“Mother!” Aunt Tava feigned shock. “Such language!”
“Get over here.” Gigi laughed reluctantly as she hugged her oldest daughter. “You didn’t need to come.”
“That’s just utter nonsense now, isn’t it, you precious little pup?” she asked in her high, girlish voice, speaking to Abby instead of her mother. “And speaking of nonsense!” She walked over to the fire, reached into her pocket, and threw something into the flames that turned them bright turquoise for a brief moment. A second later the scent of cedarwood curled in the air, and Sadie’s clothes were dry before she even realized she wasn’t shivering anymore.
“Ready for the chaos, my darling niece?” she asked with a grin. “And by the way, while I was on Main Street, window shopping at the antiques shop, I ran into the most delightful firefighter. Can you say yummy! I started chatting him up, and when he found out I was a Revelare, he said he knew you both, so I invited him to dinner.”
“You didn’t,” Sadie groaned.
Of course, she had. And there was no such thing as coincidences when it came to her family.
“Who on earth wouldn’t want to stare at that god of a man across the dinner table?” Aunt Tava demanded, as man crazy as ever. “And speaking of handsome men, you haven’t told me where that brother of yours is.”
“Probably off shaking hands and kissing babies,” Sadie muttered. But even as she said the words, she realized how different he was since he’d been back. Less charm, more solemnity. She wouldn’t go so far as to call it brooding, but he’d lost that happy-go-lucky edge he’d always carried around with him like a talisman.
“Oh pshaw, you still haven’t forgiven him for leaving yet? Dear God, if I’d done something like that, Florence would have celebrated my absence, and here you are whining that he’s back. But don’t you worry, your head and heart will be too full soon enough.”
“What does that mean?” Sadie demanded.
“Tava,” Gigi said warningly.
“Where’s that little firecracker Raquel?” Tava asked, ignoring them both. “Ah!” She held up a finger, and a moment later there was a knock at the door. “There she is.”
Raquel barged in just as she spoke.
“Tava!”
“There she is!” Tava’s tiered skirt rustled like whispered secrets as she hugged Raquel.
“I assume you’re the one responsible for the glitter-dusted note demanding my presence?” Raquel laughed. “It’s the last day before break, so I let the kids out after lunch. Now, what’s going on in this madhouse?”
“Oh, family reunion.” Tava shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, and a second later she burst out laughing. The air turned sweet like sparkle-dusted rainbow cotton candy, to match Tava’s tiered skirt. If Sadie stuck out her tongue, she swore she’d be able to taste the sugar granules.
“What!” Sadie demanded.
At the same time Gigi said, “I knew it. You little shit ass.”
“Don’t blame me!” Tava squealed.
“Who should I blame then?” Gigi insisted.
“I hate to state the obvious here,” came Seth’s voice from the doorway, making Sadie jump. “But I’d probably blame magic. I mean, isn’t that usually the explanation for things around here?” He smiled, and Sadie remembered one of the reasons she loved her stupid brother so much. No matter what was happening, no matter the nonsense or heartache or confusion, he always made everything better. Just by being there.
“My darling, handsome nephew!” Tava cried, practically cooing in delight.
“Aunt Tava. I’m never quite sure if you’re actually human or part fairy.” Seth hugged his aunt and kissed the top of her head. “Honestly, who knows with this family.” He hugged Gigi and kissed her next. As though he’d been gone weeks instead of hours. “Sister,” he said. She made a noise halfway between disgust and annoyance as he kissed the side of her forehead, though in reality she loved it. “Quel,” he added, slipping an arm around Raquel’s shoulders in a half hug but then leaving it there.
A knock on the front door interrupted Sadie’s thoughts, and her heart stuttered, wondering if it was already him. It was too early. Tava had said dinner. Her hands flew to smooth her hair, but then she heard the bright, shrill voice of her Aunt Kay. Instantly, she and Seth locked eyes in unspoken trepidation and amusement. The house’s lights dimmed, and even the fire died down, as though it was trying to hide.
“Um, helloooooo!” Aunt Kay called in annoyance. “Is there a reason this damn door is locked?” She rattled the handle violently until Sadie opened it. It hadn’t been locked—just the house’s way of playing its own prank. “Baby girl!” Aunt Kay cried. Her hands were full of gift bags and a potted ivy plant. She towered above Sadie, her long legs made longer by the over-the-knee boots she wore, with six-inch-high heels. Her hair was piled in a messy bun on top of her head, and her wrists jangled with what seemed like a whole jewelry store as she pulled Sadie into a bone-crushing hug, her cheek resting on top of Sadie’s head. When she finally pulled back, tears were streaming down her cheeks, and the ivy she was holding had grown by a foot. “My baby,” she whispered quietly, cupping Sadie’s cheek with the palm of her hand. Her acrylic nails were long and Ferrari red, and the kimono she wore swayed about her slender frame like a kite in the wind. She smelled like new shoes fresh out of the box, and the scent took over Tava’s sweet cotton candy scent.
“Mommy!” she called next. As she pushed through the front door, all the lights in the house flickered as though wincing at the high-pitched voice. “Mommy,” she said again as they entered the kitchen. She started crying in earnest when she saw Gigi. The grandfather clock went off again, but this time it sounded like a cry for help. If Tava was joyful pandemonium, Kay was pure chaos in the kind of way that left you breathless.
“Now, now,” Gigi said, trying and failing to hide her irritation. “No need to make such a big fuss.” She hugged her second-oldest daughter and patted her cheek before going back to food prepping. Because family meant food, there was simply no way around it. “You all scoot on out of here. You’re like a bunch of chickens with your heads cut off, and I know the yapping will never stop now.”
“What can I do?” Aunt Kay asked, hovering around the kitchen, trying to look helpful but really just attempting to steal the tomatoes that Gigi was cutting up.
“Stop that!” Gigi slapped her hand away.
“What beautiful sunflowers,” Sadie noted, nodding to the bouquet in the windowsill over the sink.
“Humph,” Gigi said, but there was a slight pink to her cheeks that made Sadie smile.
Though the house liked to tease her, Aunt Kay’s presence brightened the room. Her magic lay in making everyone around her feel loved. A back scratch from her nails felt better than a ninety-minute massage because it was infused with focused intention and love. A compliment from Kay made you believe it instead of brushing it off or awkwardly accepting it, as women were wont to do.
Tava’s magic was more mischievous. Sadie could see it floating around her in streams of rainbow glitter. It was the kind of magic that made you do things you normally wouldn’t, that made you feel like anything was possible. Very simply, it was magic of the imagination, the type that turned the ordinary into the extraordinary. A tent of blankets turned into a fairy den; a typical outfit suddenly gave you red-carpet confidence; and teas turned into curious elixirs that you would remember long after the cup was empty.
Sadie laughed, her heart bubbling in her chest like sweet soda water. The rain had stopped, and the afternoon sun was sliding through the windows, the golden light refracting against the water droplets left on the panes and casting little rainbows across the counter. Seth bumped her shoulder in a friendly way as he walked to the living room.
The day wore on, and they made up the guest room and blew up air mattresses.
“We’re going to need more coffee,” Gigi said as Tava poured the last cup.