The Rules of Magic (Practical Magic #2)(57)

Regina shook her head no.

“Why, it’s absolutely delicious. It’s the most chocolaty chocolate you’ll ever taste. I think I’ll make you one.”

Franny nodded a greeting when April came into the kitchen in search of Regina. She thought their cousin looked the worse for the wear, with her pale hair lifeless and her already slender frame now excessively thin. “We’re just about to make a tipsy cake, but I’ll leave out the rum,” Franny said. “For Regina’s sake. I must say, this is a surprise. But then that’s your style, isn’t it? Just show up out of nowhere.”

“I won’t impose, Franny. I just need a night. We’re leaving for California tomorrow. I’ve got a ride on something called the Sorcerer’s Apprentice, a van that goes cross-country.”

The little girl shivered when California was mentioned. She was so sensitive she seemed a walking prediction, as if she had the sight times two.

“You don’t think you’ll like California?” Franny asked the child.

“Maybe. But I know what happens there.”

“Which is?” Franny pressed.

“Well, people die,” the little girl said.

“For goodness’ sake,” April said. “People die everywhere.”

“You should avoid California,” Franny told her cousin. “She has a premonition. There are better places to raise your daughter.”

“You sound like my mother. Say whatever you want. I’ve made up my mind. I’ve got my degree from MIT, despite my mother’s protests. Biology. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past four years. I have a friend at a geo lab in Palm Desert. I can work there and Regina can be safe for a while.”

Jet came in to make tea. “Safe from what?”

April glanced over at Franny, who was studying the child. “You see it, don’t you?”

Franny did. There was a halo around Regina that usually indicated a shortened life span. Such people seemed more alive when they were young, filled with light. She had never told a soul that Vincent had had the same halo around him when he was a baby, and perhaps this was why she’d always been so protective of him.

Regina sat cross-legged on the floor to play with Wren. “She’s got gray eyes, Momma. Like us.”

“Of course,” Franny told the little girl. “That’s because she’s an Owens cat.”

When it came down to it, Franny was sorry she and April always had quarreled. She wished she could console her cousin, but there was no way to skirt around some things. Not when they both had the sight.

“I want her to have a happy life, a free life,” April said, resigned. “I’m going to do everything I can to see that she gets it. She’ll find that in California. People are more open there. Not so quick to judge.”

Jet had collected a pile of books for the child. “I really don’t know what you two are talking about.”

April turned to observe Jet. “You’ve lost the sight. Maybe that’s for the best.”

“I had no choice in the matter,” Jet said. “My fate wasn’t what I thought it would be.”

“I know what that feels like,” April said in a soft voice, just as the front door was falling open.

Vincent had arrived. Jet had telephoned and insisted he come to dinner. Hearing his cousins’ voices he now knew why. He wandered in with his dog at his heels and bowed to April. “To what do we owe this visit?”

“Bad luck and the need to run away.”

“It’s always the same story,” Vincent said with a grin. “Parent trouble.”

“You know so much and yet so little,” April remarked.

No one mentioned Vincent’s involvement with William. Franny because she didn’t think to do so, and Jet because she knew it would be painful news for April. She wanted this evening to be a happy time, and it was exactly that. Thankfully, April had never had the ability to get inside Vincent’s head. Regina took to him, just as she had when she was a baby. After dinner, she begged him to read aloud from Half Magic by Edward Eager, her favorite book, and he obliged. Vincent thought the novel was advanced for her age, but Regina was not a typical child. She had taught herself to read, and always carried a book with her. Vincent was especially funny when he acted out the dialogue of a cat that was half real and could only half talk. Regina was soon enough in fits of bright laughter.

Vincent’s dog was at his feet, his shadow, silent and dignified and more than a little mortified when Regina laid her cuddly stuffed bunny rabbit beside him.

“I call her Maggie,” Regina said.

“Do you?” Vincent said, giving April a grin.

“What did you expect her to call it? Mrs. Russell?” April teased.

“How did you know about that?” Vincent asked. Then he saw a look exchanged between April and Jet. “Does everyone know all the details of my life?”

“Not all,” Jet said.

“Hardly anything,” April assured him.

When the chocolate cake was ready they had it hot from the oven, served with mounds of vanilla ice cream.

“Am I allowed to have that?” Regina asked.

“Of course,” Vincent told her. “Always remember,” he whispered, “live a lot.”

Regina ate most of her cake. “You can have the rest,” she told Vincent, as she set to work on a drawing of Harry and Wren. In her rendering the two were best friends who held each other’s paws.