’d never felt for anyone the way that he feels about me. But he’s so conflicted because he’s leaving soon for the Peace Corps and we’re getting serious so fast.
I told him that spending time with him was the best thing for me—however we spent it. When we finally returned to the hardware store, I felt so much better. He hugged me tight and told me he’d be over later.
Early in the evening when I pulled myself from the water after my afternoon swim, he was on the dock. My heart started beating a little faster. Still dripping with river water, I led him into the interior of the boat, locking the latch behind me. He followed me to the narrow bed where I’d been sleeping. I tugged his T-shirt off. He untied my bathing suit top and let it drop. I unzipped his jeans. He hooked his thumbs into my bathing suit bottoms and slowly pulled them over my hips and down my legs until I stepped out of them. We kissed and stumbled and sort of fell on my bed. We bot
h started laughing. I asked if Jamie was sure and he said he was, and he asked me, and I said I was.
We were gentle with each other, but so awkward. It wasn’t my first time, but I wouldn’t call myself experienced. Jamie was so worried that he wasn’t doing it right, but I told him it was perfect. And after, we stayed tangled together in that narrow bed all night long. After Jamie left this morning, I lay in bed a while longer, feeling so happy. Jamie had shown me that I could talk to him. I’ve decided to tell him about the magic. We love each other and I can’t hide this part of me from someone so important.
Later, when I knew Mama had gone to the perpetual woods and would be gone for a while, I went to the cabin and opened her recipe box. I closed my eyes and willed the recipe I needed to present itself. The cards flipped themselves forward and back but did not settle. I tried two more times and when still no solution presented itself, I resorted to my own knowledge. I grabbed yarrow, peppermint, and ginger, and I set about creating something that I hoped would work.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
EDIE
It’s Saturday night, and to celebrate the successful return of Rhia’s eyebrows, she, Tess, and I are inhaling a pizza, chicken wings, and hush puppies in the back room of Cosmic Flow. I’m happy for the distraction. After reading the most recent entry in Mom’s journal, any possible doubts have been removed. Jamie must be my father. It seems that it’s taken losing my mother to finally learn about my father. At the same time, I still do not know his full identity. This is all too big; I’m still not ready to talk about it. Instead, I’m focusing on repairing my friendship with Tess and Rhia. I eat a drumstick, and sneeze.
“God bless you,” Tess says.
“Goddess blessings upon you,” Rhia says. “I’ve never met anyone who sneezes when they eat chicken wings.”
“It makes me special and unique. And—okay, maybe a little weird.”
“Lucky for you, we are all about weird.” Rhia’s smile causes a flutter inside me. We had that almost moment in front of the coffee shop. But at the same time, I know I’m holding part of me back. I don’t feel the same ease between all of us as I did before the beech burned, before they lied to me to get those objects. Maybe we all need to work on some trust. I bite into a slice of pizza.