Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Over the next few days, Regina feigned happiness for Violet and Tillie while she tried, three separate times, to use her magic to come between them.
The first attempt had been the morning after she discovered them in a state of undress, when she’d found them drinking coffee in the kitchen.
Judging by the bags under their eyes, they hadn’t slept any better than Regina had.
“I thought I might make dinner for all of us tonight,” Regina said as she poured herself a cup. “We didn’t get to celebrate Tillie moving in properly.”
Violet’s eyes narrowed. Regina avoided meeting them by pouring milk into her coffee, adding a spoonful of sugar, and stirring three times clockwise.
“You don’t make dinner,” Violet said.
Her sister wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t that Regina didn’t know how to cook. She’d learned from her mother when she was a girl, but after their parents’ deaths, Violet had taken on all the responsibility herself.
“It’s a special occasion,” Regina said. “I was thinking beef stroganoff.”
“That sounds delicious,” Tillie said.
“It’s Violet’s favorite.” Though she didn’t mean for it to, Regina’s voice had a bit of a malice in it.
“You never told me that,” Tillie said.
“I don’t have it often,” Violet said. “It makes me think of my mother.”
“Now you can reclaim it,” Regina said with a forced lightness. “And think of Tillie instead.”
Violet made a thoughtful noise as Regina watched her over the rim of her coffee cup.
After Tillie and Violet left, Regina got to work.
She started with the same spell she’d used to keep her sister from loving a man.
It had worked perfectly well for years. Regina simply hadn’t been broad enough with the types of people her sister might come to love, so she expanded her wording.
As soon as she finished, she took the candles into the house, set one up in her favorite spot in the attic, and prepared to light it.
But the moment she tried, the window opened, and a breeze blew out her match.
“Not this again,” she said.
Her lamp flared brighter, as if to say, “Yes, this again.”
“I can’t have Tillie stealing my sister away from me,” Regina said. “Whether you like her or not.”
She walked over to the window and slammed it shut. Then, she struck another match. The window opened a crack.
“Don’t you understand?” Regina asked. “If it weren’t for Tillie’s family, we’d never have lost Mother and Father.
They took us on that stupid trip so they could convince Father to sell his shop.
If we hadn’t been out with them, then he wouldn’t have been driving so fast. He wouldn’t have lost control, and he wouldn’t have hit the tree. ”
The lights flared brighter, curious.
“Lucky for the Greys I suppose. If they hadn’t died, Violet never would’ve sold the store,” she paused, a new thought taking form. “Maybe a little too lucky.”
She’d said something similar to Violet the day Tillie moved in.
But the more she thought about it, the more she wondered.
Her father hadn’t been the most careful driver, but he’d never been reckless.
As riled up as he’d been, he wouldn’t have rounded the corner so fast if he thought he wouldn’t be able to stop.
“For all we know, Tillie’s father did something to the car, and now you’re playing music so Violet can dance with his daughter.”
The light dimmed, and the window closed.
“That’s better.”
Regina lit the candle. But as it started to burn, the taper melted in a way Regina had never seen before. Rather than a steady burn, the flame flitted this way and that, sending uneven rivulets of wax down the edge.
“Is this your doing?” she asked the house.
The light flickered off. No.
“I’ll light another just in case.”
That night at dinner, Regina sat with an untouched plate of beef stroganoff in front of her.
She’d expected Violet to come home without Tillie thanks to her magic.
When she’d heard their laughter from the kitchen, she thought maybe her spell simply hadn’t taken hold yet.
She’d almost run up to the attic to see if her candles had finished burning, but she didn’t want to arouse Violet’s suspicion.
Instead, she’d dished up their plates, poured them each a glass of wine, and set the table.
As Regina brought her fork to her lips, a record started spinning in the other room, the lights dimmed, and Regina lost her appetite.
“Tillie and I were talking at work today,” Violet started to say, her voice a little hesitant.
Regina sat up straighter, thinking this was the moment she’d been waiting for.
“What do you think about adding a few more hives to the apiary?” Violet asked. “We’re always running out of candles at the shop. With more bees, we’d have more wax so we could dip more candles.”
Regina slumped back in her seat. “That’s an idea,” she said. Then, she drained her drink.
She tried another candle the next morning, only to find it melted wrong. At dinner, things were much the same. Regina sat, moving rice around on her plate, trying not to show her disappointment at the happiness between Violet and Tillie.
“I got everything to make waffles in the morning,” Violet said. “Just like Mom used to.”
Regina blinked a few times as her sister’s words sank in. She glanced at the wall calendar hanging from the side of cabinet, and the date stared back at her. Tomorrow was October thirteenth. With everything that had happened, she’d almost forgotten the anniversary of her parents’ deaths.
She pressed a hand to her chest, taking pause at all the pain she’d felt over the past few days. Her fear over losing her sister had shadowed every waking moment. She wondered if she’d had it wrong. If it had simply been her grief sneaking up on her and finding a new way to express itself.
“Do you want me to take off work tomorrow?” Violet asked. “I could stay home. We could play a few games of backgammon out by the bees. Drink a Manhattan before noon.”
“I can pick up lunch at the diner on my break,” Tillie offered.
The sound of Tillie’s voice snapped Regina out of the moment.
“I’ll be fine,” Regina said. “It’s been thirteen years.”
“That doesn’t mean the pain’s gone,” Violet said gently.
“No,” Regina agreed. “But I’ve learned to live with it.”
Violet made the same breakfast every year to mark their parents’ deaths, and every year Regina found comfort that she didn’t have to live with this grief alone.
But now, as Tillie wrapped an arm around Violet, Regina realized for the first time that she was alone, and if things continued this way, it would never be just her and Violet again.
After dinner, Regina had gone straight for the attic and lit her fourth and final taper.
As the flame blew toward one side, the wax dripped off the edge while the rest of the candle remained unaffected by the heat.
She started to wonder if somehow she’d done something wrong while dipping them.
But, no, that wasn’t possible. If there was one thing Regina excelled at, it was magic.
Only Violet was better, simply because she was older.
As a Caldwell aged, her magic grew stronger.
That was when the realization hit her. If her own magic wasn’t working, it must be because Violet was countering her spells.
Regina thought she’d been so careful. She welcomed Tillie in after she learned the truth.
She made them dinner. She suggested they all spend time together.
She played back the last few days in her mind.
She’d let slip about the candles she’d made to keep men away from Violet, but that shouldn’t have mattered.
Her sister had always trusted her, had always believed Regina only wanted the very best for her.
And that was true. Every spell Regina had cast on her sister’s behalf had been for her own good.
For her own happiness. Violet might have thought she was in love with Tillie, but she’d never find the sort of happiness in love that she would find in a life spent with her sister.
If Violet truly was countering Regina’s magic, there was little Regina could do about it. Her sister had left Regina with only one choice: She had to find another way to get rid of Tillie.