Chapter Twenty-Four #3
I didn’t know how to respond. Rowena was staring at me, my mother was staring at me, and I could feel the walls of the café closing in like a prison. A cage.
The cozy fireplace suddenly felt like a furnace, and the clammy beginnings of sweat stuck to my neck.
I needed some air.
“I…” My gaze drifted to Rowena, then over to my mother. I let go of Rowena’s hand. “I need a moment.”
I abruptly stood up, my chair screeching on the hardwood, and bolted out of the café and into the back garden.
It was forty-five degrees outside and I wasn’t wearing my cloak, yet the cold-but-not-quite-unbearable night air felt like salvation. I took long, deep breaths, noticing the tiny, barely visible trails of steam from my exhales drifting off into the darkness.
The Lone Wolf Café’s back porch was small, with only two old wrought-iron chairs and a round table barely large enough for two cups of tea, let alone my baked goods. But it was quiet. Peaceful. And most importantly, there wasn’t anyone else around.
It gave me time to think. Because my overwhelmed mind was on the verge of breaking, and I couldn’t handle the rest of the world right now.
I took a seat on one of the chairs, the thick metal cold as ice under my thighs. I folded my hands in my lap, gazed off into the pitch-black forest in the distance, and processed the new bits of information one by one.
I succeeded in calming down Big Red.
I don’t have to leave Wisteria Grove.
Big Red is actually my long-lost mother.
My mother isn’t dead.
My mother is alive.
And she’s been only a few dozen miles away.
For the past fifteen years.
It still didn’t feel real. I feared it wouldn’t for a long time.
After a few minutes to cool off and process the events of the night, the chilly weather no longer felt refreshing. I wrapped my arms tightly across my chest as I began to shiver.
I thought about my werewolf form, and how comfortable I would be enjoying the warmth of my thick fur coat.
Then I realized – I could shift if I wanted to.
My identity wasn’t a secret anymore. Even if another witch saw me in my wolf form, I doubted they’d come after me.
After all, I’d just saved Wisteria Grove from the full moon frenzy.
But I decided that, as cold and uncomfortable as I was, my new reality was best dealt with in my human form.
Werewolves had a one-track mind, always concentrating on the present, never letting outside forces interfere with their focus.
In my werewolf form, I could retreat into my feral instincts, curl up in a tight ball on the front porch, and snooze the worries of the world away.
But I knew that wasn’t productive. I needed to process this.
The sooner the better.
No matter how much it hurt.
The squeaky metal creak of the back door opening snapped me out of my thoughts.
I turned my head, and Rowena offered me a sad, sympathetic smile as she stood in the doorway. She raised her left hand, which contained my brown cloak, and held it out like a peace offering.
A sudden gust of wind caused me to shiver, and I eagerly took the cloak from Rowena and wrapped it around my shoulders.
I was so grateful for her.
Rowena lowered herself into the empty chair next to me, her own cloak wrapped tightly across the front of her chest. She sat quietly for a few moments, as if assessing the situation. As if giving me time to think.
But my frazzled mind couldn’t stand the silence.
“I’m a terrible daughter, aren’t I?” I blurted out. It was the one question that had been tearing me apart inside.
Rowena startled, as if confused by the question. “What?”
“I should be happy that my mother is alive,” I continued.
I could feel a wave of sadness choking up my throat again, but this time I didn’t fight it.
Tonight was going to be emotional whether I liked it or not.
“I should be so grateful to have her back. But I’m not.
I’m upset, and angry, and confused and… well, a lot of other things.
Does that make me a bad daughter? I should be–”
“Nettie.”
I snapped my mouth shut as tears slipped down my face, leaving chilly trails across my cheeks.
“No. You’re not a terrible daughter. It’s perfectly normal to be feeling all of these emotions right now.”
I cocked my head. “It is?”
“Yes,” Rowena replied. She offered me her hand, and I responded by wrapping my arms around her and nuzzling my face into her collarbone.
“You’re overwhelmed, Nettie,” she continued. “And in shock. All perfectly normal feelings when something like this happens.”
“But… it’s not just shock. I feel angry. I mean… she left us! My mother abandoned us for fifteen years! How could a mother do such a thing to her own children!?”
Rowena let out a long, deep sigh, rubbing my shoulder as my tears dampened her chest. “It’s…
complicated, Nettie. The world usually is.
Your mother shouldn’t have abandoned you and your sisters, that part is true.
But she didn’t do it out of neglect or malice.
From what she told us, it sounds like she was a very sick, scared person who didn’t have a good solution to her issues.
That tends to make these decisions difficult. ”
I nuzzled further into her chest, taking deep breaths as my tears dried and I pondered her words.
“I understand that part. It’s just…” I continued after a few minutes of silence. “My father and the other werewolves always preached forgiveness, and letting the past stay in the past. But… I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can forgive her. Gods, I feel like a horrible person…”
“Nettie, sweetheart...” Rowena rubbed my shoulder. “You don’t have to do anything. It’s up to you whether or not you want to forgive your mother. But at the same time… I think you’re looking at forgiveness all wrong.”
I ran my white shirt sleeve across my crusty, damp cheeks. “What do you mean?”
“Well… no offense, but I think your father is wrong. Forgiveness isn’t about forgetting the past. It isn’t about throwing away what caused you pain and forgetting it ever existed.
If you want to forgive your mother, you can still acknowledge that what she did hurt you.
You can confront the past instead of locking it away.
Together, you and your mother can analyze it, process it, learn from it.
Then, once you’re truly ready to move on, you can. ”
I remained quiet, my father and Rowena’s contradicting definitions swimming in my mind as I inhaled Rowena’s lavender perfume.
My father had always been a kind, compassionate, caring parent, especially for one raising three daughters alone. But his beliefs were deeply rooted in the traditional ways of the werewolves, which often involved putting the well-being of the pack above the well-being of individuals.
Growing up, I had always been expected to sacrifice for the greater good.
Most notably, I had given up much of my own childhood to raise my two younger sisters.
I loved them dearly: they were my whole world, and I was so happy with the near-adults they’d grown into.
I would never regret it, but there was no denying that it had an impact on my own autonomy.
Living in Wisteria Grove was the first time I’d been independent.
It introduced me to new ideas, new experiences, new ways of life.
And it made me realize the werewolves weren’t always right about everything.
A few weeks earlier, I might have dismissed Rowena’s thoughts on forgiveness as preposterous. But now, I was immensely grateful for them.
I was grateful for her .
“You know…” Rowena continued. “There’s an empath up near Bangor who works as a healer. Not of the body, but of the mind. I think humans call them ‘therapists’. She could probably help you and your mother.”
I nodded, a small, hopeful smile slipping onto my face despite my tears. “I would like that. A lot.”
Rowena gave my shoulder a firm, final rub.
“Well, my little wolf, it’s getting late, and it’s quite cold outside.
I’m exhausted, and I’m sure you and your mother are, too.
” Rowena paused to let out a yawn, further emphasizing her point.
“I say we all return to the cottages and get some rest. These things will be better addressed in the morning.”
I nodded, lifting my head from Rowena’s chest. “I agree.”
“Then let’s head back inside and fetch your mother,” Rowena declared, rising from the chair as a stray nighttime breeze whipped her black cloak. “She’s worried about you, you know.”
I nodded but didn’t respond.
“And she wanted me to tell you she loves you.”
I still didn’t respond, but Rowena’s words struck my heart like a lightning bolt, nearly making my clutch my chest.
Of course she loved me. I was her daughter.
And I loved her.
I just hoped that, even after fifteen years apart, she and I could heal from this.
That my whole family could.
The entire walk back to the cottages, I studied my mother’s dark figure as she walked ahead of Rowena and I.
She was quiet, with her head down and her hands pressed against her sides.
Her wavy red hair was even longer than mine was, just barely brushing her waist, and the ends were ragged and split.
She’d borrowed a sage-green cape from Rowena, and it, plus her similarly colored dress, billowed softly in the breeze as she walked.
As I lolled behind her, my hand discreetly slipped in Rowena’s, it still didn’t seem real.
I kept blinking my eyes, wondering if I’d startle awake on the hardwood floor of my cottage.
Or even back in my bed at Hollenboro, across the room from my sisters’ bunks, with moonlight streaming in through the window that separated us.
My mother’s cape caught the breeze again, and as it rippled and swayed, I couldn’t help but think how similar it looked to a ghost.
Of course, ghosts and spirits existed all around us, but my only experience with the immortal beings was back on Hollenboro during Halloween.
Being on a small island, supplies for costumes were limited, and there were many seasons where we simply cut holes in white bedsheets and ran around the village shouting “ Boo !” at anyone that passed.
Even among magical beings, ghosts always seemed so ethereal. Otherworldly. Which was exactly how I felt about my mother at the moment. As if she were a spirit that had come back from the dead.
Then a flash of white billowed a few dozen feet away, and I sprang backwards, clutching Rowena’s hand.
“Ghost!” I pointed. The flowing white figure had disappeared behind one of the cottages. The way the full moon had glinted on its amorphous frame made it seem even more eerie.
Gods, it was as if my thoughts had come to life. Am I seeing things? Am I going insane?
Rowena is right. I really do need some sleep…
To my surprise, Rowena didn’t flinch or recoil at my reaction. Instead, she turned her head back, gave me a funny look, and laughed.
“Nettie, you silly little wolf,” Rowena scoffed, pointing toward the cottage where the ghost had disappeared. “That’s no ghost. It’s a child in costume.”
Wait, what?
I blinked, looking back over at the cottage.
From around the corner, two more children appeared, happily skipping down the dirt path that swirled around the homes.
One was dressed as a pirate, their fake gold jewelry catching the light of the full moon, and the other was dressed as a dragon, their plush, spiked tail dragging on the ground as they moved.
They both carried plastic pumpkin buckets, and a few feet behind them was a witch couple, happily dressed in their full regalia.
“Wait…” I paused as the family walked past us. “Are they… trick or treating?”
“It looks like quite a few families are.” Rowena pointed at another group of costume-clad children, happily bolting down one of the pathways while their joyous shrieks filled the air.
“But…”
“I mean, it makes sense,” Rowena continued. “Your mother is no longer frenzied, which means the other werewolves can’t get through the barrier. For the first time in a long time, Wisteria Grove is safe during a full moon.”
For the first time in a long time . Those words hung heavy on my heart. I peered up ahead at my mother, who was watching the children with a small, sad smile on her face.
She had fled Hollenboro, making her way back to the Mount Desert Island pack, when I was six years old. Meaning she had lived here, unable to control her empath powers and her shifting, for fifteen years.
Fifteen long years, where the witches of Wisteria Grove locked down their homes every full moon. Fifteen years of living in fear.
If only my mother had gotten the help she needed.
“I wonder if the other witches are setting up the altar at the town square,” Rowena pondered, peering up at the night sky and the full moon that glowed as bright as faerie fire. “It is a beautiful night for a celebration.”
I smiled, watching more children weave around the cottages in their costumes, eager to hoard as much candy as possible.
That was when it truly occurred to me what I had done. Because of my actions, Big Red was no longer terrorizing the town. And now, I could get my mother help. I could get both of us help.
And Wisteria Grove would never have to worry about the werewolf frenzy again. They’d be safe inside their wards, and the local pack could frolic and run and hunt on the full moon without fear of harming them.
Maybe this could be the beginning of a better relationship between the werewolves and the witches. Having the two communities see each other as allies instead of enemies.
“It’s a beautiful sight,” I acknowledged, and Rowena nodded eagerly.
So did my mother.
I’d felt so many mixed emotions that night. But watching the children run around, trick or treating without fear, I felt nothing but pure joy.
We had done it.
We had saved Wisteria Grove.