Anyway, a couple weeks ago they asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday and I said I wanted to have a party with friends, and then they suggested maybe I could spend my birthday with them.
Like, alone.
Like, on a family trip.
And, as much as I love my parents, that doesn’t spell a good time to me.
I told them no, of course, but I’ve been feeling hella guilty about it ever since, and now after the whole thing with Matt, maybe it’s not the worst idea.
“I don’t know,” I tell her carefully.
“Oh, it will be fun. I promise you. We’ve been looking at one of those cool houses to rent in the middle of the desert, like Joshua Tree. You love that place.”
It’s true. I’ve been to Coachella a few times, and once after the festival, Elle and I rented a glamping spot in the middle of Joshua Tree National Park. I totally fell in love with the place. Something about the remoteness, the sparseness of the land, the stars, and that ever-reaching night sky, like you’re plugged right into the universe. I swear I could feel my blood singing to the moon.
“Are you sure you want to take me to the middle of the desert?”
“Of course!” she exclaims. “We can light a bonfire, dance around it, get drunk.”
“Yeah, right,” I tell her. Oh, they’ll totally dance around the bonfire and yell blessings up to the moon goddess or some nonsense, but my parents very rarely drink. They don’t like to lose control. They don’t even smoke pot, although that’s something I do regularly. Helps dull the world a little, and definitely helps me sleep.
“Come on, it’ll be fun. It will probably be our last trip as a family.”
I finish the dregs of my coffee and give her a sharp look. She’s smiling, but behind her eyes she’s absolutely gutted for reasons I don’t understand.
“Mom. Don’t be so dramatic. I’m still going to be living downstairs. I’ve still got two more years of school, and even then I’ll end up doing my Masters and PhD here. I’m not going anywhere.”
She sniffs and gently runs her fingers under her eyes. “I know. I can’t help but hate that you’re getting older.”
Ugh. Talk about pulling at the heartstrings here.
“Stop. Look. If I say yes to the desert birthday, will you stop acting so sad about it all?”
She smiles. Still looks sad though. “Yes. I promise.” She clears her throat. “Do you still want that Alexander McQueen bag for your birthday?”
I’m not really a designer goods kind of gal, most of my clothes I get through AllSaints and Free People when I can afford it, and Poshmark when I can’t. But a couple of weeks ago I saw this black Alexander McQueen purse with this skull and stone design and I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s expensive as hell, so when I mentioned it to my parents I really didn’t think anything would come of it. I’ll be working most of the summer at the Palace of the Legion of Honor, so I figured I would just save up.
“Yeah, but you don’t have to bother with that,” I tell her. “I know it’s stupid expensive.”
“You only turn twenty-one once,” my mother says. “Stay right here.”
She walks off down the hall to the bedroom and I’m left wondering what’s going on. It’s not long before she’s back and holding an Alexander McQueen box. “I did a thing.”
My mouth drops open. “What?!” I immediately reach for it. “You got me the bag?”
She holds the box away from me. “I did. We both did. But we should probably wait until your father is home before we open it.”
“But…but it’s not my birthday for another two weeks.”
“I know.” She rotates the box around and around in her hands. “But why wait? Why not enjoy it now? You can wear it to class when you do your final exam. For good luck.”
“I don’t know what to say.” My parents have always spoiled me throughout my life, I know that much. I work extra hard because of it, because I’m always trying to be deserving of it. They have money, too, my father coming into a huge inheritance from his father, someone I never got a chance to meet before he died, but even so, the guilt is real.
“The bag is gorgeous,” my mother says. “You have good taste. Plus, the skulls and the black stone on the front are so very you.”
And she just gave me the perfect segue.
“What kind of stone do you think it is?” I ask innocently.
She shrugs. “I’ll have to take another look. Might just be costume jewelry.”
“Or it could be black tourmaline,” I say.
She pauses for a moment, frowning, then nods. “Could be.”
“Is my necklace black tourmaline?” I ask, lifting up the skull.
“And my ring?” I nod at the black stone between two rams’ heads on my right hand.
“That’s pietersite. The Tempest Stone.”
“Where did you get these again?”
“I can’t remember. They were for your sixteenth birthday though.”
“I know that. I remember my English teacher Mrs. Price saying they were practically demonic. She couldn’t believe it when I said you gave them to me.”
“Some people aren’t very open-minded, are they?” She reaches for my mug. “Want more coffee?”
I nod. “Yes, please.” I pause as she brings my mug over to the French press. “So, what does black tourmaline mean?”
“It means protection,” she says, her back turned to me.
“Why do I need protection?”
She gives me a soft smile over her shoulder. “All girls need protection, Lenore.” She turns her head back to concentrating on the coffee.
I jump right into the big question, watching her body language carefully. “Mom, who is Atlas Poe?”
She stiffens for a moment, her hand shaking, coffee spilling. “Who?” she asks, but her voice is a register higher than normal. “Shit. I spilled.”
She keeps her back to me, reaches over for a dishcloth to mop it up.
“Atlas Poe,” I repeat. “I saw him last night. He said he’s been trying to contact you for some time. Maybe he’s sent you an email.”
She clears her throat loudly and finally turns around, putting the coffee in front of me. There’s a tremor in her hand and she quickly hides it. “What did this man want, do you know?”
I shake my head. I hate that she’s lying. Well, not lying…yet. But she definitely knows him, that much I can tell. “He just wanted to talk to you. But I’m going to guess it’s important since it was midnight when I saw him. Right outside my door.”
Her eyes go wide. “Last night?”
“Yeah. I thought he was…I don’t know, a creep.” I’m not about to mention the stalker thing. “But he said he belongs to some guild and that he’s an associate of yours. Of course I told him to just call you like a normal person, but I got the impression that he’s done that already.”
She presses her lips together, nodding. “Ah. Yes, I do remember some emails from him, but I don’t remember what they said. We get so many about this and that.”
Okay, so now she’s lying. Her eyes go squinty. “Did he…did he say anything else to you? Did he do anything?”