Just like his mom.
I was unbelievably grateful for that. After seeing what the same experience did to Annie Thurman, I knew things could’ve ended differently. I’d visited her at Oak Grove several more times over the past few months, but had made little progress in sorting through her chaotic mind-scape. Her doctors were planning to scale back her medications, which I was hopeful might induce more clarity in the future.
Even if it didn’t, though, I would keep visiting. Keep trying. Talking to her. Sometimes, just sitting with her. Last week, I’d brought her a piece of Sally’s cheesecake and actually gotten a smile in return. One that reached her eyes. Next week, I was going to bring Agatha along with me. (The healing powers of canasta knew no bounds.)
I watched Rory race across the room to catch up with his brother, a happy flutter inside my gut. He and Declan were closer than ever. The incident had brought them together, an unanticipated side effect of the four-day separation. He’d even grown to like living at The Sea Witch, he’d confided to me just last week when I swung by for dinner.
He moved so fast, he collided with Cade, who was standing by the door embroiled in a conversation with Agatha and Sally. Judging by the tightness of his jaw, they were probably inviting him to dance naked beneath the moonlight on Imbolic.
He was a firmnoon that particular RSVP.
(Me, Gwen, Florence, and Gigi, however, were a definitiveyes.)
When Rory crashed into Cade, he dropped a hand onto the boy’s shoulder to steady him. Leaning down to catch his eyes, he said something that made both of them laugh.
“He’ll make a good dad,” Florence whispered.
I jolted and glanced back at her. She and Gwen were both watching me with soft, hopeful expressions.
“Yeah,” I said, somewhat stiffly. Trying not to panic. “He certainly will.”
They traded a glance.
“So, Flo,” I hastily changed the subject. “Is your engagement party everything you dreamed of and more?”
“It better be after all the effort I put in,” Gwen muttered lowly. “The flowers alone… Who wants fresh orchids in February?”
Flo rolled her eyes. “You’re the maid of honor, not the maid of guilt trips. And I offered to reimburse you for the orchids!”
“You know it’s not about the money!” Gwen’s lips pursed. “It’s about the five florists who laughed at me like I was a crazy person when I called.”
“I’ve told you a thousand times, Gwennie, the trick is if you just keep talking, you can wear almost anyone down,” Flo said sagely. “Eventually, you break their spirit. They’ll do whatever you want.”
Gwen heaved a sigh. “Remind me, when I get married, to make Imogen in charge of all florist and food vendor interactions.”
“Oh?” Flo snorted. “Are you getting married? Has Graham proposed, and you’ve failed to tell us?”
Gwen shot her a glare. “Now you’redefinitelynot in the wedding party.”
“Oooh, tragedy!” She snapped back sarcastically. “How will I live without having to stuff my boobs into an unflattering coral dress?”
“As if I’d ever make you wear coral!” Gwen half-screeched. “With my auburn hair? It would clash like crazy in all the pictures!”
I decided to wade in before their tiff could escalate to a full-blown spat over hypothetical dress colors in a hypothetical wedding.
“Gwen, I meant to tell you earlier this week — the new hires are doing great! I really like them both. I think they’re ready to start taking shifts without you there to supervise, if you need a day off.”
Just before the holiday season, Gwen had hired on two college students to help out around The Gallows. One, I was happy to discover, was the pimply-faced freshman I’d met on Halloween, who’d dressed up as Han Solo and complimented our witchy costumes. His name was Arthur. He was consistently hilarious. (And consistently five minutes late for his shifts, but no one was perfect.)
The other hire was a quiet girl I’d yet to make crack a smile, despite numerous attempts. Her name was Kenna. Not only was she consistently five minutesearlyfor her shifts, she also always stayed late to help with inventory. Kenna was a bit of a mystery, but I knew no one could remain immune to the strange gravity of Salem for long. We’d pull her into the fold at some point.
“They really are great, aren’t they?” Gwen grinned. “I’m glad. Graham and I are finally going away on a long-overdue vacation next month. It’ll be a relief to know the store is in such great hands.” To underscore this point, she reached down, grabbed my gloved fingers, and squeezed.
My heart panged. “Where are you and Graham going?”
“The British Virgin Islands.”
“Whatever you do, don’t have beach sex,” Flo muttered. “You’ll wind up with sand in places sand shouldneverbe. Trust me on that.”