The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic(66)

On Sunday, Sadie refused to go to church, but Gigi put her foot down.

“I won’t have you hanging around here wasting your life with some doddery old fool. I know they’re having a potluck today after service, and you’re supposed to bring something. You always do. So, go. And take the rest of this gaggle with you. Give me some peace. Gail has the café today, but tomorrow your butt is going back to work, you hear me?”

In between preparations for getting ready, Sadie made thyme and sesame crackers to go with her garlic dill dip. Anyone eating them would find themselves a little more honest and open than they usually were. Normally, she’d bring sweet instead of savory. But time was short, and tempers were high.

All seven of them piled in Uncle Brian’s van and arrived just as worship was starting. There was only one row with enough seats together, and of course it had to be directly in front of Bethany and Jake. She tried to ignore his baritone voice and the way it burrowed into her bones, warming her.

During the greeting, Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez came over, Sofía and Camilla trailing behind.

“Oh, mi querida!” Mrs. Rodriguez held out her hands to Sadie and squeezed them before pulling her into a hug. It was warm, and she smelled faintly of cinnamon, and Sadie wanted to sink into her forever. For all Raquel’s mock complaints about her family, Sadie had grown up envying her. Mrs. Rodriguez drew back, and Mr. Rodriguez pulled her in next.

“We’re always here for you—whatever you need,” Mrs. Rodriguez told Sadie. “And Raquel, don’t forget you have to take your sisters to soccer practice after church,” she added sternly.

“Yes, Mamá,” she answered, but as soon as her mother left, added, “If she’d let Camilla get her license like a normal teenager, she could drive herself.” And then she wedged between Seth and Sadie. She held Sadie’s hand during the prayer, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Sadie didn’t hear a word of the sermon. Her heart was brittle. There would only be one heartbreak left after Gigi. For she knew, without a doubt, Gigi’s passing would be the worst heartbreak of her life. And everything would hang in the balance.

She thought how, in many ways, she’d been preparing for this heartbreak her whole life. The worst one of all. The one that claimed the person you owed your life to.

Before she realized what was happening, Pastor Jay had said his final benediction, and the stampede of feet toward food thundered in her ears.

The long tables were laden with Crock-Pots and platters and plastic bowls. Sadie didn’t have it in her to eat. But she tried to be civil because that’s what was expected of her.

She stood watching as Aunt Anne talked to everyone, and Uncle Brian stood quietly off to the side. Aunt Tava was drawing a heart on the cheek of Ms. Janet’s granddaughter, with the sparkly eyeliner she always kept in her purse. She liked having them there. Even though they were all broken in some way, their love filled in the cracks until it felt almost whole.




Monday looked the same as Tuesday. Sadie was at the café before the rest of the house had even woken up. She made cinnamon challah bread and pinwheel pastries with elderflower jam, rosewater and cardamom panna cotta, and lavender and honey macarons. But nothing was as potent as it should have been. The macarons didn’t bring peace, and the panna cotta didn’t banish the negative energy the way it was supposed to. Her magic felt thin, and she thought briefly about the Grand Revel in April, when her magic was always at its strongest. If only Gigi would make it that long.

Both days, she came home with sore shoulders from kneading dough, and flour in her hair and under her fingernails. Her soul yearned toward the garden, and no matter how much she tried to wash the desire away with a hot shower and rosemary mint shampoo, it clung firm.

On Wednesday, Sadie barely made it through half her shift, when Gail forced her to go home.

“I know you’re tryin’ to distract yourself,” Gail said, patting her cheek, “but it won’t work. Ayana is on her way. So go.”

Thursday and Friday looked much the same, and even though she was trying to distract herself, every hour that passed at the bakery she thought of Gigi, counting down the hours until she went home to her. Until Gail or Ayana would shuffle her out the door, demanding she go home. And still, she refused to go into the garden. She couldn’t stand seeing the destruction or the way it echoed in her heart.

Anne was always finding something to do, even if it didn’t need to be done. She could never sit still. Kay, on the other hand, never left Gigi’s side. The two sisters were always at odds, with Tava trying and failing to broker peace.

“Why don’t you rest?” Sadie asked Anne in the evening.

“I will,” she answered, her hands deep in the sink, scrubbing stovetop grates.

“You won’t.” Sadie smiled.

“Sometimes it’s easier to serve than it is to sit.” Anne shrugged. “You know the story of Mary and Martha in the bible?”

“You’re Martha?” Sadie guessed.

“Martha was distracted. Or she was distracting herself. Maybe both. But Mary was just sitting there at Jesus’s feet. Martha asked Jesus if he cared that Mary had left her to do the work by herself, and told him to tell her sister to help her. He said that Mary had chosen the right path. But they both served a purpose, didn’t they?”

“I know what you mean,” Sadie said quietly. “It’s like love. Sometimes it’s harder to let yourself be loved than it is to love. There’s more vulnerability in it. It’s stepping back and saying, ‘I trust you enough to love me.’ Like Mary sitting there and just listening.”