Part 9 (1/2)
”Are you having a wedding?” I ask, fascinated in spite of myself. Who knew that Rowena would ever even think to break with tradition?” It's still under discussion.
In any case she needs a lovely dress and so do you,” my mother replies hastily.
Then she draws in a breath.
”You know, Aunt Linnie is very good with a sewing machine and-”
”I'll call you in the morning, Tam,” Rowena says shortly, and then she's gone.
”So,” my mother begins yet again, and then she makes an attempt at normalcy.
”How are your cla.s.ses going?”
”Fine,” I say.
”And what are you taking this semester?”
”Art history, English, pre-calc-you know.”
”Pre-calc?” my mother says doubtfully, as though it's some sort of disease.
”Math.”
”Oh, well, good. That all sounds very ... interesting,” she says at last. My stomach clenches on that word.
”Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to Grandmother. Is she around?”
”Well, she's not out playing bingo,” my mother says, and I blink, then start to laugh. The image of my grandmother in nylons and pumps, clutching a purse to her chest and squinting at a score sheet, flashes through my head. It feels almost sacrilegious and I quiet down.
”But . .”
My mother hesitates and I try to fill in the blank. She won't necessarily want to talk to you right now. Or she's busy in the stillroom brewing up some love spell for any number of idiotic women in the town who-”She may be sleeping. She's not been ... well lately.” Suddenly, I am all too aware of my own heartbeat.
”What do you mean she's not well? How is-”
”She's old, Tam,” my mother says, as if this is somehow new information.
”It will be her time soon. She knows this.”
”Mom-this is a lot of mumbo jumbo, okay? What about a doctor?”
”Your grandmother is a doctor.”
”Oh, really? Excuse me, but I don't exactly recall where she got her MD?” My mother blows out a sigh, short and gusty, and it crackles down the phone wires into the hollows of my ear.
”You know your grandmother is skilled in healing” And before I can retort, my mother adds abruptly, ”Hang on, let me see if she's awake,” and puts the phone down with a clunk. I s.h.i.+ft and push away a few more shoes before cracking open the door and peeking into the room. A gentle snore coming from Agatha's bed rea.s.sures me.
There is a soft rustling noise on the other end of the line and a rush of breathing before ”h.e.l.lo?” My grandmother's deep voice floods my ear. Instantly, I concentrate on clothes. Thrift-store T-s.h.i.+rts and fishnet stockings, preferably purple, my favorite color.
”Hi,” I say through all this.
”Sorry to bother you.” My grandmother is silent.
”But I have something I need to . .”
Confess? No, too guilty-sounding already.
”I have something I need to tell you” More silence. I take a breath. The cell phone is growing hot against my head, but I lost my earpiece more than a week ago.
”In the store the night of Rowena's engagement party, I met someone. A man came in looking for something.”
”Ah,” my grandmother says. It's one of her favorite words. Depending on the inflection, it means a whole bunch of different things. It could mean I was wondering when you would get around to telling me this. Or you continue to amuse me with your oh-so-predictable troubles. Or I see the solution to your problem even if you cannot. Right now I'm hoping it means a little of all three.
”Anyway ... ” There is a large thumping going on above my head and I finish in a rush.
”I didn't tell him that I couldn't. I said I would help him find what he wanted to find. ”
”And did you?”
”I did,” I say, and pride creeps into my voice. I didn't need your help or Rowena's. Okay, so I needed Gabriel's, but I'll get to that in a minute. But before I can continue, my grandmother says, ”Congratulations. So what's the problem, then?” Um ... how to answer that one? Let's see. I pretended to be Rowena, lied about being able to ”find”
something for a stranger, found it in 1899, and nearly got killed in the process.
Finally, I whisper, ”I think what I found for him is not what he wanted. And I don't think I should have found it anyway. ”
”Ah,” she says again, and I wait for what feels like an hour until she speaks again.
”It seems that you've just stumbled onto one of life's greatest lessons, then. Things are rarely what they first appear to be.” Somehow this conversation is not going the way I thought it would go. But before I can say anything else, she sighs and suddenly I have a vision of her, the phone pressed to her ear, her face lined with an undeniable weariness.
”Tamsin, regardless of what you should have done, you've started down this path. Now, I believe the only thing you can do is see it through. You have to see it through. If you don't, I can't see any other way for you. Or for all of us, for that matter” And somehow her voice holds a mixture of sadness and resignation. I blow out a breath, then say in what I think is a pretty calm tone, ”What are you talking about?” Is it possible she doesn't understand?
”I'm ...
”I'm not a witch, I want to howl. But apparently that's all I'm going to get because she says in an entirely different tone, ”Now, if you'll excuse me, Jeopardy! is about to begin.” And with a soft click my grandmother is gone.
TEN.
”WHAT ABOUT this one?” Rowena asks, pirouetting before me. Her reflection catches in the three-way mirror, a dizzying spin of ivory silk and lace.
”It's great,” I say.
”Very bridal.” Rowena stops twirling, her skirts settling slowly. She stares at me, eyes narrow.
”You said that about the last one and the one before that and the one before that.” I raise my hands in mock defense.