34. The House is Sad
Chapter 34
The House is Sad
G rief rolls off my old home in waves. The day may be sunny, but the house is gray and clouded. Makes sense though, considering how much Mom loved this place.
I walk up the stone pathway to the tiny porch, the dark wood double-door entrance. I try my key in the fancy, old-as-hell lock and it opens.
Huh. Guess she didn’t change the locks. Maybe it was too much effort.
I step lightly into the foyer and my heart sinks into my toes. Laura is in mourning, but the ache in the walls comes from the home itself.
I lay a hand on the faded wallpaper. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re talking to yourself now?” Laura asks from where she was apparently watching me at the top of the stairs. She’s in one of the retro sleeping gowns she adores. It’s a lacy, long-sleeved, floor-length thing—absolutely Scarlett O’Hara worthy.
I attempt to smile at her. “The house is sad. Don’t you feel it?”
She wrinkles her perfect nose at me, blonde waves tumbling over her face in effortless Hollywood glamour.
“Anyway.” I drop my purse on the floor. “You have a new roommate.”
Her gaze drops to my purse, liquid-gold eyes squinting. “Please tell me you’re trying to buy my affection with a puppy.”
Shit, that would’ve been a good idea. I could’ve at least brought that animal skull.
“Nope.” I shrug. “Just me. If you’ll have me.”
I’d leave if she insisted. I’d put up a damn good fight first, but in the end, this was always more her home than mine. And I’ve learned from Noah that I can’t force anything. If she lets me stay, it’s proof that she’s at least semi-willing to repair this rift between us. If not? I’ll cross that bridge if I come to it.
She stares at me. Gaze flicking between my purse and my face. Despite the urge to yell “come on, sis,” I keep my mouth shut and wait.
Still, though. Come on, sis.
Her mouth opens. Shuts. Opens. “Fine.”
I sigh with relief. It’s not the open arms I would’ve loved, but it’s an inch. And you can bet your ass I’m gonna run a mile with it.
“Good, because I already told Grandma to send my stuff back.”
She scowls. “What if I’d said no?”
I smile, piling my auburn hair on top of my head with a big, black scrunchie off my wrist. “We would’ve had a very awkward encounter.”
“Yeah, because this is such a lovely encounter we’re having already.” She huffs, brushing an invisible piece of lint off her gown. “I’ll be going back to bed now.”
“Sounds good, sis. I’ll have lunch ready in a little bit!” Am I being obnoxious on purpose? Yep. But that’s how we get back to normal. Maybe. Hopefully.
With a roll of her eyes, she disappears back upstairs and it’s just me and the house. Me and the sentient house. Totally normal.
The house itself is as chaotic as my thoughts. Magazines, mail, blankets, shoes, and all manner of other things are strewn about in a ridiculous mess. Serious work needs to be done here and I know exactly how to do it.
Purgomundus Purus . My first spell—and the only reason my apartment didn’t look like hell itself. Should I ask Laura if she wants to participate? Yes, she did sweep off to her room with a dramatic flourish and Lord knows she’d hate me for ruining a perfect exit, but I need to involve her in my magic. She wants to learn, she needs to learn, and that’s only going to happen if I start actively reminding myself to bring her in. Even with a simple household cleaning spell.
Do I really view this spell as simple now? It wasn’t long ago that I found pride in moving a single speck of dust, let alone cleaning an entire house. Now I can levitate myself and others. I’ve come further than I give myself credit for.
I’m going to be subtle. I can be subtle.
“Oh, look at all this mess! Luckily for me I know a cleaning spell! Guess I should start using magic now!”
Nailed it. The painting next to me totally didn’t rattle with the volume of my voice. I am the picture of subtle.
Laura’s gown is practically silent as she glides down the stairs after a few painstakingly long seconds. She stands there, watching me with her big eyes. She’s like a woodland creature, all innocent and wide-eyed.
“Purgomundus Purus,” I say, over-enunciating each syllable. I want her to hear me. With an airy wave, the dirt and dust disappears. We’re still going to have to organize the items themselves, but a big chunk of the work has been lifted.
A slight gasp turns my gaze. Laura stands in awe at the literal magic performed in front of her.
“I was the same way the first time I saw that done.” I don’t mention that I did it myself the first time. Maybe I should bring her to the shop soon and give her Household Spells for Beginners .
Her bottom lip trembles slightly in a completely un-Laura way. Laura doesn’t cry, Laura is sunshine, rainbows, and sass. Never sad. And in the same instant, she’s giving me a blinding smile. It’s a mask, a fake. Even after this rift, I know the difference between her real and fake smiles. “Cool! Look at you go, Hazel.”
Oof . “I learned it from a beginner’s spellbook in the shop, would you like a copy?”
“Maybe later.” She flips her curls over her shoulder. “I’m going out tonight, by the way, if you want to have Noah over and bang his brains out.”
Whatever joy I had clung to empties out of me. My face falls, and it takes everything in me not to collapse on the floor. The ache in my chest is that all-encompassing. The next breath is gasping, a desperate plea for air.
“Wait—what’s wrong?” Her bitchy mask slips for a moment. “Is he okay?”
Yeah, he’s fine. He just hates me. All good. “I’m not sure he’ll ever forgive me.”
“Oh,” she giggles. “Is that all?”
I huff in reply, wrapping my arms around myself protectively.
She smiles—a real, genuine Laura smile—and steps closer. “He’ll forgive you, Hazel. You forget, but I was there when you two first locked eyes on each other. He was in love with you the moment he saw you. He may be hurt—hell, his pride may be wounded. But he’ll come back. Plus, he’s a guy. If he takes too long, go over to his place in sexy lingerie and he won’t even remember why he’s upset.”
I chuckle despite the ache. “I think it may be beyond lingerie.”
“Well, then you’re on your own.” She strides into the kitchen with a whip of her hair.