Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
H ow did the chicken catch on fire?!
Sirena looked away for what felt like a second to her phone, and suddenly the alarm was going off and Shadow was howling. Smoke was billowing from the pan, and the chicken looked like a charred brick. Panic jolted through her veins. Sirena snapped off the burner and dropped the smoking pan into the sink. She backed away from the stove, not trusting herself to do anything else but stand there. The pan hissed and sizzled, and she watched the smoke snake up to the ceiling.
Gus raced into the kitchen, his forehead wrinkled.
“Are you okay?” he said, his voice laced with concern.
She nodded woodenly. A painful stab of regret went through her body. I scared him . Gus went over to the windows and opened them to let the smoke out. Sirena seemed to watch him from a distance as he turned on the exhaust fan over the stove. The whir jerked her back into herself. The Lighthouse interview was tomorrow, and she couldn’t cook a piece of chicken? That familiar mixture of failure and doubt stole the breath from her lungs.
A whine escaped her mouth, but nothing else came out. Gus reached out for Sirena, but she reeled away from him, feeling lightheaded. Her lungs screamed for air, but no matter what she did she couldn’t get enough of it.
He met her eyes; his gaze didn’t waver from hers. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure it out.”
No, it wasn’t okay. Nothing she did mattered. Despair pressed on her chest, and her inner voice mocked her. You went back in time just to fail. You wasted his time just to fail.
She was giving it her all, but she couldn’t keep herself from failing. Sirena tried to force words out from her mouth, but nothing came out but gasps. Nana gave her so many rules, but there wasn’t a rule for how to come back from failure. Gus took her hands. Focus on his touch , her brain demanded. His hands were smooth and warm. She squeezed them and held on tight.
He brought her over to the kitchen table and sat down with her. Gus took a big, exaggerated inhale and let it out with an exhale. She took a half breath; her body shuddered. Her chest loosened up a little. He repeated the actions, and somehow her brain was able to process what he was doing. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. She followed his example, gulped down steadying breaths. Cool air rushed into her lungs. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Gus kept going, and with each breath, she regained her calmness. Her thoughts slowed down.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he said.
Sirena just blinked. She was too tired to cry. “My interview is tomorrow, and I can’t get the recipe right. I’ve messed up twice and it’s too late to change anything and I’ve got to reschedule.”
“Wait,” Gus pleaded gently. She didn’t deserve his tenderness.
“I can’t get the recipe right!” she shouted. “I’ve messed up twice and it’s too late to change anything and I… I have to reschedule. I’ve done—we’ve done—too much work just for me to screw up again.”
Sirena swallowed hard. “I can’t slow down. There’s not enough time. I keep making silly mistakes. Salt instead of sugar. Flour instead of baking soda. Hot rather than cold.”
“Let’s slow down and figure out what we can do,” he said. “You cooked all this wonderful food at the society. Why can’t you replicate that same experience here?” He squeezed her hands. “Talk it out.”
She looked away from Gus and focused on the stove. “I remember the day Nana Ruth got that fancy new stove. She was so happy, she turned on the radio and danced. She applied to cooking school, but her parents told her that it wasn’t a real career and refused to pay for it. Nana picked another career, but she always wished she did things differently.”
His eyes took on a kind glint. “I hear you.”
Sirena took a calming breath. “She was my biggest supporter. My career is everything Nana Ruth and my aunties ever wanted and hoped for themselves. I’ve been biding my time and waiting until I could get a shot at Lighthouse, and finally, I have a chance to make good. Nana Ruth picked me , over my sisters, over my cousin, to be the one to carry her magic. I messed up. I lost all my recipes to a scammer. What kind of witch am I if I can’t protect my magic? I don’t deserve to touch her stove.”
She faced Gus.
He spoke, his voice a ruthless whisper. “Let them have those papers.”
“Excuse me?” Her nerves tensed immediately. The kindness drained from his eyes, and what remained was a polite coldness that stole her voice. Gus wasn’t going to hold his tongue. Sirena stilled and waited for him to continue.
“Let that thief try to duplicate what you already possess, a natural talent and magic for conjuring meals. They get those papers, but they don’t get to have you. I know what it’s like to carry on a magical legacy and have the responsibility. Plenty of people stole my illusions, but they couldn’t steal my talent. Let me remind you in case you forgot. My bewitching dear, you are a Caraway. With the power you possess, you take the most ordinary items and make them into extraordinary meals. Some chefs fill bellies. You fill up souls.”
Sirena listened, his words a balm to the wounds she’d inflicted on herself.
Gus brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, making sure to touch the ring. She never took it off. “Do you remember what I told you you are?”
Sirena recalled the words he’d written down for her by the carousel. “I remember.”
You’re irreplaceable.
She’d gotten so busy planning out the menu and tinkering with recipes that she hadn’t looked at the paper again.
“It’s not enough to know it,” he said. “You have to believe it.”
She looked down at her lap. It was hard to forgive herself for being so careless. “But—”
He tucked his hand under her chin and lifted her head. “Believe.”
That single word vibrated in her soul. She looked into his eyes, and she allowed herself to let the words take root. Sirena leaned away from Gus’s touch and truly thought about what she had to do to get herself to believe in her magic.
What makes you so irreplaceable? She thought about everything she’d achieved and everything she’d done in her life. Sirena showed up and showed out at events for her family, friends, and community. She was the keeper of the hearth and left fresh lavender and sage at the family altar. She invoked the ancestors with every recipe that was handed down to her from Nana.
Doubt hissed in her ear. What would Nana say about your big mistake?
Sirena couldn’t bring herself to respond, and the doubt chuckled in nasty glee.
Immediately, she heard a small, slivery voice from within her heart. She gasped as the voice spoke to her, strong and filled with compassion.
My sweet child, I’d say, in this family we forgive each other. When we make mistakes, we move forward with love and support. We get back up when we fall.
Sirena wiped away a stray tear as Nana’s voice faded away, taking the doubt along with it. Everything felt weary, but she wasn’t going to quit on herself anymore. Sirena had the rules and could find her way. She went to stand up and claim her stove, but Gus eased her back into her seat.
“Sit down and rest for a moment,” he said. “I’m going to make you a cup of tea, and we’re going to figure this out.”
That evening, Sirena invited him into her kitchen.
Over three cups of tea, Sirena told Gus about the first meal she ever made. She was five years old when Nana Ruth had told her the story of stone soup. For days, Sirena begged Nana to help her cook that magical soup for her and her sisters. Sirena picked the perfect stone from the garden. It was smooth and gray, the size of her small palm. She washed it off in the sink. Nana dropped it into the pot. She added the chopped vegetables, stock, and seasonings and stirred the mixture. Nana let Sirena sprinkle in the salt, pepper, and fresh oregano from the garden.
Sirena jumped up from the table and got out her notebook from the counter before she finished the story. An intense desire to write down everything she remembered fueled her fingers as she scribbled on the pages. She filled several pages with everything she recalled about the soup and sketched out the ingredients in the margins. By the time Sirena was finished writing the story and recipe, her fingertips were covered in ink. She turned to Gus at the table and showed him her hands, and her heart sang in appreciation.
Sirena: Good morning. Happy birthday!
Gus: Good morning. Thank you. Have you heard from Lighthouse about an offer?
Sirena: Not yet. No news is good news. But the manager did email me to say how much she loved the stone soup and sandwich combo. I think she wanted the recipe.
Gus: That’s nice. They can have the recipe WHEN they hire you. You’re too talented to be ignored.
Sirena: You’re so sweet. This is why I love you.
Gus: [no response]
Sirena: I’ll see you at the party tonight.