Chapter 29
NOW
When we pull back up to the house, Sammie comes running out of the front door and then hops from foot to foot on the hot gravel waiting for me to get out.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Harrison. He didn’t come. The first time it was Saturday he came, then yesterday we weren’t home, but today I was here and he didn’t come.”
I glance at Austin, who is getting groceries out of the bed of the truck. “That might be our fault.”
“Your fault?” She goes to Austin to help with the bags. “How?”
“Well, our fault for disrupting the pattern. We ran into him at the High Dive, and Austin invited him to dinner.”
“To dinner?” she exclaims, nearly dropping the bag. The one with eggs in it.
“Hey, careful.” I take it from her. “Yes, for dinner.”
“Oh, no, that guy has always had such a crush on me! Last time I saw him he asked if I wanted to go horseback riding with him.” She makes a face.
“That sounds fun,” says Austin, shutting the tailgate and heading toward the house. “What’s wrong with that? He’s a nice guy.”
“He’s too nice.”
“Or maybe you’re used to assholes.” I pull open the screen door. Sammie makes a sound and I turn to look at her. “What?”
Sammie lowers her voice, cocking her head toward Austin, who’s just out of earshot. “Speak for yourself. Maybe you’re the one rejecting the nice guy.”
“No, Austin is an asshole too. Maybe I should give Harrison a chance.”
“Back off, he’s my crush to unrequite!”
“That is not a word.”
“It is now.” She observes me for an extra beat, and then asks, “Why are you so relaxed? You seem almost normal.”
“Normal?”
“Like someone surgically removed the stick from your ass.”
“Ah, you know, I’d forgotten how pleasant you could be.”
But my gaze catches with hers, and for the first time, the eye contact sends us both laughing.
Just like it always used to. I used to not even be able to look at my sister without laughing.
On the occasions where we were in a serious setting, not allowed to laugh, we’d look at each other and it would be all we wanted to do.
I’d have to breathe tightly through my nose and suck in my lips, practically holding my breath to stop from cracking up. Over nothing.
“I may have had a few beers with lunch,” I concede.
“At the High Dive? Oh I’m so jealous, I love that place. Did you get the shrimp roll?”
“Obviously.”
She groans. “I had cheese and crackers. That’s so much more fun. I want to have beer and shrimp rolls. Well, what’s dinner going to be?”
“Lobster thermidor and a beet and goat cheese salad.”
“Oh … really?”
I can sense her doubt. Practically hear her saying that maybe it’s too complicated considering how badly the pasta went. “I’m literally a professional chef, Sam, it’ll be fine. The other dinner stuff was a fluke. Two flukes. There’s no such thing as three flukes.”
Austin puts the bags down. “Careful, Sammie. Don’t poke the bear.”
I give him a look. “Am I the bear?”
“Not walking into that trap. I’m going to go get a quick workout in before it starts raining.”
I want to fight with him about everything he said, including being accused of potentially fighting. I land on: “Before it starts raining? Are we really just assuming it will?”
“Did you get shrimp at the grocery store, or did you stop yourself when you realized Mr. Kelly might be coming back around?” he challenges.
“Right.” I blink down at the jar of horseradish I got for cocktail sauce, with the intention of a shrimp appetizer. I’ve been pretty good at being in denial about my mother’s death, my severed relationship with my sister for almost a decade, the grudges against my old friends … why not this too?
“I’ve got an idea about that.” Matt comes in then. He takes in the groceries. “Lobster? Don’t you want to try something a little…”
“Fuck’s sake, guys, I cook way harder stuff like every night of my life!” I breathe in through my nose and count to three before saying, “Matt, you have an idea?”
“Yes. Okay, so I think we should try to stay up all night. If this is a mental thing, or if it’s … I don’t know, more than that, that’ll tell us something. Right?”
I consider for a moment, and then realize there’s a heavy weight on my chest at the idea. I dig deeper and think it might be because … maybe I don’t want to break the spell.
The spell.
I gasp and drop the carton of eggs on the floor.
“Didion!” Sammie puts a hand on my back. “What— Are you okay?”
“Birdie, no.” Austin whistles to prevent the dog from licking up the sharp, eggy mess.
The storm. What Babe said about oaks and time. The Lithuanian witches we supposedly hail from. All things I found ridiculous at worst or at best to be a cute story.
“Sorry,” I say, faintly.
“What is it?” Matt eyes me gravely.
“Nothing … nothing, I’ll be fine. I’ve got this, I can clean up. Don’t—You guys can go outside or—or…”
“Didion, talk to us.”
I look at her. Stare into her deep, pale blue eyes. I could tell her what I just remembered. That night we did Halloween in July, and Babe told us we were special. Told us we had one spell in our lifetime. She would know. She was there. She will know what this might mean.
What I’m suddenly certain it means.
This is Babe’s One Big Spell.