“I needed to leave. Don’t you get it? I was drowning here. You think it’s healthy that I’m the only one you had?”
“No, I think that’s the way family is supposed to work, you idiot. Now I’m two heartbreaks away from completely losing my magic altogether. And I need it now more than ever.”
“God forbid you lose the thing that’s actually the most important to you.” He laughed derisively. “That’s what this is really all about, isn’t it? You’re pissed I left, but you’re even more pissed that you’re one step closer to losing the most precious thing you have because you’re so afraid of your goddamn curse coming true, and you love your magic more than you let yourself love people.”
“Fuck you,” Sadie spat, her fingertips growing warm, itching to release some of the anger flooding through her. The dishes rattled in the cupboard and the teakettle on the stove blew a jet of steam.
“There it is.” He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. Like he’d just been waiting for her to snap. A small smile played around his mouth, tugging at the corners. “Say whatever you want to me now. Get it all out. Feel however you want. But Gigi doesn’t want us arguing. So I’ll be as civil as possible until this is all over. And you will be too.”
“Did you happen to forget about our new little family secret we just learned? One of our lives is in the free and clear, and the other is doomed to God knows what. And how are we supposed to fix that? Huh? If we can’t even have a civil dinner together when Gigi is dying.”
“We’ll—” he started, but Sadie cut him off.
“I swear on all that’s holy, if you say, ‘cross that bridge when we come to it,’ I will lose my ever-loving mind.”
Seth actually laughed, and it stopped Sadie in her tracks.
“What,” she demanded.
“I almost forgot how annoying it was to have a twin.”
“Lucky you,” she said.
“Are you done yelling at me? Can we eat now?” he asked, not waiting for an answer, but pulling his plate toward him.
Something happened in those few moments of silence that followed. A sliver of peace returned to Sadie. Maybe it was finally telling him how she felt. Maybe it was Gigi’s biscuits at work. Either way, she hated the push and pull of the emotions eating at her. Each moment was different from the next. One second, she was calm and in control, and the next she wanted to scream.
“Nothing can ever go back the way it was,” she said.
“Would you honestly want it to?”
And she didn’t have an answer. So instead she asked, “Did you at least find what you were looking for? When you left?”
Seth looked at her thoughtfully but was silent as he began to clean his plate. Sadie followed suit, taking a bite of chicken. And every bite seemed to say that it was all going to be okay.
“I found something,” he said finally. “I’m just not sure exactly what it is.”
“Was it worth it?” she asked quietly, wondering if she really wanted to know the answer.
“As mad as you are, you know I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose,” he said pointedly, almost as a challenge, a reminder. “I do actually love you.”
“I know, but sometimes it’s nice to hear it.”
“Don’t get used to it.” And after a pause he added, “You always knew I was going to come back, right?”
“If I knew you were going to come back, I don’t think it would have broken my heart. When you’re as close as we are, and something comes that far out of left field, everything you thought you knew up until that point goes up in smoke. You start questioning everything. Thinking maybe you built it all up in your head.” She wondered if she was talking about her brother or Jake, or both.
“Shit, Sadie.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I just thought you knew. Or that you’d understand, at least.”
“I’m starting to,” she admitted.
“Look, you’ve always been the strong one. I admit that, but …”
“I’m not,” Sadie countered. “I feel like everything is going to crumble any second.”
“But you keep going. That’s what I mean. No matter what, you never give up. I respect the hell out of that.”
“Maybe it’s just stupidity,” she said, staring at the biscuit in her hand.
“It’s not.”
“If I’m strong at all, you know why I am. We’re only as strong as the people we love. And the ones that love us. Nothing else matters.”
“Even magic?” he asked archly, raising an eyebrow.
“Magic comes from family.”
“I know I said you don’t accept reality, and I meant it. But it’s also kind of a compliment, you know? Like the way you see the world is so forceful that reality has to fall in line or get the shit kicked out of it. I wish I had some of that.”
“You have more than you think.”
“This is the part where you apologize for saying I blame my problems on everyone else.”
Sadie narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he’d apologized just to get one in return, but he laughed.
“Jesus, Sade, it was a joke. Lighten up.” But there was an undercurrent to the way he said it, and she realized what it was in an instant.
“Sometimes it’s hard to own our shit,” she said slowly. “And I didn’t mean to generalize.” She chose her words carefully. “You don’t do it all the time. Just with certain things. But we all have our issues we’re working through, and more than anything else, I’m sorry that saying it that way hurt your feelings.”
Seth looked down at the table and then idly twirled the butter knife between his fingers, like he was doing a magic trick. He cleared his throat.
“Thanks.”
“Of course. We may fight like idiots, but I’d never, ever want to hurt you intentionally either. Irritate the crap out of you? Yeah.”
“Push my buttons?”
“Duh!” She laughed. “You were the one who taught it to me as an art form.”
“Look at us, apologizing and shit, like adults. Hey, maybe we’re gonna make it after all.”
“Of course, we are,” Sadie responded without hesitation. “And I really do think you should, you know, maybe try therapy. You obviously don’t have to talk about magic. But Seth, if you’re battling this—these demons and depression and anxiety—you need the tools to deal with it.”
“I’ll think about it,” he promised.
Seth left for a walk after they ate, stopping to say goodbye to Gigi while Sadie did the dishes. At least some things would never change.
“Are you two done acting like fools?” Gigi asked as Sadie sat on the couch next to her, where she was watching an ancient rerun of Bonanza.
“Probably not.” Sadie sighed. “But we’re going to try and be civil to each other only because we both love you so much.” She smiled tiredly.
“I know you’re not going to like what’s coming. You’ve never been one for change, sugar. But I believe in you. We’ll all get through this together. And I mean all of us,” she added sternly. “I know you’ve already forgiven that brother of yours, you’re just making him work for it now. And I don’t blame you for it. But don’t be too stubborn, like me. All it gets you is regret,” she said.
If she could have her way, Sadie would have woven a garland of four-leaf clovers and worn them around her neck. She would have swallowed essence of nightshade if only she could close off the world around her and sleep in a silence where bad news would knock but never get in. Part of her still wanted to wake up tomorrow and believe that this was all a lie. That she could go on with her routine as she had done for years. But life had gotten its roots into her and she was growing, one way or another. So instead of covering her ears with a pillow the way she wanted to, she nodded.
“I promise I’ll do my best.” She swallowed hard and pinched her eyes shut.
“That’s my girl,” Gigi smiled, taking Sadie’s hand in her own and squeezing it. “Now, there’s a mixing bowl in the cupboard above the microwave. Get it and sprinkle what’s in it around the perimeter of the house and garden,” Gigi said.
“Salt and pennyroyal oil,” Sadie said, and Gigi nodded.