Chapter 28
The following morning I awoke to multiple texts from Jolene. I could tell they were hers from the sheer abundance of emojis. Only Sarah used them with the same frequency, but she was twelve.
“Awoke” was too strong a word following the fitful restlessness and tossing and turning—as much as I could toss and turn while keeping my foot elevated—that had occupied the majority of the time I’d spent in my bed.
More than once, I’d begun to dial Melanie’s number before changing my mind.
I needed advice, but I couldn’t call her.
Instead, I’d texted Jolene and fallen asleep while waiting for a response.
I imagined her having fun with her extended family members, all of them sounding just like her, and I felt a stab of homesickness for my own family.
Or maybe Jolene was having too much fun with Jaxson, something I preferred not to think about.
I’d finally turned off my phone around midnight, since waiting for it to beep was part of what was keeping me awake.
By morning my eyes were crusty and swollen from crying and lack of sleep, and I had to wash my face in cold water to clear my vision and my head so that I could attempt to read Jolene’s texts.
Flipping through them, I saw that she’d sent me multiple pictures of what appeared to be a red car.
Despite the smiley-face and heart emojis that accompanied the photos, my stomach did a sick somersault when I realized they were pictures of the Ford Mustang that Jaxson would be driving back to New Orleans for me.
I considered staying in bed and turning off my phone again. I didn’t want to talk to Beau or Cooper, because despite going over various scenarios in my head instead of sleeping, I hadn’t come up with a single one that could adequately express my anger and disappointment. And my hurt.
Maybe it was a good thing that Sarah was with me, because otherwise I would have rolled over and shoved my face into my pillow so the world would go away at least for a while.
But Sarah was probably awake and waiting for me.
You have bravery on steroids, and I can talk to dead people.
It’s, like, our superpowers. I had serious doubts about my bravery, but for her I had to at least pretend.
Using my crutches, I went in search of Sarah. She was still in her pajamas and wearing a pair of fluffy dog slippers that looked a lot like Mardi, who was curled under her chair at the dining table.
Sarah jumped up, pulled out two chairs for me, and helped me sit.
“Hang on. I’ll get your coffee. Jolene warned me what might happen if you weren’t caffeinated first thing.
” She ran into the kitchen and returned with a coffee mug with Dorothy’s ruby red slippers dotting its pink ceramic surface.
It was Jolene’s favorite mug, but I wasn’t coherent enough to mention that.
I’d just need to make sure that it was washed, dried, and returned to its spot before Jolene got back, or there would be repercussions.
Like being forced to wear false eyelashes.
Or pantyhose (something I’d never seen before I’d roomed with Jolene).
Sarah put the mug in front of me and I took a grateful sip.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Well, the good news is that my head hurts and my eyes sting, which means I’m not noticing the pain in my ankle as much. Which, now that I think about it, is actually hurting more than before.”
“That means it’s healing, right? Can I get you a pain pill? It will probably fix the headache, too.”
I shook my head and immediately wished I hadn’t, as it felt like my brain was slamming against the sides of my skull. “I’m good,” I said.
She looked at me with serious eyes. “Dad doesn’t like taking anything, either. He says he’d rather suffer through it.”
I wasn’t sure how much our parents had shared with her about the addiction tendencies I shared with Jack, so I was careful how I responded. “I just don’t like depending on anything to make me feel better. The pain’s not that bad. Really.” I took another sip of coffee so she wouldn’t see me grimace.
Sarah pushed a plate of Jolene’s reheated muffins toward me. “Are we still planning on going to the Esplanade house today with Cooper?”
I felt physically ill. “I’d rather not. I’m still trying to process everything, and I don’t think I’m ready to see him. I haven’t heard from him, either, which makes it easier not to think about him.”
She placed a muffin on her own plate and began picking at it, pinching off bites and putting them in her mouth. “You sound like Mom. She’s, like, the queen of procrastination. Not that I would ever say that to her face.”
I grunted, not yet ready to engage before I’d had at least a full cup of coffee. I opened my phone to my messages, then slid it over. “Could you please read these texts from Jolene and paraphrase for me? My puffy eyes are messing with my vision.”
Sarah scrolled down the page, pausing occasionally to smile or frown, before finally looking up.
“Bottom line: She’s had a great time and so has Jaxson, but she’s coming home today because she feels guilty about leaving you and me here to fend for ourselves.
” Sarah shrugged, examining the muffin crumbs on the table and the remnants of our meals and snacks in the living room.
“Not sure what she means, since I don’t think we’ve been in starvation mode or anything.
Anyway, she just left, so it’s too late to tell her to stay. ”
I struggled to assemble my brain cells. “She’s on her way? Now?” I looked around at the mess and at the forbidden mug in front of me.
Sarah had already jumped up and begun collecting dirty plates and glasses.
“Don’t worry. I have a lot of practice with making a room look ready for inspection.
Dad and I do it all the time when Mom tells us she’s coming home early.
” She paused, her eyes wide with excitement.
“And now we’ll have a car, so we can go to the house on Esplanade.
As soon as we tell Jolene why we want to go, she’ll be happy to drive us.
Maybe we can stop by to talk with Joan and Honey first, to ask them about the wig. Do you want to call before we leave?”
“I don’t…”
She picked up my phone again and typed in the password—it wasn’t surprising that she knew what it was—and began scrolling through the contacts. “Their last names are Meggison and Wentzel, right? I don’t see them on here.”
“That’s because I don’t have them on my phone. I guess we’ll have to wait.”
Sarah regarded me with a look of hurt and disappointment. “I know you don’t want to do this now, but I’m leaving on Sunday. And you did promise.”
I sighed heavily. “Fine. You’re right. Honey wrote her number on a piece of notepaper that should still be in my backpack.”
She jumped up and retrieved the backpack from the hat stand in the front room, then handed it to me.
“Keep tidying up while I look. The living room isn’t going to clean itself.
” Ignoring her exaggerated groaning, I stuck my hand into my backpack, searching for the small, folded piece of paper.
I rarely cleaned out my backpack except in moments like this, when I was trying to find something in the mess, or when it became too heavy.
I began pulling out the contents and placing them on the table—my wallet; my travel coffee mug, which probably needed washing; an empty pack of gum; a full pack of gum; a lipstick.
I examined the lipstick, not having to wonder who had put it in there or why.
I found the crumpled paper at the very bottom, wedged into the creases of a cloth bag held closed with a tied string.
“I found the phone number,” I called out as I placed the paper on the table.
Then I opened the bag and watched as two stones—one black and one pink—fell onto the table.
They’d been given to me by Madame Zoe, and just as quickly forgotten.
I looked inside the dark crevices at the bottom of the backpack and pulled out the second pouch.
I remembered Beau handing it to me, outright dismissing the stones and everything Madame Zoe had told us.
I’d tossed his pouch into my backpack and forgotten it along with mine.
I untied the string and watched as a green stone and a purple crystal slid out of the bag. I picked up the purple one—amethyst, Madame Zoe had said. Used for enhancing psychic powers. No wonder Beau had wanted nothing to do with the stones.
“What’s that?” Sarah asked, pausing next to me while carrying two folded tray tables to the stand on which they were kept in the corner of the dining area.
“Some kind of psychic-healing stones. Madame Zoe gave them to Beau and me.”
Her eyes widened as she looked at them, making me uneasy.
“What is it, Sarah? What’s wrong?”
“That phone call. From Bonnie. She said to ‘find the stones.’ ” Her worried eyes met mine.
I picked up the obsidian and rose quartz the psychic had given me, and I rubbed them together in my hand.
“But why would Bonnie want us to find them? It’s not like they were lost or anything.
I’ve been carrying them around in my backpack ever since Madame Zoe gave them to us.
I would have discovered them sooner or later. ”
I closed my fist, as if I could squeeze out the answer like juice from a lemon. But when I opened my fingers, the stones remained cold and mute on my palm.
Sarah returned the trays to the stand, her expression thoughtful.
“Can you think of any other stones? Just because you happened to pull these from your backpack doesn’t mean they’re the ones Bonnie was talking about.
I mean, maybe she’s referring to stones you’re using on one of your renovation projects? ”