Chapter 10
January
Three Months Until The Wedding
The shears snap shut and a shwing echoes throughout the room. The hanging scarves seem to tremble. I peek out from behind tightly shut eyes and see Trip looking relatively…the same. His head is bowed toward Ruby and she holds a small brown tuft in her delicate hand. His hair?
Satisfaction gleams in her eyes. “This should do it.” Moving toward a low wooden table in the corner, she tosses the hair into a stone bowl, where it disappears into liquid.
She moves to a series of shelves and pulls out small bottles, murmuring to herself as she replaces some with others.
Tipping the contents of the bottles into the bowl with Trip’s hair, she mutters something under her breath. The bowl begins to smoke.
I’m flooded with the scent of a breeze blowing in off the ocean, salt water and clean air. Crisp linen and fresh laundry. Is this scent…Trip? I’ve never been able to smell him before.
Ruby dips her head toward the bowl and breathes in. “The curse is still there. Tied to your essence.”
Trip gestures toward himself. “Thanks. I had my suspicions.”
“Your grandfather and I did extensive work together to arrive at a solution. These things are fickle and don’t easily reveal themselves.”
Trip runs his hand through his hair. “We don’t have the luxury of time. Is there anything you can give us? My grandfather mentioned that it might have to do with a…marriage. Or some kind of union between two people?” His jaw tenses.
“I do keep records.” Ruby moves to the side of the room opposite the table, where a tall bookcase holds a mishmash of spines—some old and worn, others brand-new.
She runs her finger along them until she reaches a brown leather-bound notebook.
Carrying it over to the table, she lays it open and flips through the pages.
“Ah, here we are.” Her finger taps a page with several lines of scrawl.
I move closer to make out the words. A tingle up my spine tells me Trip does as well.
Coldwells and Carmichaels, a deal gone awry,
The resulting curse no businessman could scry.
Only their union will settle the suit,
And rip out this fast-spreading rot by the root.
Should a Coldwell heart wed the Carmichael diamonds,
Then happier days are on the horizon.
Bridge the divide and the curse will unlatch,
But the lost Carmichael diamond must seal the match.
I read through a second time, just to let the words sink in, before pulling out my phone. “Do you mind if I take a picture of this?”
Ruby shakes her head and I snap a photo.
“Where did this come from?” I lift my gaze from the notebook. “How did you discover this poem?”
“All curses must be constructed with rules and conditions. This poem outlines the stipulations of this particular curse.” Ruby turns to Trip. “In working with your grandfather, we were able to parse the magic binding your family’s contract with the Carmichaels.”
“The contract.” I fiddle with my necklace, pulling it across my bottom lip. “So the curse did originate with the Carmichaels.”
“It would seem so.” Ruby fidgets with one of her rings. “There is the contract written in ink and the one written in magic.” She taps the page in front of us. “Like invisible ink, able to be revealed with the right tools.”
“So what’s the answer, then?” Trip asks. “A marriage between the two families sealed with some missing diamond?”
“The words are not for me to decipher.” Ruby folds her hands together. “You must seek your own understanding.” She turns, facing the windows and putting her back to us. “Come back if you have questions.”
Is that our cue to leave?
I dig in my purse for a few crumpled bills and throw them onto the table next to the smoking bowl. “Th-thank you.” I’m Dorothy running away from the Wizard of Oz, head spinning with more questions than answers.
—
Out on the sidewalk in the sunlight, my eyes readjust to the brightness as I head toward the closest subway stop.
Trip pulls up short of the corner. “Well, that was a colossal waste of time.”
“What do you mean? It confirmed what we thought, didn’t it? Carter and Sabrina need to get married and they need some sort of ring to ‘seal the deal’?”
“Yeah, I guess. I just—I thought we might learn something different. That there might be some alternative.”
“Well.” I press my hands flush with his chest, a buzzing radiating through them.
I must look insane. Luckily, the street is relatively empty.
“Sounds like our marching orders are the same. Make this wedding happen. With the bonus task of finding the lost Carmichael diamond. Unless you’ve given up on reuniting with your favorite body part? ”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I would still like to be reunited with my body. All the parts.”
“Then we move forward. I have registry shopping with Sabrina this weekend. I can fish for information about this lost diamond.”
“He seriously has you going registry shopping? God, do you ever just tell him to screw himself?”
“No. And my involvement is coming in handy for you, I’ll remind you.” I turn on my heel.
Trip’s voice is just above a whisper. “He bends to them, and you bend to him.”
“What?” I spin back around and look at him.
“You think Carter and Sabrina just magically found each other? When their marriage also just happens to break the family curse. I’m telling you he was pushed into this. I know it.” There’s fire in his eyes, energy radiating off his nonexistent body.
“How can you be sure? Your families are close. It’s not that unreasonable to think—”
“Because I was almost forced into the same thing.” His voice booms like the slamming of a metal door.
The words hit me like a bus, stopping me in my tracks. “You mean—Sabrina. The thing your grandfather asked you to do. It was marry Sabrina? Is that what you fought about?”
Trip hangs his head, but his posture confirms my suspicion.
“And you refused.”
He lifts his head and sticks his hands in his pockets. “Yup.”
Sabrina visited him at the hospital that day—said their families were old friends. “Were you and Sabrina—”
“No. We weren’t together.” His top teeth catch on his bottom lip. I’m not sure if it’s his mouth or his words that send a flutter through my chest.
I clear my throat and press my palm to my collarbone. “Then what is your deal with Carter? Shouldn’t you find it noble that he would agree to do what your grandfather asked? That he’s also saving you from this?”
“Carter will never step out of the lines this family has drawn for him, never do anything for himself.”
“Isn’t that admirable?”
“No. It’s not. He doesn’t take risks, doesn’t go after what he wants. Probably why he’s kept someone like you around as long as he has.”
I narrow my eyes. “Someone like me?”
“Yeah. Someone incredible and way too good for him, who he’ll never have the balls to admit his feelings for.”
I have never, in my life, been called too good for Carter. A balloon inflates in my chest, simultaneously painful and exhilarating.
“And you let him, because you have the same problem.” Just like that, the balloon pops.
“What do you mean?”
“You let him walk all over you. Never saying what you really want. That you love him, Elz. How many years have you lived with that secret? Just for some bullshit reason like—what? You’re afraid of how he’ll react?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Maybe you two are made for each other.”
I put my hands on my hips, my heart pumping so hard I can feel it in my shoulders, in my arms. “You know what, Trip? Loyalty is loyalty. Standing by family, by friends, doesn’t mean they owe us anything.
I’m not friends with Carter because I expect something in return. Relationships aren’t transactional.”
“Yes, but they’re still a two-way street. There’s a difference between being loyal to someone and letting them take advantage of you.”
This man has nerve. But his words awaken the ugly self-doubt I’ve spent a decade burying.
My tongue takes on a mind of its own, lashing back.
“I get it. You made a mistake. You chose not to believe your grandfather and you were wrong. But that doesn’t mean you can take it out on other people for choosing to put others first—”
“Not when it means putting yourself last—”
“I’m not finished.” Steam must be blowing out of my ears with how hot my face feels. “You were selfish, you chose your own life over your family’s, and look where it got you.”
His eyelids flutter closed, and he sighs deeply. He opens them again but keeps his eyes downcast.
“Trust me, Elz. If I do still have a life, I’ll be hating myself for the rest of it.”