Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty-One
S amhain night had given her all the feels. Liberty basked in the joy of a successful holiday and didn’t let herself think about the stuff that was fucked up right now. So that meant no thinking about John Jones. Instead she was focused on the harvest celebration that WiCKed Sisters was sponsoring in the park off the main street, at the top of the hill just beyond the Bootless Soldier Tavern.
The staff they’d hired for the shop were running it today while she, Poppy and Sera set up little booths where they were offering hands-on workshops for their crafts. They were also selling special T-shirts that promoted the Charm, Curse or Confluence game that they developed and sold in the shop.
“Want a hand? Poppy’s got her booth handled,” Merle said.
She hadn’t seen him since Samhain. They’d been texting a bit, but he’d mentioned he was busy with a big work project. She’d never been clingy—hell, she’d never really had a relationship like this one—so she’d been surprised that she missed him so much.
“Were you looking for someone to handle?” she asked, because she’d missed him, and because he looked really good wearing his faded jeans and Roll To Hit hoodie.
“I was looking for you,” he said, coming closer to her until there wasn’t even an inch of space between them.
He put his hands on her hips and leaned down, the warmth of his breath brushing over her mouth a moment before his lips touched hers.
Merle was a good kisser. There was no doubt about that. The way he let his lips rest on hers for a moment before he parted them seduced her every time. As if he needed to savor every moment. He was a details man and never rushed anything.
She put her hands on his waist and went up on tiptoe to deepen the kiss. It was a few moments later when he lifted his head. “So, you’re good?”
She laughed. “No, I’m hot and horny. But there’s no time for that right now. I have to get these crystals organized and I need to put out the tarot card cloths.”
“I’ll take care of the first later. For now, do you want me to unpack the cloths? That’s right in my skill set.”
“Everything’s in your skill set,” she said. Merle was efficient at everything he did. He never hesitated to volunteer to help with any job, no matter how small, and she really appreciated that. And him.
“Ha. Glad you think so,” he said, smacking her butt before he went to work on unboxing the cloths.
Watching him just made her want to drag him into the wooded area at the end of the park and do something very elemental with him. So she forced herself to turn away and went back to the crystals.
Someone cleared their throat, and she looked up to see her mom standing there.
“Morning, baby girl,” Mom said as she came closer. “I brought some apples and some different herbs from the sunroom. Do you want my help mixing them when the festival starts?”
Liberty looked at her mom. She was still a little mad at her for their talk the other night, despite what they worked through on Samhain. Her mom was probably here because she wanted to move on. If Liberty could just let go of being petty and stop holding on to her hurt...well, that would be the adult thing to do, right?
But she wasn’t ready to yet. She had promised her answers but had been avoiding her since Samhain. What good would pushing do? Liberty acknowledged that she’d shut down if anyone backed her into a corner, and she was definitely her mother’s daughter.
Except her mom looked sad and tired, and even with her weary smile it was clear she really wanted to be here with Liberty. So Liberty sighed and said, with all the angst-y bitterness of her former fourteen-year-old self, “Sure, if you want to.”
Her mom moved behind the tables and started to set up the booth. Merle glanced over at them. He lifted both eyebrows and shifted his head toward her mom. Liberty just gave him the finger.
She knew she should talk to her mom.
She knew that it was her mom’s prerogative to tell her about the past.
She also knew that she was being a brat.
So why wasn’t she letting it go? It wasn’t as if she was going to stay mad at her mom forever. She wasn’t. She just wanted her mom to know...
She put the last of the crystals on the table and joined her mom. She threw one arm around her in a hug. Her mom squeezed her back, and Liberty put her head on her mom’s shoulder, feeling the weight of their strain settle over her.
“I’m not being a bitch just to be one. I’m hurt that you won’t tell me whatever it is you’re hiding about my dad.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t figure out the right way to tell you what you’ve asked for.”
“Was it easier figuring this out when I was sixteen?” Liberty asked.
“Yes and no.”
“Mom.”
“Sorry, Lib. It’s just... I knew what the sperm donor said in his letter, so that would have driven what you asked me.”
“Is there something you don’t want me to know? Is it that bad?” Liberty asked.
“Yes. So much. My life before you were born was a hot mess. I’m not going to pretend that it wasn’t. I don’t want to remember being that person, and I certainly don’t want you to know about her. She made bad choices and mistakes.”
Liberty hugged her mom closer for a second. No matter how conflicted she was about John Jones, the last thing she wanted was to hurt her mom. But her mom also owed her the truth. Liberty was an adult.
“We all make mistakes,” Liberty reminded her.
“Thanks, Lib. Let’s talk after the festival,” Mom said.
Liberty glanced over at Merle and he just lifted both eyebrows again and tipped his head to the side, as if to say “See? That worked.” She went back to setting everything up without acknowledging his told-you-so moment.
She wasn’t sure how she felt that he’d made her do the right thing. Liberty was used to indulging in her tempers until she finally was ready to let things go. Merle made her want to be a better person. Disappointing him did something to her, made her feel something she couldn’t name.
But no matter. She wasn’t going to give it any more thought.
Work had kept Merle busy, but he’d also dug deeper into John Jones. He’d even gone so far as to compose a draft e-mail to the man since Liberty wasn’t sure about contacting him directly. He’d planned on talking to her about it today, but seeing her and her mom, he hesitated. If they’d just been straight up friends-with-no-benefits or if he’d just been doing her a favor, then he might have simply texted her the info and left it at that. But they weren’t. Merle wanted to work through it with her in case she needed him.
He’d seen her the other night, hurt and quiet over her Nan and coming to terms with her illness. That wasn’t the Liberty he knew, so unsure of herself.
But when they went apple picking and she defended him—forcing him to face his own fears—and then on Samhain, full of her witchy-womanly power, he saw that she was coming back to herself, and he’d missed that version of her.
Watching her being bratty with her mom made him want to laugh and hug her. Liberty wasn’t subtle. When she was pissed at you, she let you know.
Hopefully she wouldn’t feel that way about him.
He was aware that she might not appreciate him sitting on the details of her father this long. But...he thought it would be better for her if she fixed things with her mom first. Her mom more than likely had the same information he had uncovered. It felt wrong to avoid asking Liberty about it again, but it also felt wrong to take away the chance for Liberty’s mom to be honest with her first.
After Liberty and her mom set up the tarot booth, he’d gone back to working in Poppy’s area for the festival. His cousin was demonstrating how to read tea leaves while he served hot cider and apple muffins. Apples, like Liberty told him, played a big role in Samhain. Poppy had explained it all in detail as she made the muffin batter, but Merle had drifted off as he debated what to do about Liberty.
“Whew, that last group had so many questions. And those little kids dressed in witches’ robes were so cute,” Poppy said as she came over and threaded her arm through his.
“Yeah.”
She indicated to Liberty with a tilt of her head. “How’s that going?”
He and Poppy were close, and he loved her more than anyone in his family. She understood him and she knew Liberty really well.
“Not sure,” he said. “I like her. Maybe too much for what she’s expecting from me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. Why do you feel that way?”
He shrugged. Not really comfortable telling Poppy about Liberty’s struggles. Liberty told her friends a lot, but it was clear that this latest development with her mom was something she needed to sit on. “Just do.”
“Just do. You sound like your dad. And you never sound like him. If you don’t want to talk about her, it’s okay,” Poppy said.
“I do and I don’t. I’m just confused.”
Poppy smiled at him. “Join the club. Relationships are hard.”
“Like Alistair? What did he say about the wedding?”
“Nothing. He’s doing some kind of a beer brewing now and is part of my tea society.”
“How’s that?”
Poppy twisted her fingers together and then shook her head. “Strange. He’s like the guy who I first met at uni. Funny and interesting.”
“And?”
“I can’t trust that. He was totally putting on a show the first time,” she said. “I don’t want to be dumb enough to fall for the same play twice.”
Being involved with Liberty had made him realize how complicated liking someone could be. There was no two ways about it—falling for Liberty had him dancing to her tune.
“Has he changed?”
“I don’t know. When he’s like this, he’s so charming and sweet. It’s hard to resist,” Poppy said.
Merle had liked Alistair when he first started dating Poppy. The man had been so in love with his cousin, or so it seemed, that of course there wasn’t anything to dislike. But that had changed after they’d been married and Alistair revealed he’d married Poppy for the tea recipes handed down to her from her grandmother.
Honestly, Merle didn’t like the dude at all anymore. But he loved Poppy and wanted her happy.
“Yeah, well, whatever happens, I’m here,” Merle said.
“Do you think he’s changed?”
“No clue, but you have,” Merle said. Realizing as he uttered the words that he had changed with Liberty too. Maybe it was time to start asking for more instead of just being available when she needed him.
“I have changed,” Poppy admitted. “He doesn’t know it.”
“Maybe it’s time you do. Maybe it’s time for you to be happy in the relationship, whatever that looks like, instead of just making him happy.”
Poppy dropped her head and he saw her blinking a lot so he knew she was trying not to cry. “Or ignore me. What do I know? I’m not even sure how to make this relationship with Liberty last.”
Poppy shook her head. “You know what you’re talking about. I know you’re right about me too. And if you want Liberty, then you’ll find a way to make her yours.”
Liberty finished demonstrating how to do a five-card spread. Meanwhile her mom was busy mixing some potions; they were a surprising hit.
There was something so familiar about this; it reminded Liberty of her childhood. Of all the times when she’d gone to craft shows on the weekends with her mom and helped out in the booth. It made her miss Nan, who would be reading palms or doing tarot cards while Mom sold her potions.
Liberty felt a wave of sadness. It wasn’t lost on her that they had already moved past Samhain, the night when the veil was thinnest between this world and the After. It was a season of endings.
Nan wasn’t going to be with them for that much longer.
In her head, she could hear all the sappy stuff that people said. Sure, she’d have the memories of Nan and all that Nan had taught her. But she wasn’t ready to let go of her grandmother. She never would be. She wished her Nan wouldn’t leave this world.
A child’s wish, when she was a woman and knew better. But she didn’t care if it was childish to wish that her grandmother would live forever.
The uncontrollable cocktail of emotions hit her all at once and roiled around inside of her, like that one time she’d mixed jack, wine and sambuca. Except this mixture was more potent with grief and anger and fear and love and all of the other messy emotions she hated to deal with. She preferred them in quick bursts—out and gone. That wasn’t happening this time.
She signaled to her mom that she needed a break. Liberty headed away from her and the booth and the festival that she’d been so excited about just a few hours earlier. She didn’t stop until she was in the copse of trees, finding a big sturdy tree with a huge trunk and sinking down next to it.
The pointed witch hat slid forward on her head and she didn’t bother righting it. She drew her knees under the full skirt of her black dress, letting herself feel like a kid again. The woods were her refuge.
So, she let her guard down and started to cry.
Leaves rustled around her and she lifted her bleary eyes, feeling the hat slip the rest of the way off her head as she spied Merle’s sneakers and the bottom of his legs in front of her.
“Stay or go?” His voice was a deep rumble. There was a note in it that made her stomach stop spinning.
“You can stay. But I’m not my best right now.”
He sat next to her, his back against the tree, his hip pressed against hers. She wiped her eyes and lifted her head to rest it on the thick trunk of the tree. The woods around her smelled earthy and rich like her favorite candle, and there was the slight trace of Merle’s aftershave in the mix.
He put his hand on his thigh, palm up, and she reached over, twining her fingers with his. He held her hand for a long while without saying anything. The thoughts and emotions that had been so overwhelming were still there, but he was anchoring her, and she let him.
She let her guard down and took the comfort and strength he was offering her in his grip.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“Sorry. I just finally let myself admit Nan’s not getting better,” she said.
He squeezed his fingers around hers. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
She tipped her head to the side until it rested on his shoulder and thought about all the things Nan had taught her about Samhain and about death. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know that Nan’s spirit would live on after her physical body was gone. Nan had prepared them, but that didn’t make it any easier.
“So...about your dad. John Jones,” he said.
She lifted her head and turned to face him.
“What?”
“I think you should contact him.”
Honestly, the way her emotions were at this moment she wasn’t sure if it was a good idea anymore. Her mom was going to talk to her this afternoon, so there potentially wouldn’t be a need for the info that Merle had gotten for her. She felt a thread of frustration that Merle was pushing this now, after seeing how conflicted she was. “That’s not for you to say.”
“I think it is—at least to share my opinion. I’m your boyfriend. What happens to you matters to me.”
Her boyfriend .
She had been thinking of them as a couple, but this was the first time he’d said it. “What does that mean, Merle?”
“The boyfriend bit?”
“No, nerd. The ‘what happens to me matters to you’ part,” she said.
She had never seen him so serious before. There was something on his face that she couldn’t read, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what he was thinking.
“I think you should resolve this with your mom. If you don’t, this is always going to be between you. And you started this search for your biological father... I know he means something to you.”
He had a point and she’d pretty much reached that conclusion on her own. But she hated that he knew it too. It made her feel weak, having someone know her almost as well as she knew herself. She just wasn’t happy doing what anyone told her, even if it was for her own good. “That’s not for you to say. Even if we are dating.”
“I know that, witch. When your emotions take over, you don’t always think first. I don’t want to see you make a mistake.”