Spells for Forgetting(46)

“If he’s going to die, I wish he’d get on with it,” I said, the words drifting into the wind.

When Dutch said nothing, I blinked, turning to look at him.

He gave me an unnerved look. “That’s fucked up, man.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” I realized. But it was true. The best thing that could happen to me was the old man dying.

“Come on! You guys making out up there?” Emery shouted.

Dutch let his head fall back, calling out over the sound of the wind. “Yeah, we are! You gotta problem with that?”

“No, just hurry up! We’re cold!”

Dutch sank down, lugging the pumpkin up into his arms. We’d saved the biggest one for last. “All right! Bombs away!”

He turned in a circle, flinging it over the railing. It flew up over our heads before it started to drop, and we both leaned over the side, watching as it disappeared.





Twenty-Six


    EMERY


I pulled at the nettle stalks along the fence, tearing them out of the soft earth.

The northeast corner of the land was all but overtaken by wild herbs this time of year, and we always harvested them in the days leading up to October’s full moon. The patch would die out in winter and then return in the summer, but there was a year’s worth of nettle here that I’d dry and use for the tea shop. What was left I’d give to Leoda to use in her medicines at the apothecary.

The chore was a welcome distraction. Sweat trailed down my back as I tore them out by the roots, more roughly than was necessary. My wrists burned where the barbs had grazed my skin, despite my long sleeves and gloves. I ignored the sting, reaching for another handful and yanking. When they didn’t budge, I leaned back, groaning as I pulled, and they lifted from the soil all at once, sending me backward.

I hit the ground hard. “Goddamn it.” I flung them onto the pile, sitting back up.

I pulled off my glove and unbuttoned my sleeve, cinching it up so that I could see my elbow. The skin there was scraped and raw.

My phone hummed from somewhere behind me and I turned to see Dutch’s name on the screen. He hadn’t called since I saw him on my way to Nixie’s, but he was finally breaking his silence. I instinctively reached for it, but my hand trembled over the phone, waiting for it to go to voicemail instead. I couldn’t avoid him forever. I knew that. But the last thing I needed was another fight about a wedding ring.

I pulled the glove back on and picked up the spade, raising it over my head and driving it down into the earth. The pain that had surfaced in my jaw woke again, and I had to force myself to unclench it, breathing through the erratic pace of my heartbeat.

The letter was now tucked beneath the sweaters in my bottom drawer with the ferry tickets and the brown folder, but it pulled at the edges of my mind all the way from the house. Eloise’s handwriting was like a loop of images replaying in my thoughts. They were followed by my uncle Jake’s words.

Lily being pregnant changed everything, but still, none of it added up. We told each other everything. Every secret. Every embarrassing thought. She was the first person I’d gone to when August and I had sex the first time and she’d never hidden her crushes or the things that happened with guys she was fooling around with from school. There was only one reason I could think of that she’d hide it from me. That maybe Jake was right. Maybe it was August.

My hands stilled on the nettles and I sat back on my heels, staring into the trees. I’d gone to see Jake to give him the letter, but as I sat there in his office, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t know if I could believe that August hurt Lily. It didn’t fit with anything else from that time. But I had to admit to myself, for the first time, that it was possible.

And Lily wasn’t the only one who’d kept secrets. I had, too.

August had hidden the bruises well enough or explained them away for a long time before I started putting it together. But the older we got and the more nights we spent together, the less easy they were to miss.

At first, he lied to me about it, but over time, his responses were less insistent. Eventually, they turned into an uncomfortable silence when I asked. When he finally did admit it to me, he never answered my questions or gave me details. He did, however, make me promise not to tell anyone.

It wasn’t a hard leap to believe that Jake was right about Calvin, either. He’d left his family when we were babies, and I’d never gotten the sense that anyone was too broken up about it. Henry, on the other hand, was a different story. Everyone in town knew he was difficult and that he was hard on August. Always. But he was also the most powerful man on the island and no one dared to step out of his good graces.

I’d promised August I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I’d kept that promise only because I knew we were leaving. Looking back, that had been the wrong decision, but we were kids. I somehow always forgot that we were just kids.

“There you are.”

I jolted at the sound of my father’s voice, nearly jumping out of my skin. I looked up as he took off his hat, holding it before him. His denim jacket was unbuttoned, his cheeks pink. He’d probably just come in off the water.

“Heading over to the pub and thought I’d stop by.”

It was the last weekend of the tourist season and the ferries would be light for once. Half the shops in town had already closed, but there was always a demand for beer.