The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic(54)

Sadie was sitting next to Jake, and even over the melee of delicious dinner aromas she could smell him. The cedarwood and hint of campfire smoke. When he reached for a second helping, his thigh brushed against hers, and neither of them moved away. She knew she should. Knew she was supposed to keep her distance. That her magic was the only thing that mattered right now. And still, she relished that small point of contact. Let it spread through her until it pooled at her center.

“I can’t eat another bite.” Jake sighed, leaning back in his chair, his hands on his stomach. “Gigi Marie, as always, that was the best meal I’ve had in forever.”

“Well, I hope you saved room for dessert in a little bit. But before we get there, I suppose we should talk about why you’re all here.” The table all hushed at once, and the bubble of joy that had been growing in Sadie’s stomach suddenly burst. Acid began to burn in her chest. Kay was already crying.

“You don’t have to do this, Mom,” Anne said quietly, all teasing gone from her voice.

“Hush, toot. I do have to. You all already know it. Or at least most of you do. I’m dying.” Gigi was never one to mince words, but these came out sharp and sliced through the silence until Sadie could feel the incisions across her heart.

Kay let out a wail, and Tava shushed her. Raquel had silent tears streaming down her face. Seth’s jaw was clenched so hard the vein in his forehead was visible. Brian pushed back his chair as though he were going to leave—like if he refused to hear it, it wouldn’t be true. But when he saw Gigi’s look of warning, he sat back down.

“Chemo,” Anne started but faltered when Gigi’s eyes cut to her.

“This goes beyond modern medicine. It was always going to be this way. And I wouldn’t change a damn thing.” Gigi cleared her throat.

The house groaned and shuddered, and the record player stopped on a dime. The grandfather clock sent out one long, mournful chime.

“So, what we’re going to do now is enjoy our time together. I’ll have no fussing and no hysterics.” She looked pointedly to Aunt Kay. “Everybody hear me?”

They all nodded. Uncle Brian cleared his throat.

“Is there a time frame?” he asked, his voice gritty as muscovado sugar.

“Whenever the good Lord calls me home. But I’d say sooner rather than later.”

Everyone was crying. Jake was squeezing her thigh under the table so hard Sadie was sure it would leave a bruise, but she couldn’t bear to push him away. Instead, she grabbed onto his hand like an anchor and squeezed back. Tava’s tears came out turquoise. Anne was trying to be stoic, but her shoulders were shaking. Raquel’s face was buried in Seth’s shoulder, and he ran a soothing hand over her back, his own tears refusing to fall.

And then, in the silence, the television turned on of its own accord and John Wayne’s voice filtered through to the kitchen.

“Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway,” he said in that trademark twang.

“I’ve always hated that damn picture,” Gigi said with a scowl.

There was silence around the table as True Grit played on in the living room, and then Tava laughed. Anne joined in a moment later, and then they were all laughing through their tears. The air was still heavy as they ate Gigi’s cherry cheese pie, and their hearts were still breaking, but they were breaking together, and that was its own kind of beauty.

As the people around the table dispersed to do dishes or head for the living room, Jake grabbed Sadie’s hand and gave it a gentle pull, nodding to the back-patio door.

She swallowed hard but followed.

“So, Gigi, huh?” he asked once they were in the garden.

“Yeah,” Sadie croaked, reminding herself that it was Gigi she should be concerned with. Not the small space between them that begged her to close it. Gigi. Not the way Jake’s skin looked in the moonlight or the way he ran a distracted hand through his hair.

Her chest tightened. All the change, the family, the looming threat of death, the life debt, gave her heart palpitations. She was losing control. And fast. Constantly feeling like she was about to choke. But being near Jake—somehow he diffused it. She wondered if that was what love was. The subtle easing in her chest. The lending of strength when you needed it most.

“I know this is a bad time,” he said, his hand on the back of his neck now, “but there really is something I need to talk to you about. It can’t wait any longer.”

The palpitations started again.

The ground grew warm beneath her feet. Seeped into her soles and wound through her body until it became so hot that Jake took a confused step back.

One more day, she reminded herself. I have almost everything I need now. The herbs. The knot of Isis. I can do this. Just keep him at bay awhile longer.

The nearby foxgloves, a flower symbolizing healing, began to droop in unison. Jake was talking, but she wasn’t listening. The pale pink of the foxgloves reminded her of the Mount Diablo buckwheat that grew on Wild Rose Hill outside of town. It was the one flower she could never get to grow in her garden. Blooming only once a year and thought to be extinct by most botanists, it was a powerful symbol of love. More than that, it was said to be the flower that had given Evanora Revelare, her ancestor, her magic. Why hadn’t she thought of it until now?

“Sadie,” Jake said.

She had to get that flower.