“You know there’s nowhere I’d rather be, honey. I’ve got nothin’ but time on my hands,” Gail told her. “My two oldest goin’ off to college, bless ’em. And another getting’ married. And Ayana’s doin’ great. But how are you? That’s the more important question.” Her voice was thick, and Sadie knew she was holding back tears.
“I’m hanging in there.” It was the barest sliver of truth. “I’m going to come into the café tomorrow. I need to—I don’t know—I think Gigi would want me to go back. Not sit here and wallow. And I need something to do. Some normalcy.”
“We’ll be here waitin’ for you, honey.”
Sadie hung up and as she stood on the path, a hummingbird zoomed up, hovering not two feet from her, its wings a blur. It stayed for twenty seconds, staring at Sadie before flying up to hover outside Gigi’s bedroom window. The bird seemed to say two things at once. “Good job for getting back on the horse and do what you know needs to be done.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” she told the bird. And it bobbed in the air before flying off.
Her footsteps up the stairs were soft and even softer as they padded to Gigi’s bedroom. Abby followed her up, her toenails click-clacking against the wood. The poor creature was barely eating, and Sadie had never seen so much sorrow in an animal’s eyes. Together, they stood at the doorway, the sight threatening to bring down the wall she had so carefully been resurrecting around her heart. Everything was exactly the same as it always was. Framed photos on Gigi’s wooden chest of drawers. Scarves hanging on hooks on the wall. A pair of small, hand-painted, porcelain elephants on her bedside table next to a half-empty glass of water and a pair of reading glasses. The curtains billowed despite the closed windows, like they were happy to have someone in the room again.
Abby whined at the foot of the bed, and Sadie picked her little barrel-chested body up and deposited her on the comforter. The dog then proceeded to sniff her way up to Gigi’s pillow, where she took a shuddering breath, turned in a circle, and lay down.
Sadie, focusing her eyes forward, got on her hands and knees to feel under the bed. Her hand hit something metal, and she pulled out the dull moss-green lockbox. Gigi, organized as ever, even in death, had left a page of instructions lying on top.
Sadie smiled wanly, as though her lips had forgotten how to. As she’d said, the cremation service was already paid for. Seth was to pick up the ashes, and then they were to have a family dinner in place of a memorial. Gigi had even detailed what food was to be made.
“No mourning,” she’d written. “Set the table for twenty-nine.”
Twenty-nine, Sadie thought, her eyebrows shooting up. She did a quick calculation. That meant all her cousins were coming. Even second cousins. This was everyone.
In the box were tax information and the deed to the house, which had been transferred to Sadie and Seth. There was a journal, worn and weathered, that Sadie couldn’t quite bring herself to open yet. And there, held together with an old blue rubber band that came from a bunch of asparagus, was a stack of letters. Hers was on top, and she flipped quickly through the rest. One for each of the aunts and uncle Brian, Seth, and Florence.
With trembling fingers, Sadie opened hers. At times, she could barely read the words through her tears.
Hi Peapod,
Unfortunately, the task of delivering these letters falls to you. But you’ve always been my good girl, so I know you’ll do it. Now, I’m sorry for dying. A silly thing to apologize for, isn’t it? But I know how mad you can get sometimes, and I don’t want to leave you with any anger. God knows Revelares are too good at holding grudges, and if there’s one thing I regret, it’s not letting go of them sooner. If I hadn’t been so stubborn, I could have said goodbye to Dickie. But it was too late. It’s not for you. It’s always been so easy for you to forgive, except when it comes to the people you love the most. But you remember those manners I taught you, young lady. Your job is to forgive that brother of yours. And your mother too, whenever she decides to show up.
Now as for the life debt, I’m sorry I kept it from you for so long. But some truths are best kept like dough; they need time to proof. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but there’s a way for you to nullify the curse. This is a last resort, and I’m only sharing it because I’m afraid of what else you’ll try. But if you sacrifice yourself, Seth will be safe. When you give up who you are, you become someone new. And that means all the old debts are forgiven, the dark magic nullified. You’re a new creation. It’s a baptism of sorts, that kind of sacrifice. Just make sure you’re prepared for it.