Chapter 53
Chapter Fifty-Three
Violet left the attic room with her shoulders squared and her head held high. There was a part of her that feared Regina’s retribution, but she knew her magic was stronger.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to light one more protection candle.
She hurried back to her room, but as she neared it, she heard soft music spilling from beneath the door across the hall—the bathroom she now shared with Tillie—and she smiled. Regina could never take this from them.
She turned the knob and slipped inside. Steam hung heavy in the room. Tillie’s portable record player sat on a stool in the corner, while Tillie lay in the clawfoot tub, her arms hanging over the edge. At the sight of Violet, Tillie tilted her head up. It felt like coming home.
“How’d it go?” Tillie asked.
“Regina won’t try to come between us again,” Violet said. “If she does, she’ll no longer live in this house.”
The pipes under the pedestal sink creaked, a soft, sad sound.
“I don’t want to lose her either,” Violet said to the house, “but she doesn’t get to decide how I live my life.”
The bulb above the sink glowed brighter in agreement.
“I’m proud of you,” Tillie said. “I know that couldn’t have been easy.”
“I never thought I’d have to stand up to my little sister,” Violet said.
“I hate the timing of all of this,” Tillie said. “Your parents’ accident was devastating. If you hadn’t been with my family, if our parents hadn’t fought, it never would’ve happened.”
“None of that was your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but my dad’s. He had too much to drink before we left. He shouldn’t have been driving.”
Tillie held a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t know that.”
With a heavy sigh, Violet said, “No one does.” She hadn’t told the police about the whiskey she’d seen him drinking before her mother and sister came out to the car. “I didn’t want to ruin his memory.”
“The secret’s safe with me,” Tillie said sadly. “But I wish us being together didn’t mean me coming between you and your sister.”
“It doesn’t,” Violet said. “Not as far as I’m concerned. If she were in love with someone, I’d welcome them with open arms.”
Tillie gestured to the tub. “Join me?”
Violet crossed the space between them, her eyes trailing over the outline of Tillie’s form beneath the bubbles.
All of her anger, all of her frustration, melted away.
This was what mattered, this woman who’d filled a void in Violet’s heart.
She knelt down and pressed her lips to Tillie’s shoulder, then her collarbone, then the side of her jaw.
With one hand behind Tillie’s head, she brought her mouth to Tillie’s mouth.
Tillie’s lips parted, and Violet kissed her long and slow and deep.
When she pulled back, there were wet handprints on the back of her blouse.
“I’m going to go mix us a couple of Negronis,” Violet said, a little breathless. They drank Manhattans when Regina was around, because it was her drink of choice. But Tillie preferred gin.
“Who needs a drink when someone kisses you like that?” Tillie asked, voice husky.
Violet leaned over once more, planting a small kiss on Tillie’s cheek. She hurried into the hall. A splash came from the room behind her, and Violet smiled, letting herself relive the moment, reminding herself this was what life was about—love and joy and being seen.
As she reached the staircase, she ran right into Regina.
Her sister took a step back, bringing her close to Violet’s height. They stood there for a few moments in silence. Regina opened her mouth to speak with something like hope in her eyes, but Violet held up a hand.
“I think you’ve said enough tonight.”
Regina frowned, but before she could reply, the house started to moan, as if the pipes were about to burst. It was a desperate sort of sound, and though Violet wanted to reassure the house she would patch what Regina had broken between them, she couldn’t make that promise.
“Vi …” Regina started to say, but Violet turned back the way she came. Tillie was right. They didn’t need gin with a love like theirs.
As much as Violet wanted to run for the bathroom, to leave her sister behind and crawl into Tillie’s arms, she held her head high and walked slowly.
She wouldn’t let Regina get the best of her.
But as soon as she rounded the corner, she picked up her pace.
When she rested her hand on the doorknob, she took a long deep breath.
“No Negronis,” she said as she stepped inside. “I ran into—”
Violet stopped short.
Tillie lay in the tub, her arms hanging limp over the edge, almost like she’d fallen asleep.
“Tillie?”
There was no response.
“Tillie,” Violet said again, this time louder.
When Tillie didn’t move, Violet ran toward her, slipping on water that had spilled over the edge.
She steadied herself with a hand on the wall.
Then, she dropped to her knees. Tillie’s eyes were open and unblinking, her lips blue.
Violet grabbed her by the shoulders, trying to lift her out of the tub, but she was too heavy for Violet to move on her own.
“Regina!” Violet screamed her sister’s name. “Help me!”
Within moments, Regina was there in the doorway. Violet held Tillie by the arms.
“What happened?” Regina asked, shock in her voice.
There was no time to explain. “Grab her legs.”
Together they lifted Tillie from the tub.
Water splashed over the edges, drenching them both.
Once they had her on the ground, Violet dropped to her knees, squeezed Tillie’s nose, and brought her mouth to Tillie’s.
She breathed and breathed and breathed, but no matter how many times she tried to force air into Tillie’s lungs, Tillie never coughed up the water.
Violet rested a hand on Tillie’s chest, right above her heart. It moved weakly beneath her palm.
Thump.
Thump.
Then, it stopped.
Violet thought her heart might have stopped with it. Fear clawed at her throat, and tears sprang up in her eyes.
“No,” she whispered.
As the words left her mouth, the walls started to shake. The tap on the sink and the faucet in the tub turned on, like the house, too, was crying. She pressed her ear to Tillie’s chest, listened for one more beat, but she was met with only the groaning of the pipes.
A sob tore from her throat.
Violet felt her heart breaking. She grew cold, right in the middle of her chest where once she had felt every warm and wonderful thing. It was as if the light inside of her dimmed, and she didn’t know if it would ever burn brightly again.