Spells for Forgetting(88)

“Okay. When do you get back?” She was already bored with it. That was like her, too.

“We’re not,” I said, lowering my voice. “We’re not coming back.”

In an instant, all of the color drained from Lily’s face, making her blue eyes brighter. “What do you mean?”

I could feel the air around us shifting. The pub seemed hotter, more claustrophobic. “I mean we’re not coming back. We’re going to travel. I’m not really sure yet exactly where.”

Lily’s hand flattened on the table between us and she stared at it. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” I was still trying to hold us above water with a smile, but Lily was sinking fast.

“You can’t do that.”

I looked around us, making sure that no one was listening. She looked like she was about to have a fit.

“He can’t leave,” she said, panicked.

“What?”

“The…the orchard,” she stuttered. “August can’t just leave the orchard.”

“He doesn’t want to run it, Lily. You know that.”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants!” She slammed her hand on the table, making me jump. Several people were staring now.

“Jesus, Lily, will you shut up?”

Tears welled in her eyes. “You’re not going.”

“Yes, we are. This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I knew you would freak out.”

“How could you just lie to me?”

“I didn’t. I was just waiting to tell you because I knew you would do this.”

“Do what?”

I waved a hand between us. “This. Make it all about you.”

She was breathing hard now, her eyes jumping around the table as her mind raced. “I’ll tell your parents. I’ll walk over there right now and tell your dad.”

“Lily!” I whispered hoarsely. “What the hell?”

Her eyes traveled past me, to where my dad was walking over with two plates.

“Don’t,” I rasped. “I’m serious, Lily. Don’t say anything.”

A furious tear rolled down her cheek before she stood, hitting the table with her hip and nearly knocking the sodas over. My heartbeat sprinted ahead of my breath as I watched her walk straight toward my dad and I twisted the napkin in my lap until it burned against my palms. But just when I was sure she would stop him, she didn’t. She pushed through the tables instead, storming out.

“What was that?” He watched as she disappeared through the door.

“Nothing.” I swallowed hard, prying my hands free of the napkin. “Just Lily being Lily.”





Fifty-Two


    LEODA


The leaves unfurled inside the teapot, the fragrant steam curling up into the cold air as I set it on the wooden tray and replaced the lid.

This wasn’t the kind of tea made for a social call. It was the kind you set on the table to make people more comfortable when there were uncomfortable topics to be discussed, and then poured out an hour later when it was cold. I’d made many pots of tea just like it through the years, and I suspected it wouldn’t be my last.

The call had come just before breakfast, and there was a knock at the door a half hour later. I’d opened it to the last person I’d expected to be our ticket out of this.

I picked up the tray and the teacups jostled on their saucers. The gleam of sunlight on a windshield caught my eye through the window, and I watched the road through the lace curtains as the car drove past, waiting to be sure it didn’t pull into the drive.

When it was out of sight, I pushed into the swinging kitchen door with my hip and made my way back into the dining room, where Jake and Dutch were waiting.

Dutch’s busted, swollen face was purple on one side, the corner of his lip scabbed over. “If you come by the apothecary, I’ll give you something for that,” I said, frowning.

I set down the tray in the middle of the table, taking my own seat.

“Thanks, Leoda.” Jake stared at the tea, but even he knew not to touch it.

I looked from him to Dutch. “Well, what is it?”

He gave Dutch a gentle nod. “Go ahead, son.”

Dutch cleared his throat, sitting up straighter in his seat, and I resisted the urge to tap my finger impatiently on the table.

“Look, I’m not stupid enough to believe the bullshit reasons you gave when you offered me the position at the orchard. I’m going to guess it had something to do with knowing I wouldn’t ask questions, and I haven’t. So, keep that in mind when you’re deciding whether to pull me back into this shit.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. The arrangement with Dutch had been a kind of silent agreement between all of us—a truce. He took the chair in the manager’s office and in exchange, we forgave him the sins he’d never admitted to. But sitting there now, he just looked like the fool of a kid we all remembered.

“Fair enough,” I said.

He nodded, shooting another look in Jake’s direction. “I lied. About that night.”

“Clearly.” My irritation laced into the words. I’d played these games with him and Emery long enough.

Dutch’s eyes snapped up, focusing on me. The pulse at his neck was racing beneath the skin.