“You’ll freeze to death out there,” Sadie said, and then stopped in horror.
“Might be.” Gigi smiled. “I’ll risk it.” Her voice was scratchy, and Sadie had an instant urge to record everything she said so she could have it forever. Why hadn’t she ever been better about taking photos and videos? Why hadn’t she journaled all of Gigi’s stories, recorded all her funny sayings and typed out recipes so she’d never forget them?
Seth scooped Gigi up and placed her gently in her chair outside. Sadie draped a wool blanket around her shoulders and put Seth’s slouchy beanie on her head. Abby tried to jump up on her lap, but her barrel chest and fat tummy wouldn’t let her get that high.
“You look like a fashion plate,” Sadie told her, and Gigi laughed weakly before grimacing in pain. Sadie lit her cigarette for her. Gigi’s eyes closed as she inhaled. Anne joined them and lit her own.
“I’ve been smoking since I was thirteen,” she said, her voice thin and weak. “Your grandfather was older than me, and all his friends smoked. The first time I had one I had to rush outside so I could throw up in the bushes. Did that every time I smoked for the first six months. But eventually it went away. Should have known they’d kill me one day.”
“Your cancer is in your back and stomach, Gigi,” Sadie said, trying to be consoling.
“Potato potahto,” Gigi coughed. “That’s all I can take.” She stubbed the cigarette out having only taken three puffs. By the time she was back on the couch, she was shivering. Bambi stood sentinel beside her. Uncle Brian built up the fire, and Sadie layered blankets over her, but ten minutes later she was sweltering and babbling. She tried to push herself up off the couch, but Seth rushed over.
“What is it? What do you need?”
“Vegas. Have to go to Vegas. Have to pack,” she babbled.
“Mom, you’re not going to Vegas,” Uncle Brian said in a stern voice. “Do you know where you are?”
“I have to get to Vegas.” Her voice was getting more agitated as she tried to push herself off the couch.
“Listen, Gigi, you stay here. I’ll go get your suitcase. Don’t worry—we’ll get you all packed,” Seth assured her. But of course, he didn’t move.
“Okay.” Gigi nodded and settled back into the couch. She closed her eyes, and her breathing slowed, her chest falling flat. Seconds passed before it rose again. Seconds that lasted an eternity. She slept fitfully for an hour. At times Seth and Uncle Brian would have to restrain her arms while she tried to fight them off, until finally her breathing grew more rapid, and she opened her eyes. When they landed on Sadie, they cleared fully.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she breathed.
Sadie forced a smile, unable to speak even if she could find words.
“Now you listen to me, all of you,” she croaked. “There’s to be no funeral. If you do, I’ll come back and haunt you from beyond, you hear me? I’ve detailed what I want done,” she wheezed. “Already paid for cremation service. Sadie, under my bed there’s a green metal file box. You’ll find everything you need to know in there. There’s a notebook with all the ailments of folks around town, and what they need. The recipes and spells too. You’ll need to take that over.”
“We’ll do whatever you want,” Sadie told her.
“Take my hands,” Gigi demanded. “I’m too damn weak to reach out for you.” The twins took her hands. “My curse,” she started, but her eyes filmed over, turning distant again. Her next words floated softly in the air between them, clinging to their skin like confectioners’ sugar. “Part of my curse was that I would drive my own daughter away. It was my punishment for what I’d done, taking justice into my own hands. The rules of magic are clear on that, and it nearly destroyed me. But then it turned out to be my biggest blessing. Because I got to raise the two of you. You were both born with magic in your veins and a knowing in your souls. When the fire of ancient wisdom burns in you, you will know that it’s me there with you, urging you on.”
When her eyes closed, they didn’t open again, but her labored breathing continued for hours. Sadie took Gigi’s pulse religiously, her own heart beating wildly when she could barely feel her grandmother’s. Her body temperature dropped, and the skin on her hands turned a mottled purple.
“It’s almost time,” Seth whispered.
But Gigi kept hanging on, her breathing interrupted by gasping until there was a rattle in her chest that tore Sadie’s heart out. Her grandmother’s spirit had already gone on, she knew, but her body remained, unwilling to relinquish its hold, as stubborn in death as in life. Her heart kept pumping, though slower and slower still. And so finally, moved by some calling within her, Sadie smoothed her grandmother’s hair and folded her hands on her chest. Getting on her knees, she placed her hands on Gigi’s shoulders.
“It’s okay,” she whispered to her grandmother. “You can let go.” She murmured the twenty-third psalm, and by the time she’d spoken the last verse, “And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever,” Gigi took her last, shuddering breath.
At the same moment, two hummingbirds flew in through the open window and performed an intricate dance over Gigi’s body before flying away.
And now, there were thirty days until they had to satisfy the balance of magic, or one of them would pay with their lives.
Harvest Soap for Luck
Ingredients
unscented castile soap
vitamin E oil
clear cold-pressed Mexican vanilla
Essential oils
clove
cinnamon
orange
lemon
Directions
1.?In a 16-oz. glass pump bottle, combine 2 T. castile soap, a squirt of vitamin E oil, and a splash of the Mexican vanilla.
2.?Next, add 5 drops of clove, 10 drops of cinnamon, and 15 drops each of lemon and orange. Fill the rest slowly with water.
??11??
SADIE’S HANDS SLIPPED FROM her grandmother’s shoulders, her brain incapable of processing. Death had a way of sneaking up on you, even when you were expecting it. It was absolutely impossible until it wasn’t. Only one thought took over as she stared at Gigi’s lifeless body. This was heartbreak number three. And if she’d known—God, if she’d known—she would have taken that tea Gigi had given her when she was thirteen, and thrown it down the drain with a healthy dose of sage to boot.
But she knew, as much as she wanted to, that wouldn’t have stopped Gigi from dying. Even if her grandmother hadn’t killed Julian, even if she hadn’t had the darkness tied to her, death would have eventually exacted its toll.
Sadie had expected to cry. But none of it seemed real. Grief was sticky, and it clung to her bones, weighing her down until she could barely take another step or formulate a coherent thought.
Seth, his face also dry, stepped away to call the coroner. He called Raquel next. Sadie heard her best friend’s voice on the other end of the phone. But when Seth tried to speak, he couldn’t. He stood silent, his mouth opening and closing but unable to find the words. Sadie took the phone from him and whispered a few words to Raquel.
On numb feet, Sadie walked to the back patio, the creaking door echoing in her bones. The scent of Gigi’s last cigarette clung in the air as she sat on the top step, hunched over her knees and trying to draw a breath through her chest, even though it was encased in iron.
It was then that everything crashed into her. Every small gesture, each word, story, gift, birthday card, phone call, and memory that she would never have again.
Her shoulders began to tremble until they quaked, and sobs wracked her body, so violent she had to grit her teeth to keep from biting her tongue. And then there were arms wrapping around her from behind, holding her together. She smelled Seth’s clean soap scent and cried harder. He held onto her until the tears stopped. It was short and violent and left her feeling no better than she had before.
“What do we do now?” she asked him.