Chapter 2
Petula
My sister Joelle and I step out of the church into the icy winter air.
Aunt Betsy's friends and former colleagues shake our hands and express their condolences.
We stay for the church's reception for just half an hour before leaving for the lawyer's office.
Given that I'm only here another day, he agreed to meet with us after the funeral to go over Aunt Betsy's will.
Once in his office, he asks, "So you're returning to Vegas tomorrow?"
"Yes," I say, scrunching up my nose.
"Not a fan of Las Vegas?" he quips with a grin.
"I'm definitely getting over it, that's for sure."
Joelle gives me a side-eye, but the lawyer continues.
"Alright. So your Aunt Betsy left you both each a grimoire that she's been working on the last couple of years."
"Seriously? I had no idea," Joelle says, grabbing my hand and squeezing it.
I look over at her as she dabs tears away from the corners of her eyes.
"But there's more. Joelle, you're going to get her rental property here in town, and Petula, your aunt left you her rental cabin on Ravenhart Mountain in California."
He runs through the logistics and has us sign a couple of papers. Once everything is done, my sister and I step back out into the freezing December air, clutching our new grimoires. I take a deep breath and blow it out, watching the steam curl from my mouth.
Sighing, I say, "Maybe I'll run away from Buddy and Vegas and go live up in the mountains."
Joelle loops her arm through mine as we make our way to her car. Once seated inside, she turns it on, blasting the heat, then looks at me with concern on her face.
"You know, that's like the fifth runaway joke you've made during this trip. Are you unhappy with Buddy in Vegas?"
Feeling my cheeks burn, I glance over at her but don't answer.
"I'm serious, Petula. Are you thinking about ending the engagement?"
"I don't know. I would feel awful if I did that."
"Well, you'd also feel awful if you married the wrong man," Joelle says, backing up.
"I'm not sure what I'll do, but it's getting harder and harder for me to picture a life with Buddy. Never mind a life in Vegas. I'm so tired of living there," I say, staring out at the Town of Sea Glass passing by in a blur.
"Well, Ravenhart Mountain is situated right in the middle of Branwen Beach and Corvid Valley, which are just like Sea Glass," she says.
My eyes drift from the window to my sister.
"What do you mean? Like, a paranormal safe-haven type place?"
"Exactly. So I'm sure Ravenhart Mountain has the same vibes."
A small smile dances on my lips.
"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
Joelle shrugs.
"Well, you can work from anywhere with your job. So if you are really that unhappy, you now have a mountain cabin you could go make a home."
I sip my morning coffee, staring out at the chilly Vegas landscape and trying to find my mojo to create a fantasy cover for my latest client. Since returning from Sea Glass, I've been in a slump, and it's affecting my work.
A loud knock at my front door interrupts my navel-gazing. I'm not expecting a package and never get random visitors during the day.
I open the door to find my fiancé Buddy standing there holding a dress bag in his hand.
"Hey, babe," he says, pulling me in for a quick kiss.
"What's going on?"
"Get dressed. We're getting married today," he says.
I blurt out, "We are what?"
"You talked in your sleep the other night about selling your new cabin, and I want to be involved with all of that. So let's make it legal," he says, grabbing my coat off the hook and handing it to me.
"I haven't decided that I'm selling it."
"Of course you are," he says dismissively, handing me a pair of boots. Then he grabs them back from me.
"Actually, get in the dress now. I think that makes more sense than changing at the chapel."
"What chapel?" I say as he leads me to the bathroom, shoving the dress bag into my hands.
Twenty minutes later, I am squished inside my compact car covered in white tulle as he instructs me where to go along the Las Vegas Freeway.
"Buddy, what about my sister?" I say as he tells me to get off at an exit.
"She'll understand," he says with a dismissive wave as I pull into the parking lot of a small white chapel covered in neon signs.
Buddy hops out as soon as I put the car into park. My stomach squirms with anxiety looking at the tacky church, and I remain behind the wheel, unable to move. After a couple of seconds, Buddy comes to the driver's side impatiently.
"Come on. Let's go. I was lucky to get this appointment," he shouts through the glass.
Realization washes over me. I roll down the window and slip the diamond ring off my finger. He gives me a confused look as I place it into his open palm.
"This is over, Buddy. I'm not marrying you."
My ex-fiancé's jaw drops as I put the car into reverse and peel out of my spot. Waiting at the light to turn onto the freeway, I plug Ravenhart Mountain into my GPS and head west, feeling freer than I have in a long time.
The desert landscape rushes by as I leave Vegas in my rearview mirror. My heart pounds with a mix of terror and exhilaration. I just ended my engagement. I just drove away from a wedding chapel in a dress I never asked to wear.
But as the miles stretch out between me and Buddy, between me and the life I almost settled for, my breathing steadies.
The GPS estimates seven hours to Ravenhart Mountain.
Seven hours to figure out what the hell I'm going to do next.
Seven hours until I arrive at a cabin I've never seen in a town I know nothing about.