The Rules of Magic (Practical Magic #2)(100)

“If all that was true he’d have had a name.”

Sally was stubborn and not afraid to talk back. Her chin was raised, as if she were ready to have Franny say something terrible. All at once, Franny felt something she’d never felt before. She felt another person’s loss.

“He has a name,” Franny said. She sounded different when she spoke. Sadder. Not mean at all. “Vincent.”

“I like that name,” Sally said.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Franny said. “It’s a wonderful name.”

“If he’s living happily ever after you shouldn’t sound so sad,” Sally told her aunt.

“You’re absolutely right.”

“Is he the one who sends the cookies?” Sally asked. “The ones made of roses from Paris?”

Franny looked into Sally’s clear gray eyes. It was an honest, innocent question. She felt a surge of relief but also a swell of sorrow for all of the years that had been lost. “Yes. I’m sure he is.”

“Will he ever come back?”

Franny shook her head. “Unlikely.”

Sally thought it over and took her aunt’s hand.

“What’s this about?” Franny said, surprised.

“Vincent. What will happen when he sends the macarons to California? He’ll worry about us.”

“When they’re sent back to Paris he’ll know you live here, with us, and he won’t worry.”

Standing on the porch where the light was always turned on, Sally felt her aunt’s loss as well. Franny lowered her gaze so that the girl wouldn’t see tears in her eyes. She thought children were better behaved if they had a little fear and respect. But rules were never the point. It was finding out who you were. In the kitchen there was a chocolate tipsy cake for breakfast. The girls might as well learn early on, this was not a house like any other. No one would care how late they stayed up at night, or how many books they read on rainy afternoons, or if they jumped into Leech Lake from the highest cliff. All the same, there were some things they needed to learn. Do not drink milk after a thunderstorm, for it will certainly be sour. Always leave out seed for the birds when the first snow falls. Wash your hair with rosemary. Drink lavender tea when you cannot sleep. Know that the only remedy for love is to love more.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


My deepest gratitude to my editor, Marysue Rucci. Thank you to Jonathan Karp and to Carolyn Reidy.

Many thanks to Zack Knoll, Dana Trocker, Anne Pearce, Elizabeth Breeden, Wendy Sheanin, Mia Crowley-Hald, Susan Brown, Carly Loman, Lauren Peters-Collaer, and Jackie Seow.

A huge thank-you to Amanda Urban and Ron Bernstein for their faith in this book.

Many thanks to Kate Painter and to Pamela Painter for insights into fiction and fact.

Gratitude to Madison Wolters for assistance in all things.

Thank you to Alexander Bloom for historical expertise.

Thank you to Sue Standing.

Gratitude to my early readers Gary Johnson, Kyle Van Leer, and Deborah Thompson.

Love to everyone who has ever passed through the doors of 44 Greenwich Avenue, especially to Elaine Markson, who made dreams come true.