Chapter 28
GRANT
It”s a gloomy early-August evening. It”s pouring rain, and the wind is so gusty, my windows are rattling. It perfectly fits my mood.
Work was shittier than shitty today. I lost my temper with a medical student and snapped at him, and I couldn”t quite get things right in surgery. Had to ask the attending doc to take over for me. Which is embarrassing as fuck.
I apologized to the med student, at least. Hopefully he doesn”t think I”m too much of an asshole. Even though these days I feel like I really am.
I flop down on my couch and scrub a hand over my face. My fingers itch to pull my phone from my pocket to text Sirona. Even better, call her. Hear her sweet voice. Or video call and see her beautiful face.
My chest aches. I miss her so fucking much. Enough that I”ve been spinning ideas in my head of how I could rearrange my life and move back to Owl Cove. And rebuild a life with her. But everything just seems so complicated. And I don”t even know if she wants to be with me long term.
I should”ve told her I love her.
My hand is sliding in my pocket—am I really thinking of calling her to tell her?—when there”s a knock at the door.
Again? Why can”t Leslie text first like a normal person?
I drag myself up and head for the front door. ”Why can”t you text like a normal person?” I yell.
But when I open the door, it”s not Leslie.
It”s Hazel Goode. Sirona”s grandmother is standing on my front stoop under a black umbrella. Wearing a black summer dress, with her long gray hair flowing around her shoulders, she looks every bit the old crone archetype. All she”s missing is a pointy hat.
I”m not sure if I”m supposed to call her Nana, Hazel, or Mrs. Goode. So I simply say, ”Hello. I wasn”t expecting to see you.”
She steps inside without waiting for an invitation, turning to shake her umbrella out the door, then closing it and setting it against the entry wall. ”I didn”t text because I don”t have your number.”
I resist the urge to mumble a sarcastic come in. ”Would you like something to drink? I don”t think I have tea, but I”ve got water and Diet Coke.”
”No, thank you. I can”t stay long.”
”Is something wrong with Sirona?” Why would she drive all the way here and then not stay long? ”Or are you at some kind of... convention in Chicago and decided to stop by while you”re here?”
I follow her into my living room, where she sits down in my armchair. ”Yes and no to your first question. No to your second.”
I resume my seat on the couch but remain sitting upright, not sinking into the cushions. I”m instantly on alert. ”What”s wrong with Sirona?” I couldn”t handle it if something terrible happened to her.
”The same thing I suspect is wrong with you,” Hazel says. ”You look terrible, by the way.”
I gape at her. How am I supposed to respond to that? I mean, I know it”s not untrue. I”ve been doing a half-assed job of grooming lately. I”m overdue for a haircut and a beard trim.
”And what”s wrong with me?” I ask. This is Hazel. She obviously knows. She seems to know every damn thing.
”Heartbreak and job dissatisfaction. Same as Sirona.”
My chest feels like someone stacked bricks on it at the idea of Sirona heartbroken. Even worse, I did it to her.
But how was I supposed to not?
”Do you like your job, Grant? Because the energy you give off when we”ve spent time together is that you don”t. That it”s an obligation, not an enjoyment. And that energy is mighty powerful today.” She cocks her head to the side, studying me. ”And, of course, the heartbreak is just pulsing off you in waves.”
I open my mouth, still gaping. I don”t know what to say. It”s disconcerting to have someone read me so easily, even though she barely knows me.
”I know you, Grant Humphries. I know you much better than you think.”
How did she do that? Can she read minds?
”Even more, I knew your father.”
My blood freezes in my veins. ”What does my father have to do with anything?” I”m suddenly chilled.
”You don”t have to be a surgeon just because your father wanted you to. He”s not here for you to make proud anymore. And even becoming the best plastic surgeon in the world isn”t going to quiet his memory if you don”t deal with it head on.”
”What, you”re saying go to therapy?”
”If you think that would help. However you need to deal with your father”s memory, you need to start doing it. Instead of letting him haunt you when he”s not even here.”
”How do you know? I know spirits hang around after they die. That”s Morgan”s whole job. So maybe my dad is here right now, hanging around, waiting for me to succeed.” Most days, it feels like he is. Except he’s waiting for me to fail.
She makes a face like I”m too ridiculous to live. ”Your father”s ghost isn”t in this room, but I can bring him here if you”d like. So he can tell you no amount of surgery is going to make him accept teenage you. Which is what you”re really looking for.”
Well, that”s a punch to the gut. A full-body shudder runs through me. ”You don”t pull punches, do you?”
She shrugs. ”I”m almost eighty years old. I haven”t got time to pull punches anymore.”
”You absolutely do not need to bring my dad into this.” I shudder again, smaller this time. I loved my dad, because he was my dad. But I didn”t like him much. I don”t miss him as much as a son should probably miss his father.
”Your dad is already a huge part of this, whether we conjure his spirit or not,” she says.
Her words resonate a little too closely with things I”ve already been thinking. With all the doubts that have been playing in my head.
”Do you know that your grandmother worked very closely with me when your mother was a child?”
I sit back, taking in this information. ”I had no idea.” My mom”s mom died shortly before I was born, so I don”t know much about her.
”She was my executive assistant for many years. We were very close.” Hazel makes a face like she sucked a lemon. ”She did not like your father. Didn”t want your mother to marry him.”
I just nod because I don”t know what else to say. I do know my mom turned into a different person after my dad died. When I was a kid, she was quiet and almost meek. Deferred to my dad about everything.
”Your father was a bully. And it”s time you stop letting him bully you from beyond the grave.”
I pull in a deep breath, filling my chest. I”m slightly more relaxed when I let it out. Slightly. ”So you think I should quit my residency, move back to Owl Cove, and do what, exactly? I can”t do much with a medical degree and no completed residency.”
”What I think you should do is some good, hard thinking about what matters to you. About what you really want out of your life. And if the answer you come up with is to be a hotshot plastic surgeon, then go for it.” She narrows her eyes at me. ”If the answer is you would rather do any other career, whether or not you need more training for it, do that.”
I open my mouth to respond but have no idea what to say, so I shut it again.
”And if the answer is that you are as in love with Sirona as I know you are, then you figure out how to do whatever it is you want to do while living in Owl Cove.”
”But I?—”
She holds up her hand to stop my words. ”I have said what I came here to say.” She rises from the chair. ”Now it”s up to you to do that hard thinking.”
I rise too, because I guess I need to walk her to the door.
She pats my chest as she passes me. ”You”re a smart boy, Grant. You”ll make the right choice.”
I want to ask what that right choice is, but I know she won”t tell me. ”I hope so.”
Picking up her umbrella, she pauses. ”Sirona misses you too, you know. And she”s making some changes in her life. You should call her.”
”We agreed not to keep in touch,” I say. It feels like a pathetic excuse not to contact the woman I love with every piece of my soul.
She rolls her eyes, which is almost comical on such an old woman. ”Well that”s just ridiculous.”
She”s not wrong. Maybe I will call Sirona tonight. I could talk through all this with her. ”Does she know you”re here?”
Hazel chuckles. ”No.”
”Then how did you find my townhouse?” I ask.
She levels me with a gaze. ”I”m one of the most powerful witches in the world. You think I can”t find an address?”
I know she”s powerful, but I hadn”t realized she”s that powerful. And if she can find my address, how come she couldn’t find my phone number?
She opens the door and mist immediately fills my entryway. It”s still pouring. ”Make the right decision,” she says. And with that, she pulls the door shut behind her and is gone.
Leaving me with more questions than answers.
SIRONA
It”s entirely too early for me to be this stressed out. Praise Honey, she brought over her strongest brew this morning before I left, because she knows I”m not a morning person. I typically start my day seeing patients at nine. And it”s amazing what that extra hour of sleep does for a person.
Mom”s assistant waves me in, and I force my feet to carry me. I did a quick glamour before I left my office, making me appear more confident and collected than I feel inside.
I”ve never really gone against anyone”s wishes before. I”m the good girl, the dutiful oldest daughter. I do what I”m told and I take care of everyone else before I take care of myself. I”m the epitome of putting everyone else”s masks on first before I put my own on.
Time to put my own oxygen mask on.
Mom is behind her desk, her auburn hair perfectly coiffed, makeup impeccable. Outside of work she”s much more casual, but at Goode Witches, she looks and acts every bit the corporate CEO.
I need to remember that. Today she is my boss, my CEO. Not my mother.
”What do you need, Sirona?” she asks, not turning away from her computer. She”s reading emails, deleting them, filing them. Not really paying attention to me.
”I need to talk to you about something fairly serious,” I say. My stomach is in knots and it”s all I can do to keep from twisting my hands together or picking at my cuticles. Only the coffee in one hand and the resignation letter in the other stop me.
I should”ve done a spell to make me feel calm and confident, not just look it.
She holds up her hand to indicate I should wait. Clicks through a dozen more emails. Then, with a small flourish, she turns toward me, grinning.
”Let”s talk. How have you been doing? I know I”ve been very busy with work and Gary and such, but I do want to check in with you, too.” Her face is a mask of sympathy. ”Are you recovering from Grant leaving?”
Not really. ”I”m fine, Mom,” I lie. ”But that”s not what I want to talk about.” My heart starts pounding. I can hear it in my ears.
Her smile fades. ”OK, what is it then?”
Now or never.
I slide the letter across the desk to her. ”I”m resigning. This is my two-week notice and resignation letter.”
For a long, uncomfortable moment, she just stares at me. Her gaze drops to the letter, then back up to meet mine.
”Resigning.”
”Yes.”
”From Goode Witches.”
”Yes.”
”Where you”ve trained your entire life to work.”
I hold in a sigh. ”And you know I appreciate all the training you and Nana have given me. I love being a healing witch. I just can”t do it here anymore.” Panic flutters at the base of my neck. What if she doesn”t accept my resignation?
Except she has to. I don”t have a contract. She can uninvite me to Sunday dinner, but she can”t stop me from leaving Goode Witches.
”What is it you plan to do with yourself, then, Sirona?” Her voice is almost bitter as she says my name.
”There are still a lot of details to work out, but I plan to open a practice to work with local residents when they”re sick.” Talking more with Honey last night, she revealed that she often hears locals talking about how Goode caters to outsiders, but doesn”t offer much to people who live in Owl Cove.
But I”m definitely not telling my mom that.
”More and more, I feel like I”m not able to help. It seems like there are more patients with conditions I can”t do more than put a bandage on. And I want to actually use my healing skills. I want to heal people.” There”s an edge of desperation in my voice. I may not need her permission to leave, but I want her blessing.
Because she”s not just the CEO. She”s also my mother. And in many ways, my mentor.
Right now, though, her face is hard. ”Who is going to take over Goode when your aunts and I retire, then? Your cousins already jumped ship. It”ll take more than just Morgan and Bronwen to run this place when we”re gone.”
I”ve known for a long time that she expects us to take over, but that”s never what I”ve wanted. ”I don”t know, Mom. Maybe Sabrina will be old enough by then and want to. Or maybe Nana”s sister”s family.”
She makes a face at that suggestion. I”ve never understood all the dynamics at play, but she isn”t a fan of her cousins. And they all moved away from Owl Cove.
I don”t dare mention Mom”s long-lost sister Diana, who left town before Bronwen was born. That won”t go over well at all.
”But I was never going to become CEO. I don”t want to. And for the first time in my life, I”m going after what I do want. I need to do this for me.” I sigh. I hate this conversation. This is as bad as saying goodbye to Grant.
Well, maybe not that bad.
”I know that, as CEO, this messes things up. But there are so many other good healers who work for Goode. You”ll barely notice I”m gone. But, Mom. As my mother, I really need you to support me in this. I need you to be happy for me.” I didn”t realize how much I needed that until the words come out of my mouth.
Her jaw softens just the slightest bit. ”A mother only wants her children to be happy. Of course.”
I feel like there”s a ”but” coming.
”But this puts me in an impossible position. Because I am not just your mother. I”m also your boss.”
My stomach plummets to the floor. ”I guess I was hoping you could just be my mom for a little bit.” I sound small, like I”m still a child. So much for confidence.
She sits back in her chair, crosses her arms, and studies me. I can”t meet her eyes.
”Oh, Sirona. Of course I support you doing this.” She sighs. ”I don”t like you leaving, but I do want you to be happy. And if this is what you need...”
What I need is this and Grant. But one out of two is better than nothing.
The idea of embarking on this next adventure without him makes me sick to my stomach. Even though I know he”s out of my life, he would be so proud of me for taking this leap. I know he would. Just like I”m proud of how much he”s accomplished as a surgeon, even if it is the thing keeping us apart.
I feel tears clogging the back of my throat, so I shove away thoughts of Grant. I”ve cried a lot in the past month, but I”m not going to in my mom”s office.
”Maybe I did push you girls too hard to work for Goode. But I knew my sisters wouldn”t, and we just want this to stay a family business.” She sighs deeply.
”I know, Mom. And I”m sorry I can”t be the one to take over. But we have time to figure it out. It”s not like you”re going anywhere.” One of my powers is I can usually sense disease in people. Not necessarily specific enough to say what”s wrong, just that something is off with their health and they should be assessed. And there”s nothing at all off about Mom”s health.
She smiles, and it”s a little sad. ”That”s good to hear.”
We sit in silence for a few moments. It”s not awkward, but it”s not exactly comfortable either.
Finally she says, ”It”s almost eight, and I have a meeting.”
I nod. ”Sure, no problem.” Thank deities.
I get up and step toward the door.
”No matter what, Sirona, I love you very much.” Her smile is less sad now. ”And that”s speaking as your very proud mother. Not your CEO.”
Warmth spreads through me at her words. ”Thank you, Mom. I love you too.”
I slip out of her office and back to my own. I spend a moment looking around this room I”ve tried to make my own over the years. No matter how many personal touches I”ve put on it, it never quite felt right. I finally understand why.
I reach for my phone and on autopilot, I open my text thread with Grant. It feels so natural to message him, to tell him about this monumental step I”ve taken. Those tears are back, clogging my throat.
Trying not to cry, I swipe out of the thread and tap into my messages with Honey instead.
Me: I did it. Here goes nothing!