“You can call her ‘Mom,’ you know.”
“When Mom is here, then,” she said, and the word barely stuck on her tongue.
“Wow. Progress. What is the world coming to?”
“Armageddon,” she answered seriously.
“Are you one of the four horsemen?”
“Famine, obviously.”
“Obviously,” he said, nodding and staring at the basket of naan bread she’d just put in the center of the table. “Guess that makes me death,” he added as an afterthought.
“We’ll see about that.”
Just as the rice finished, Sadie opened the window.
“Dinner!” she called out, and Sage came running.
“Well, isn’t this fancy,” Florence said, her eyebrows saying more than her words.
“Yum,” Sage said, sticking her nose in the air and inhaling.
Sadie ladled the soup into bowls, and Sage carried them to the table.
“This is hyacinth bean soup,” Florence said in surprise.
“It’s my way of saying ‘I’m sorry,’” Sadie said.
“You really are Gigi’s granddaughter.” Florence laughed ruefully and took a bite. “Even better than Mom made it.” She dipped a piece of naan in her soup and closed her eyes.
“Mom,” Sadie said, and Florence stopped chewing and opened her eyes to stare at her daughter. Sadie could tell she was trying not to cry. “Remember your idea about the totems?”
“The one that didn’t work?” Florence laughed harshly.
“It didn’t work because the magic knew we were only giving half of ourselves.” She told them about Gigi’s letter and the sacrifice, and how she’d come to understand that she had to give up her magic. “If we take that same concept,” she said, “but instead, I channel all of my magic into it, it’ll work. I know it will. Her letter said that when you make a sacrifice like that, you become someone new. Your old self dies and you’re reborn. It’ll pay off the life debt.”
“But …” Seth started and stopped, searching for words. “But, no. You can’t.”
“Shut up, Seth. I can do what I want.”
“Honey,” her mom said, reaching a hand across the table to her, which she took, “I know how much your magic means to you.”
“It doesn’t mean anywhere near as much as Seth. You’re going to let me do this for you,” she added sternly, turning to him.
“Are you sure about this?” he demanded.
“I have literally never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” she said. “I mean, I only have one heartbreak left. I’m ready to stop living in fear. So, really, you’re doing me a favor.”
The chair legs scraped against the floor as Seth got up and surprised the hell out of Sadie by leaning down and wrapping his arms around her.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ve been nearly shitting myself every day trying to find a way out of this God-forsaken disaster.”
“You know I’d do anything for you,” she said around the tightness in her throat. “Literally. Anything.”
“I know,” he acknowledged.
“Magic is at its most powerful on the full moon. We have seven days. And I don’t know how Gigi planned it this way, but it’s also the anniversary of Julian’s death. So, we’ll do it at Old Bailer and kill two birds with one stone.” She swallowed hard and ignored the flutters in her stomach. “It’s also the day of the Fall Festival,” Sadie continued. “And since Miss Janet will actually kill me if I don’t show up, I figured we could do our booth and then be at Old Bailer by midnight, which is when the moon technically sets.”
“My life,” Seth said, holding up one hand. “The Fall Festival.” He held up the other and moved them up and down like he was balancing a scale. “Good to know where I fall on that.”
“Do you or don’t you want me to save your life,” Sadie demanded archly.
“Alright, alright,” he grumbled. “But I’m not—” he started, and Sadie cut him off.
“Yes, you are working the booth with me.”
“Oh God, a lifetime of servitude? Is this what I’m in for? Maybe it would be better to let the life debt take me.”
“Sounds like you have it all worked out.” Florence smiled, and Sadie thought she could see pride there.
“If you don’t want to be there, I understand,” Sadie told her. “Actually, I can do it by myself. It might be better that way. In case something backfires.”
“Like that’s going to happen,” Seth scoffed.
“Not a chance,” Florence echoed.
“Okay,” Sadie breathed a sigh of relief, not ready to admit that sacrificing her magic alone was rather low on her wish list.
“Full moon magic,” Sage said.
“Sacrifices and life debts.” Sadie nodded.
“Just your average Friday night,” Seth said.
Sadie laughed. Her hands were trembling, and her body was too jittery, like she’d had six too many cups of coffee. They were all quiet until finally Seth asked the question Sadie didn’t want to.
“Do you think it’ll work?”
“It’ll work,” she said.
“I can’t even think about what it’s going to be like. To be able to block out the voices. I’ll be able to go out in public again.”
She tried not to think about the fact that, after everything, Seth would be left with the magic he never wanted while hers would be gone.
She listened to the chatter and saw Seth’s smile. The real one. Not the tight, close-lipped one he’d been wearing for the last few weeks as he tried to pretend he wasn’t worried. The spoons clattered, and the bread was dipped, and the bowls were emptied, and it felt like she was looking in on someone else’s life. But it was hers. And the knowledge wrapped around her like a hug that welcomed her home.
Hyacinth Bean Soup If someone has a grievance against you or you’re looking for forgiveness (for yourself or others), then this is the soup you want. Hearty and perfect for fall and winter. If you can’t find hyacinth beans, substitute navy beans.
Ingredients
1 onion, diced
2 tomatoes, diced
3 medium potatoes, diced
3 medium carrots, diced
2 c. hyacinth beans (also called njahi beans)
3 c. water, vegetable stock, or chicken stock
salt to taste
1 tsp. garlic powder
dash of thyme
Directions
1.?Boil the hyacinth beans twice, changing the water between batches (skip this step if using navy beans, and simply rinse and strain them) 2.?Fry onions in oil until translucent, add tomatoes and carrots and let cook for 2–3 minutes.
3.?Add beans, onion mixture, and potatoes to a slow cooker or stockpot. Add salt, garlic, and thyme. Let cook until the potatoes are done (but not mushy).
4.?Serve with rice.
??18??
SADIE SPENT THE NEXT six days baking, in and out of the café, returning to her drop-offs at Wharton’s, Lavender and Lace’s, and Poppy Meadows Florist and Gift shop. Florence gave her lessons in focusing her energies, breathing techniques, and meditation practice to guide her magic into the totem … which she still hadn’t chosen. She didn’t hear from Jake. Had no idea if the pecan pie had worked. But one evening when she’d come back from the bakery, there was a small box on the garden gate. Inside was another spoon, this one from Wyoming. There was a bucking bronco perched on top of the handle, and the capital building was etched into the head. She tucked it in her pocket like an amulet.
The day of the full moon dawned bright and crisp as an Envy apple. The house, for once, was silent. No creaks or slamming doors or ominous threats from the grandfather clock. Like it was waiting in suspense with everyone else. A fire roared cheerily in the grate, and someone was making cinnamon toast under the broiler. Sadie found herself rubbing the amethyst on her ring every few minutes, sliding it on and off her finger. Her stomach was in knots, and she could barely stand to drink her coffee for fear it might come back up.
For something to do, she ran to the florist for sunflowers and baby’s breath to arrange on the table for the festival.