20. SpiderwebCobweb
Spiderweb or Cobweb
“ I can not believe it’s almost your birthday, Bee!” Simone squealed.
“I know! Gods, it’s in a couple of weeks, which is insane . I don’t even have a clue what we are going to do,” I said, batting my eyelashes.
“Ha-ha. Nice try there, Birthday Queen. You know our lips are sealed, just like they are every year when we plan something for you. Honestly, it’s crazy that you beg to be surprised and have zero patience to wait for it.” Maisie shook her head.
“I got to keep you on your toes.” I winked, making Maisie playfully roll her eyes.
We were sitting inside our favorite spot for our usual standing Sunday Brunch Date. The girls and I had been coming to the Giggle Water since before we could legally drink. It was a woman-owned and operated speakeasy-style restaurant and bar on the top floor of one of the tallest buildings in Blackbell. It was hidden away in the Business District behind a secret door in the wall that you could easily miss. Inside, the decor could only be described if Great Gatsby was gay as hell, a very successful businessman, and did drag every weekend. It was the perfect place for us, tucked away from the more touristy brunch places in Little Salem and the Shopping District that were always packed and had month-long waitlists. Giggle Water was still busy, but you never had to wait longer than fifteen minutes for a table. It helped that Maisie had a situationship with the General Manager, so we always got our favorite table at the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
“Did you ask off already?” Simone asked, sipping her mimosa.
“Of course! I requested Thursday off to pack and Monday and Tuesday to have a little recovery day or two after… whatever y’all have up your sleeves.”
“Oh, don’t pout,” Maisie teased. “You are going to have a blast this year. We have layers to this birthday surprise extravaganza to the gods.”
“And I can’t get a hint into any of them? Not even a tiny little one?”
Maisie shook her head, rolling her eyes and smiling again. “No, ma’am. You know better than that.”
Our server soon arrived and dropped off our drinks. We had been coming to Giggle Water every Sunday for so long that it was practically a training requirement to know our drink and food orders by heart and when we liked to receive everything. We each tipped at least thirty percent for the effort and their quality service.
Maisie sipped from her Bloody Maria, Simone from her mimosa, and I from my espresso martini. After we sat our drinks down, Simone put her hands together and declared. “Okay, Brunch Business! Let’s get started!”
With school, work, and life, most of the time my girls and I rarely saw each other throughout the week. The past couple of weeks have been a significant exception, but I still hadn’t seen or spoken to the girls much since Monday when we went to investigate the grimoire. Sure, we texted, sending each other videos and memes we had found across the several social media platforms we were a part of, and, of course, we had to have our weekly virtual Watch Party of the latest episode of Vanderpump Rules . But all of that had been light, dancing around the heavy shit to avoid bringing down the mood.
“Oh! Oh! Can I go first today? I don’t have much to dish about, really.” Simone bounced in her seat.
“Go for it,” I said.
“Be our guest,” Maisie said.
“Okay, so I’m officially on track to graduate this spring with my masters! I got the final sign-off from my professor on Friday!”
“Oh, my gods! Congratulations, Simone! That’s fantastic news!” I exclaimed, reaching over to give her a hug.
“We have got to do something hella fun to celebrate that! We will have to pull out all the stops.” Maisie made a finger gun toward Simone. “I’m thinking Europe.”
“Oooh, maybe France? Sea has always wanted to visit Italy!”
“Stop it, you two! I haven’t graduated yet. Gods, I cannot even think about celebrating until November at the earliest, maybe . I’m still in the absolute trenches right now.” She took a sip of mimosa before she continued. “I also got a raise at work—don’t celebrate it, though. It’s only like a dollar, which is nothing compared to all the work I do for the magazine. Soooo, I’m really considering Dr. Rhois’s offer to move into document preservation. It really excites me, a lot more than being a freaking Marketing Assistant at a pretentious film magazine.” Simone rolled her eyes.
“I definitely think you should take the archiving role! It feels perfect for you. Plus, Rhois can help ensure you are as overpaid as I am. She’s the queen of securing a benefit.”
Simone and I chuckled. Maisie finished off her drink before she said. “I can go next, if that’s cool with you, Bee?”
“It’s all you, babe. How was your week after Monday? Did it get better?” I asked.
Our server appeared to take her empty glass and to let us know our next round was being made before our food comes out. Maisie got her attention before she left. “Can I get my Blood Maria with an extra shot of tequila, please? Thank you!”
When the server nodded and left, I raised my eyebrows. “Damn, that bad?”
“It’s not bad, per se.” Maisie shrugged. Our server returned with our next round of drinks, and Maisie continued. “I haven’t spoken to my mom since Monday. She texted me that she loved me or whatever, but I just can’t talk to her right now. Not after what happened with my father. I just…I just need… I don’t know exactly?—”
“You need time,” Simone said. “You got a lot thrown on you at once. You need time to process and understand everything. I’m sure your mom gets that.”
“I know she does, but it’s hard, you know? We used to talk every other day, and now I’m giving her practical radio silence. I know it’s killing her, but I just can’t deal with that right now. It’s hard enough dealing with what I am.”
I reached over and took her hand, squeezing it. “She isn’t going anywhere, Maze. She understands, and she’ll be there when you are ready to talk everything out. Focus on what you can handle right now. Hell, that’s what I’ve had to do this week.”
Maisie gave me a soft smile. She sighed. “Well, I want to learn more about fitches. With Daddy Dearest being as much of a dead end as he was a deadbeat, I kind of don’t have any other options or any idea what to do next. I just wish I had something .”
“Hey, what about the Archive?” Simone asked.
“Did you already forget the hours we spent reading witch books only to find out everything about how their magic works, but nothing about fitches?”
“Yeah, but there are books about them, right, Byrd? Aren’t they just locked in the Vaults or something?”
Realization dawned on me as I followed Simone’s train of thought. “I get what you are saying! Simone is right. The Archive has materials on fitches, for sure, but they are protected and locked away in the Vaults. Still, the Archive and Izzy would both be happy to lend you some of the works to get some answers.”
“Holy fuck, that’s such a good idea,” Maisie said. “Can you ask Isidora if I can come in for research? Maybe I can ask her some questions, too, and she can help!”
“I love it, and I got you! I’ll shoot her and Rhois a text to see if you can come in tomorrow!”
Our food soon arrived, and we started to dive in. I was on my second bite of my Korean BBQ Pork Belly Hash when Simone asked me. “Last, but certainly not least, Byrdie! How was your week?”
All too suddenly, the food became hard to chew in my mouth. I quickly swallowed before chugging the rest of my first espresso martini and most of my second one. Then I filled them in on the grimoire. I told them about how it had come to life and the story of Mom moving to Blackbell and starting to build a life here. Even remembering my mom in living color playing out in front of me was enough to make me tear up.
“The grimoire hasn’t revealed any other stories or anything. It only has that one. But I have read that same story so much I have it memorized by now. You want to know something else crazy? Every time I open the book to read it, my pendant warms up. It’ll stay warm for hours afterward. I have been so cold lately that I have been grateful for it.” I toyed with the necklace as it laid underneath my scarf, casting heat through me alongside the heat of the restaurant.
“Could it be connected to the book?” Simone questioned.
“Could be? I hadn’t thought about that.”
Maisie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Have you experienced anything else weird? Any other random symptoms?”
I shook my head. “No, just being cold all the time. I have to keep the heat full-blasting when I get home, or I will just feel so cold I will never get warm. It makes me just want to sleep for days.”
“Maybe this is all connected: the tattoo, the grimoire, your coldness. But if it is, what if it’s making you sick? What if something comes up and you start feeling worse?” Simone worried.
I shivered. I was afraid to even ask what else could happen. Was a book featuring my dead mom’s handwriting and my crush seeing my scars as a tattoo that no one else could see not bad enough?
Maisie shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense. Yeah, the magic from the book looks similar to your wings, but it’s also not at the same time. It’s tricky to explain it.”
“Well, remember what Izzy said the other day? There’s a complex and powerful concealment spell on the book. Maybe there’s one on Byrd’s back-scar-wing-tattoo thingy, too.”
Maisie chewed her food thoughtfully. “It very well could be. It’s weird, though. The magic just all looks so different. It’s confusing.”
Then Maisie put her fork down. She folded her hands in front of her face and looked at me with a straightforwardness that took me aback. “Bee? Can I ask you something kind of scary and insane?”
“I don’t know if it’s going to be crazier than that question, but shoot.”
“What if Quinn is lying about seeing the tattoo? I mean, no one else can see it. No one else has any idea what she’s talking about. Yes, there is magic there, but it could have just been for healing you and ensuring you stay alive. How do we know this all isn’t just some fool’s errand?”
“Quinn wouldn’t do that,” I said without hesitation.
“But Byrd?—”
“I know what I sound like, okay? I’m sure she’s capable of it. Everyone is capable of failure and disappointment, but I don’t think Quinn would do that to me. My gut is telling me that, not my heart—although she is trying to scream it at me, too. I know I just met her, but I like her a lot and… I just have a feeling about her. I can’t explain it.”
“Hey. I get it.” Simone reached over and grabbed my hand to squeeze. “That’s how I feel about Cole.”
Maisie held her hands up. “Hey, if you like her, I love her. I just want to make sure we explore all avenues here before we go all in on anything. If you trust her, we trust you.”
I nodded.
The three of us continued chit-chatting and finishing our meals. I put on a smile and tried to be present in the conversation, but I was finding it hard to think past Maisie’s question. What if Quinn is lying about seeing the tattoo? Every time my brain asked the question, my gut and heart answered unequivocally NO . It just didn’t feel right or possible. It was like trying to make yourself enjoy Nutella when you would rather eat a playground woodchip. It couldn’t be.
I liked Quinn. I had a huge crush on her. I couldn’t deny that the idea of her was becoming less fictional with every text we sent one another, every FaceTime or phone call, every meme and video, with just everything. I could tell she liked me back, too. She texted me every morning when she woke up. She texted at night to wish me a good night’s rest. She sent the most random questions just to see how I would answer. I could tell that she enjoyed how I thought, and that alone made me want to marry her tomorrow. Quinn just gave no reason to lie about this. She seemed shocked when I told her I couldn’t see the tattoo. She was worried about it and about me. Either she’s a really good actress—which she wasn’t. She worked on building sets in school where I was a performer—or, she’s being earnest. Quinn had just been so incredible.
I—
I didn’t want this to all be too good to be true.