“Okay,” he said, looking down.
Rowan stood and left the room, his face sad. As soon as he was gone, Lily felt empty. She wanted to call him back, but she knew if she did she’d have to open that dark box in the corner of her mind and show him what had happened in the oubliette. She couldn’t share that with him. It would change the way he felt about her. There was only one person Lily was certain wouldn’t judge her. Lily momentarily dropped her guard, just to see if Lillian was there.
When I came back from the cinder world I shut Rowan out because I couldn’t tell him what I’d done, or what had been done to me. You and I are the only ones who can really understand each other. Come back, Lily. You need me as much as I need you.
No, I don’t. Go away, Lillian. I hate you.
As I hate myself—but look inside, Lily. You hate yourself, too.
*
“Keep stirring,” Rowan said.
“But my arm’s tired,” Lily whined. She propped up her stirring arm with her other hand and sighed dramatically. “And the fireplace is so hot.”
“I know,” he said without a shred of pity. “Takes a lot of work to make that salve for your skin, doesn’t it? Maybe from now on you’ll remember that before you go running down the hallway when I tell you not to.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lily groused. She peeked into the bubbling cauldron and wrinkled her nose at the heady fumes. “I don’t think the punishment fits the crime.” She looked up at Rowan and tried to coax a smile out of him. She knew he was still upset that she wouldn’t share memories from the oubliette with him that morning, and she’d spent the rest of the day trying to thaw the frost between them.
“The punishment definitely fits the crime,” he said, finally giving her that smile she was after. “Keep stirring. I’ll go see how Samantha’s doing with dinner.”
“Uh-oh,” Lily said, looking across the living room and into the kitchen. “You left her alone in there? With the stove on?”
“She can handle it,” he replied calmly. A clank, a hiss, and a cuss came from the kitchen. “And that would be her handling it without an oven mitt. I’ll be back.” Rowan let his fingers trail across the sliver of exposed skin between Lily’s T-shirt and the waistband of her jeans before darting off to rescue her befuddled mother.
Lily watched his lithe frame disappear into the kitchen and heard his deep voice rumbling under her mother’s nervous tittering and leaned toward it. Wherever Rowan went was where Lily wanted to be.
“Keep stirring, lover girl,” Juliet taunted from the sofa. She put down her magazine and tucked her bare feet under her.
“You don’t get to fill in as taskmaster just because he’s gone,” Lily said, making a childish face at her sister, but picking up her stirring speed nonetheless.
What’s going on with you two, Lily?
It’s complicated, Jules.
I’ll bet. Relationships are hard enough without adding the whole “he’s from one world, I’m from another” thing. Literally, in your case.
You’d think mindspeak would make it easier, but it doesn’t.
The house phone rang and Juliet reached over her shoulder to pick up the receiver on the coffee table.
“Proctor residence. Hello, Dr. Rosenthal,” Juliet said, straightening her posture when she heard the voice of the superintendent of the Salem school system.
Lily tried to get closer to her sister and listen in on the conversation, but she was stuck at arm’s length, stirring the cauldron.
“Yes, Lily’s feeling much better,” Juliet said, waving Lily away. “They say she’s practically cured. Can you believe it? She’s almost completely over her allergies.” There was another long, agonizing pause. “Well, yes, I think she would be able to go back to school. Oh, yes, of course. Everyone wants Lily to graduate on time. Yes. Yes, I know, she’s always been at the top of her class and she shouldn’t have any problem making up for lost time.”