Sadie made a small noise, thinking of her grandmother setting fire to the grounds. Of course she would.
“Now let’s go in. I’ve got chicken for Abby.”
Homemade dog food, another of Gigi’s specialties. Heaven forbid her Abby have anything as common as store-bought dog food.
“Okay, but just leave the piles. I’ll put them in bags later. What’s this?” she added when she spotted a can of paint and a drop cloth in the entryway.
“I’m going to touch up the baseboards. They’re unfit to be seen.” Seeing Sadie’s look, she said, “The moment I’m useless is the day I’d rather die.”
“Are we expecting company?” Sadie asked. It felt like Gigi was preparing for something.
“I’ve let this house fall into disrepair,” Gigi said, pouring boiling water over instant coffee as she turned the burner off on the chicken.
Sadie glanced around the immaculate kitchen and spotless floors but didn’t argue.
“Now, come out back and have a cigarette with me,” Gigi said.
“Oh, um, I forgot to tell you,” Sadie started to say, but it was too late. Gigi had opened the screen door, and Bambi started whining.
“What crock of crap do you think you’re cooking up?” Gigi demanded, staring at the dog and then at Sadie.
“You’re always taking in strays!” Sadie argued as she opened the gate and Bambi bounded out, gluing himself enthusiastically to her side.
Gigi laughed, lighting up one of her Virginia Slims 120’s and sinking back into her rocker. Abby, claws scrabbling on the deck, jumped up onto her lap trying to get away from Bambi.
“Alright, you little pissant,” Gigi said, her rumbling laugh softening the words. “Did I ever tell you about the chicken I adopted when I was a girl?”
Sadie shook her head, even though she’d heard the story a dozen times. She’d lie every time if it meant hearing Gigi’s stories told in that gravelly, bullfrog voice of hers. She listened raptly as Gigi told her about the chicken that waited for her after school every day and how her father had threatened to kill it for dinner. Gigi, in turn, had threatened to cook her father for dinner.
“Café made it through unscathed?” Sadie asked absentmindedly in the quiet that followed.
“Gail’s got it all under control. It’s a good thing you left when you did. Now you mind telling me what in God’s name happened?”
“‘Seven bad omens in a row.’”
“Well, crap. Rule number six.”
“I know.”
“The nightmare?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say Jake McNealy.”
“That little shit ass,” Gigi shook her head, though a small smile played about her mouth. “What’s he doing back in town?”
“I don’t plan on finding out.”
“You never could stay away from that boy.” Gigi’s deep laugh made the day that much brighter. “You and your mother. You know your momma was a rounder. Round heels. Round as a moon cake. She’d fall back for anything or anybody.”
Sadie stilled. Gigi rarely, if ever, spoke about her mother. And she didn’t relish the implication that she was like her in any way. Her mother had left. Sadie never would.
“One time I thought someone was stealing meat from our freezer in the garage,” Gigi continued. “I went out there every day for a week, and the stock was dwindling. So finally, I stayed up one night with a shotgun to catch whoever it was. And it was your mother. There was a naval ship docked a few towns over, and she was taking all the meat to them as payment for passage onto the ship.” Gigi shook her head.
“What do I do?” Sadie asked, thinking about the hundreds of times she’d asked Gigi that same question during their back-porch talks.
“One thing your heart’s never been is fickle,” her grandmother said with a pointed look, which was about as close to a warning as she was willing to give. “Rule number twelve.”
“‘Curses are for keeps, so make sure they’re worth it,’” Sadie quoted. “And it has been. Worth it, I mean.” She thought of the years she’d spent trying to find a loophole in her curse. “But sometimes I wish … I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ve got two heartbreaks left, and I’m not wasting another one on Jacob McNealy.”
“We’ll see about that.” Gigi’s rumbling laugh ended in a cough. “Your problem is you try to keep everyone at arm’s length. You’re so afraid to lean on someone because it means there’s trust there. And if you trust, it hurts worse when they leave.”
“Seth used to say I’m too nice because I want people to like me,” she argued.
“There’s a difference between needing and wanting. You use that sharp tongue of yours as a shield, and you use those capable hands to soothe the wounds.”
Sadie leaned back against the porch rail and stretched her legs out. Sitting out here with Gigi was always her favorite part of the day, but she didn’t like the razor-edged words that were burrowing under her skin. They felt like a mirror she didn’t want to look into.
“I don’t need anybody anyway,” she answered. “I have you and Raquel.”
“And your brother.”
“Really?” Sadie asked, looking around in mock earnestness. “Because I don’t happen to see the shithead here.”
“Just because he’s not here doesn’t mean he’s gone,” Gigi countered.
“Gone is gone,” Sadie said quietly. She wanted to be so mad at him that she didn’t care he’d left. She wanted to be rid of any last shred of hope. Because the hope was what hurt so much.
“Listen, sugar,” Gigi said, clearing her throat. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Sadie’s eyes snapped open, and she leaned forward, not liking the tone in her grandmother’s voice.
“I want to start by saying I’ve had awhile to come to terms with this, and I know in time you will too,” she started, and Sadie’s whole body went numb. There was a pressure in her ears that made everything muted.
“It’s stage four,” Gigi continued, and Sadie’s heart constricted. “I’m an old broad—I’ve lived a long time. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” Her tone was sure as summer rain as Sadie’s world started falling apart.
She didn’t move. Couldn’t.
The dirty C word.
Cancer.
She stared at Gigi as a fire raged through her veins.
“Magic,” she croaked out.
“Honey, magic can’t cure cancer. If it could, I’d be a saint by now, and we both know I’m rotten to the core.”
“You’re not,” Sadie said, shaking her head like a buttercup shuddering in a gale. Her eyes burned with their ache to cry. But if she started, she might not stop. And she refused to break down in front of Gigi. “Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath through her nose. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through this. Everything will be fine.”
“No, toot, it won’t be. Not for a while, at least. And there are things I need to tell you. Traditions you’ll have to take over. Legacies you should know about. You and your brother,” she started.
“No,” Sadie shook her head frantically. “No, I’m not listening to this. How can you be so calm? Why have you already given up?” Her voice was frantic. This couldn’t be real. She wouldn’t let it be. She tried folding the thoughts in half, but they wouldn’t budge. They were wedged in concrete. Gigi was her world. And her world was unraveling.
“Sugar,” Gigi said, reaching out a hand to her granddaughter. “I know this is hard. I know it’s turning your world upside down. I’m calm because I’ve been expecting something like this for a long time. I’m just surprised it didn’t come sooner.”
Sadie stared at Gigi’s hand on hers, the age spots and wrinkles in stark contrast to her own smooth skin, and jumped to her feet.
“I took on this curse for my magic. The least it can do is be useful to fix this. I’ll find a way. I will,” Sadie said, her hands clenched into fists at her side.
And before Gigi could say anything else, Sadie left, the pit in her stomach growing heavier with every footstep.
She stomped through the garden and into the woods.
Gigi couldn’t die. She wouldn’t allow it. Seth had already left. And if Gigi—but no, she wouldn’t.