My confusion must show on my face, because she elaborates.
“Help out,” she says. “Do you cook? We could make something together. Something they could freeze. We, my mom and I, we did that when my uncle passed away last year. I can get some recipes from her. You could come over, or I could come back here, or—”
I pat Chelsea’s knee. “Sure, that sounds … nice.”
“Yeah?” Chelsea’s eyes widen.
“Yeah,” I say. “This is all new to me.”
Chelsea nods. “I’ll get your number from Henry.”
I manage a slight smile and place my hand in Henry’s. The car leaves us standing on the sidewalk. If the Afrit took my mother away, is that what I’d be left with? A freezer of baked ziti, banana bread, and enchiladas?
*
Using my keys, Henry unlocks the front door of my house. The noise draws my mother’s attention. From upstairs, she calls down in a frantic voice, “I was about to use my locator spell to find you.”
She pauses on the landing. “Oh, Henry, I didn’t know you were here. It’s just … it’s only you two, right?”
Henry nods. “Just us.”
Relieved, my mother continues down the stairs while I work my way up. We meet halfway, and I hug her, hard. She must feel me trembling because she says, “Azra, honey, what’s wrong? What happened? Where’s Nate? Did he take you both home?”
My eyes are so full of tears that I miss the next step. “I can’t, Mom. Not now.”
“But honey, tell me—”
Henry clears his throat. “If it’s all right, Mrs. Nadira, I can explain. Okay, Azra?”
Whether they see me nod my head in response or not doesn’t matter. I keep going, heading for my room. I hear Henry say “accident” and then “horses” and “Nate” and shut my door to the rest.
I don’t want to hear it again. The younger parking lot attendants found the stash of warm beer and filled their bellies. They wandered away from the bonfire and started messing with the horses at the farm near the entrance to the beach. One of the preteen boys crawled through the wooden post-and-rail fence and opened first the barn door and then the fence gate. Chasing the horses, they pushed the scared animals into the dark street just as Nate’s parents were coming around the bend.
Yanking my down comforter over my bare legs, I inhale. The lilacs are strong tonight. The flowers should be long gone, their season usually confined to the spring. But they’re my favorite. My mother’s magic keeps the blooms lasting all summer so I can fall asleep breathing in the familiar scent, the scent I associate with the comfort and safety of home.
I inhale over and over again. But the increasingly deep and long breaths I take bring only the strong, fruity fragrance. This day that has stripped so much from me takes one more thing.
35
The barking dog ruins my plan to sleep through the night. For which I am grateful. My dreams quickly morphed into nightmares that only retreated with my waking up. Before I fell asleep I would have said nothing could be worse than reality, but my subconscious mind combined with Nate’s grieving residual anima had other ideas.
I tug on my comforter, but it doesn’t budge. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see what’s holding it up. Or down.
Curled like a cat at the foot of my bed is Henry. Even tucked as compactly as he is with his chin and knees greeting each other at his belly button, he’s still too tall to fit horizontally across the full-size mattress. The sight of him makes me want to laugh as much as cry. I’m betting it wasn’t all that difficult for him to convince my mother to allow him to stay with me. Though he’ll be sore tomorrow if he sleeps the entire night in this position, I know he won’t say a word. I don’t deserve him. If I tell him about Jenny, that likely won’t be a problem. How could he ever forgive me? But can I really not tell him? Can I really keep this a secret from him?
Yes, I can. And I will. And this, above all else, lets me know I really have become a Jinn.
Unable to look at the framed photo of me, Jenny, and Laila, I place it facedown on my nightstand. I ease out of bed and fold my end of the blanket over Henry. My bonfire clothes smell faintly of smoke. I check to make sure Henry’s asleep before I change into jeans and a light sweater.
It’s very late, or really early, depending on how you look at it. Though my stomach growls, I feel guilty for thinking about something as trivial as food. It seems a betrayal to Nate to think anything but sad thoughts. To think of anything but granting his wish. I’m fortunate that I can do more to help Nate and his family than bake a crumb cake.
I lift the cantamen and a notebook off my desk. My bedroom door squeaks as I open it, but Henry remains in his little ball. I slip through and gently close the door behind me. Across the hall, my mother’s bedroom door stands wide open. I start down the stairs and catch a few words spoken in her hushed voice. Light from the kitchen filters into the living room.
I lower myself onto a step and crouch behind the railing. It’s a familiar stakeout position. Eavesdropping on my mother and one of her Zar sisters, usually Lalla Sam, who’d apport here for late-night gossiping was a staple of my childhood. The railing did a better job of concealing me back then.
“Maybe the Nadiras are cursed,” Samara says.
“Sam, that’s not helping,” my mother says.
“Well, really, Kalyssa, who has this much bad luck?”
My mother sighs. “That poor boy, that poor family.”