She continued staring at my shirtsleeve, her face unchanging. “Whatever,” she said vaguely. “This orange does suit you. I'll borrow it some time. I could soften it with a scarf.”
As her words washed over me, I caught a mental image of slapping Charlize across the cheek, and the two of us wrestling each other while another blonde, Chloe at age ten, stood by screaming. This memory switched to a scene of us at thirteen, all three of us pulling each other's hair and then scratching and biting, retaliating for snake bites. I didn't have snakes in my hair, but I could hurt my sisters. I tasted Charlize's blood in my mouth, heard her pleading for my forgiveness. I'd bitten her. And for good reason. The story and memory shifted forward, wrapped up, and I knew.
I was back in Chet's sunny backyard, at the Grownups' Brunch, looking right at Charlize.
“You stole Chessa's boyfriend,” I said coolly.
She feigned innocence. “Says who?” Her face was blank, but the snakes on her head were stirring, appearing in place of her tight ringlet curls.
I pointed to my temple and raised my eyebrows knowingly. “His name was Leo, and you made him kiss you, even though you knew Chessa liked him.”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn't make Leo do anything.”
The memory expanded. “Wait. I know this guy. It's the same Leo who teaches scuba diving now, isn't it? You kissed him, and Chessa bit you, but you totally had it coming. Then Chloe took Chessa's side, and you guys didn't speak for months.”
“That was years ago.” Charlize crossed her arms and tossed her writhing snake hair back over her shoulder. “And that was just kid stuff,” she said. “But good for you.” She clapped slowly. “Cute little magic trick.”
Chet growled, “Charlie, play nice.”
She shot him a wounded look, and the snakes on her head calmed into ringlet formation once more.
“Tell me more about scuba diving,” she said to me. “Is Leo still sexy?”
“Not at all,” I lied. “He's gross.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Does scuba diving really help you feel closer to my sister's spirit?”
“Not as much as being around Chet,” I said, partly because it was true and partly because I knew it would irritate her.
“Interesting,” she said cryptically. “Tell me more about your methodology, Zara. You witches are so fascinating with your archaic, demonic ways.”
I bit my tongue. The gorgon with the snake hair was calling me archaic and demonic? The nerve of her. I could understand why her sisters had been trying to slap some manners into her since the day they were born. Not that it had done any good.
I shot Chet a dirty look. He shot me back a surprisingly parental look. He had really honed the fatherly eyebrow lift.
Fair enough. He'd invited us to a Grownups' Brunch, so I could make an effort to behave like a grownup, even though Charlize's presence brought out residual sisterly rivalry.
Charlize adjusted the pale-blue shoulder strap of her breezy dress. She gave me a sweet, almost flirtatious look. “It's fine if you don't want to share your witchy secrets. We all have our stories to keep. How do you like scuba diving?”
I liked Leo. But I didn't dare let her know, or she'd go put her lips all over him again.
“Diving is fun,” I said lightly. “It took a while to get used to the sensation of breathing from a tank, but the view down there at the bottom of the sea is worth it.”
She seemed genuinely interested, so I went on, telling both of them about how cute Zoey had been at the first lesson, even though it wasn't for her in the end, and about how the group of students had all bonded with each other.
“Fighting is a way of bonding,” Charlize said.
“I remember,” I said. “I mean, I can feel Chessa's memories.” I closed my eyes to focus. “I can see you apologizing for kissing Leo. How you tried to make it up to your sister with countless small gestures, like making her tea when she got sick over the Christmas holidays. And by not going to that New Year's Eve party when he asked you out.”
“She knew about that?” Charlize stared at me with wide eyes.
“Why do you think she finally forgave you?”
“Oh,” she said, nodding. She reached out and grabbed my hand. “Zara, tell her that I'm sorry I wasn't a better sister.”
My fingers were tingling, but I didn't yank my hand away. In my heart, I knew Charlize wouldn't hurt me. She'd never hurt her sister, either. Not on purpose.
I started to tell her the communication didn't work that way but stopped myself. Tears were shining in Charlize's pale eyes.
“She knows you love her,” I said. “Both you and Chloe. She'd do anything for you two, and she knows you'd do the same.”
Charlize let go of my hand. “It's true,” she whispered.
I wanted to hug her, to show my sister how much I cared about her. She wasn't just a part of my family—she was a part of me.
But Charlize wasn't my sister. She belonged to Chessa. I looked across the brunch set out on the aquamarine table. I looked at Chet, ever watchful with those wild green eyes. All of this belonged to Chessa.
I reached for the pitcher and refilled my glass.
* * *
We ate pancakes and talked about food, the weather, and everything but the woman who lay lifeless on a hospital bed, twenty stories underground.
Chet got us a second pitcher of mimosa, and we had a playful debate over whether it was a pitcher of mimosa, singular, or mimosas, plural. We decided that it was mimosa while still in the pitcher then became mimosas when poured into the glasses. And the more mimosas we had, the more enjoyable our Grownups' Brunch became.
By the end of the second pitcher, when Charlize invited me to hang out with her “soon,” I agreed without hesitation.
“Who knows,” I said with a shrug. “It could help me get closer to your sister's spirit.” I grinned. “Even if it's just to strangle you for making out with poor, sweet Leo, who had no idea what he was getting into.”
Charlize tipped her head back and laughed. “You're almost as hilarious as me,” she said.
I pushed my chair back and stood. It's always good to leave on a high note. “Thank you, folks, you've been a swell audience,” I said.
“Don't go, Lady Traffic Cone,” Charlize said.
I straightened my orange T-shirt and pretended to be offended. I wasn't.
“We need to plan our girls' night,” she said.
“Uh...” I tried to remember what I'd unwittingly agreed to.
“You two can stay at Chessa's house tonight,” Chet said. “Zara, you did say you wanted to spend some time there to connect with Chessa's energy.”
I touched the bracelet on my wrist and shot him a wide-eyed look. Did he want me to get turned into stone? Was a marble statue of a fleeing librarian the final finishing touch he needed for his backyard?
“Great idea,” Charlize said. “I'll go take care of some other business this afternoon, then I'll swing by and pick you up at your house.” She pointed next door. “It's that red one with the moss on the roof, right?”
I put my hands on my hips and looked at my roof. Had it always been so mossy? I hadn't noticed before.
Charlize said, “I'll pick you up at eight.”
“It's a date,” I said with a forced smile.
Chapter 28
Zoey was horrified. “You're having a sleepover with a gorgon?”
We'd just gotten back home from Chet's brunch, and were hanging out in my bedroom. Zoey sat cross-legged on my bed with her laptop while I played around casting spells on my closet.
“Two gorgons,” I said. “Charlize is going to invite Chloe. It would be rude not to, since she only lives a few steps away from Chessa's cottage.”
Zoey looked down at her laptop and muttered, “My mother's having a sleepover with two gorgons. This is our life now.”
“Cheer up,” I said with enthusiasm. “Maybe they know some gorgons who are your age, and can make introductions.”
&nbs
p; “Gross.” My daughter stuck her tongue out at me. “Don't get me wrong. I think it's great that you're making new friends here, but does it have to be ladies with hissy-hissy-bitey-bitey snake hair? They have the ability to turn living things into statues. You can't blame me for being a little alarmed.”
“I'll keep my wits about me. Plus I have Chessa's memories, and even the worst bits are just kid stuff, sibling rivalry.” I chuckled as I got a flash of memory involving the triplets putting baby clothes on the family's pet dog. The dog was a Chihuahua. No, a beagle. Or was it a golden retriever? More memories flashed by like photographs. A sour taste came to my mouth. It was all of those breeds of dogs. The family had gone through a lot of pets.
“That must have been weird, growing up,” Zoey said.
“It was. I mean, yes, I imagine it was.”
“But nice to have sisters.” She stared at my closet, her eyes unfocused and her little rosebud mouth in a pout.
“Zoey, I tried to get you a brother or sister, but the company who made Barberrian wine coolers went out of business.”
She rolled her eyes. “Careful they don't do weird sleepover stuff to you after you fall asleep. Like soak your bra in water and stick it in the freezer.”
“It's not going to be a huge slumber party. Chloe has her own bedroom in the big house at the front. I'm sure she'll return to her own house and her baby.”
“All the better for Charlize to get you alone and petrify you with no witnesses.”
“Petrify!” I snapped my fingers. “Petrify: A verb, meaning to frighten someone so that they are unable to think or move, or to change organic matter into a stony concretion. That's the word I've been trying to think of all morning. Thanks, Zoey.”
She set her laptop aside and leaned forward to grab the stony wasp from my bedside table. “Poor little dude,” she said, stroking it with one finger. Then, in an abrupt change of mood, “Can I keep it?”
“You have been lobbying for a pet, so... sure.”
She cradled the concrete wasp lovingly. “I shall hug him, and kiss him, and call him Fuzzy.”
I was happy for her. She'd been looking to adopt a dog or a cat to expand our Riddle family, but her last few visits to the pet adoption center hadn't panned out. The cages had been empty, which was probably a good thing. According to the kind people who ran the pet shelter, the people of Wisteria took excellent care of their cats and dogs, so animals had to be shipped in from other cities.
I sat on the bed next to her. “I feel bad leaving you alone here tonight.” I clapped my hands together. “You should invite some friends over from school and have a slumber party of your own.”
She juggled the concrete wasp from one hand to the other. “Fuzzy will keep me company. Plus I can catch up on my reading.”
I glanced guiltily at the to-be-read pile on my own bedside table. “Tell me about it. Between the ghost drama and the scuba diving, my reading pile is getting seriously neglected. If I don't finish a few more books in the next week, I may need to turn in my cardigans, my corkscrew, and my librarian status.”
“You'll catch up, once you bring back Chet's fiancée. Then he'll be busy with her, and he won't be dragging you into DWM business.”
“That would be nice,” I lied.
“I'd sure like to talk to Chessa about my name being on that scroll. Allegedly.”
“No matter what happens, you'll always be my Chosen One.”
She groaned and gave her concrete wasp a look of wide-eyed annoyance.
I draped my arm around her shoulders. “Come with me tonight! We'll cancel the male strippers and make the night G-rated and family friendly. Of course, I'll have to forfeit my deposit for the Bunny Boys, and suffer through a lap-dance-free weekend, but being a good parent is about making personal sacrifices.”
“Nice,” she said sarcastically. “Is there really a male stripper group called the Bunny Boys, or did you make that up?”
I squeezed her around the shoulders. “You'll find out on your eighteenth birthday.”
She groaned.
I whispered ominously, “Two more years.”
Chapter 29
Charlize arrived at my house to pick me up a half hour late, with no explanation for her tardiness.
Such a Charlize move, I thought, courtesy of Chessa's emotional residue.
I wasn't surprised to see her vehicle, a bright-yellow Volkswagen Beetle. Nor was I surprised to find the vehicle interior crammed with loose clothes and half-eaten bags of candy. At sixteen, Charlize had been the one who filled the triplets' shared car with forgotten homework and empty bottles of Diet Coke.
I brushed loose jelly beans off the passenger seat so I could settle in.
“Now, this is a vehicle you can ride out a natural disaster in,” I said. “Forget tanks and Hummers. This little bug's got a three-day supply of Hot Tamales.”
Charlize gave me a sidelong look as she started the engine. “That sounds exactly like something Chessa would say.”
“She and I have been getting closer,” I said. “Sometimes her words come out of my mouth.”
“How does that work?”
“Beats me. I don't have a handbook. Do you have a handbook?”
She looked over her shoulder into the Beetle's tiny backseat. “I have a few books. Oops. I shouldn't have told you that. Most of them are overdue.”
“But do you have a DWM handbook? Sort of an operations manual?”
She gave me a guilty look and turned her attention to the road ahead. “That's classified,” she said crisply. “Chet warned me you might pump me for information.”
“Of course he did. What a guy.”
* * *
Chloe was already waiting for us inside Chessa's cottage. The house seemed smaller that Saturday evening, the way most places seem smaller the second time you visit. I tried not to take the claustrophobic feeling as a bad omen.
Chloe had Jordan Junior with her. It was well past his bedtime, but he'd been fussy and wouldn't go to sleep when his parents tried.
She handed the three-month-old baby boy to me. “He wanted to stay up and see Auntie Zara!”
“Is it true?” I cuddled the little cutie. “Did you know I was coming to visit?”
He blew bubbles at me. If Jordan Junior was psychic, he'd have to learn better communication skills if he wanted to impress anyone with his powers of prognostication. He did, however, give me a sweet look that melted my heart. Plus he smelled amazing.
“He likes his auntie,” Chloe said. “He knows you're family.”
“But I'm not really his aunt,” I said.
“You are,” Chloe said firmly. “Look at the way he's gazing up at you. Don't fight it, Zara. We are officially making you one of Jordan Junior's aunties.”
Charlize interjected, “That includes one equal share of diaper duty.”
“I would be honored,” I said, and I meant it. With no siblings of my own, and no spouse with siblings, this was my first—and possibly my only—opportunity to be an aunt. I rocked the baby and spoke to him softly. “Zara is a good aunt! Well, she tries to be a good aunt. Zara is the best aunt she can be.”
We played with the baby for a while, taking turns holding him and hearing Chloe's stories about the new things he'd done in the last week. His mother described it as “hatching out of his shell,” the way he'd been interacting with the world, enjoying music, and making social smiles.
After an hour, Jordan Senior came to check on us and take the baby.
“You could stay a while,” Chloe said to her dark-haired, muscular husband. “You're welcome to hang out here with us girls for a while.”
Jordan looked at the open bottles of wine on the coffee table. “Looks like you're doing just fine without me.” He took a closer look at our wineglasses and made a tsk-tsk sound. “Red wine? You're drinking red wine on Chessa's white sofa? She's going to murder you.”
“We're being careful,” Charlize said.
Chloe waved her husband away. “
Go back to the big house if you're going to be a tattletale. I spent nine months without a drop of wine, or even a sip of coffee, and I'm making up for lost time now.”
“That's right,” I said, getting into the rhythm with the others. “After this bottle, we're doing espresso shots. And then...”
I looked at the blondes.
In unison, we said to Jordan, “Tequila shots!”
He gave us one last tsk-tsk and left with the baby.
Once he was gone, I asked Chloe, “How's Jordan been sleeping lately? Has the sleepwalking issue gotten any better?”
The sisters glanced at each other and then stared at me, eyes wide.
“It's like Chessa's right here with us,” Chloe said.
“I can stop letting her speak through me if you want,” I said. “If it's getting too weird.”
Chloe clutched my arm, nearly sloshing my red wine on the white sofa. “Nothing's too weird for us,” she said.
Charlize had gone quiet. She was staring at my face. “Zara, maybe it's the wine, but you're actually starting to look like Chessa.”
“We need a mirror!” Chloe exclaimed as she suddenly leapt up from the sofa. She flung my arm and sent my wine sloshing. Without thinking, I telekinetically caught the globules of wine midair, before they could land on the furniture. Charlize and Chloe watched with open mouths and stunned expressions as I magically gathered the red wine from the air and then pooled it in my wine glass.
I raised my glass, “To magic.”
Charlize toasted my glass with hers while Chloe ran off in search of a mirror.
She returned with a piece of broken mirror from the top of Chessa's dresser. It was the perfect size and shape for reflecting our three faces together; Chet's bad luck was our good fortune.
We put our faces together, cheeks almost touching, me in the center, and examined ourselves in the mirror. Our bone structure was similar, and I resembled the triplets more when I tilted up my chin, shortening my face.
Charlize fussed with my hair. “Zara, if you change this wacky red color, and if you blot out some of those nasty freckles, you'd be a dead ringer for our sister.”
3-Book Series Bundle: Wisteria Witches, Wicked Wisteria, Wisteria Wonders - Cozy Witch Mysteries Page 66