“Michelle, I told you, you haven’t driven in months. You said you couldn’t focus behind the wheel. I wish you would remember.”
She’d been trying, but it made no sense. She heard Cliff sniffle. Why was he crying?
“Michelle? Say something.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. Okay, so maybe I couldn’t focus before, but now I can, and I need a car.”
“When is Darcy bringing you home?” he asked.
“I don’t know. We’re going shopping at the mall later. And dinner. Probably around ten.”
“Don’t be real late, okay?” Cliff said.
“Cliff, you’re hovering. Don’t treat me like a child. I don’t have a fucking curfew. I’ll get home when I get home.”
Michelle sat at the desk after they hung up, thinking about Cliff crying, picturing the bullets in the gun. Michelle opened the drawer with Darcy’s purse and rummaged through the bag for the keys to her Explorer. Darcy came into the storeroom just as Michelle was sliding the drawer shut.
“Anna can handle the store. When do you want to leave for the mall?”
“That was Cliff on the phone,” Michelle said. “He wants to take me out to dinner tonight. Can we go shopping another time?”
“Sure. How are you getting home? I’ll just drive you.”
“No . . . actually, Cliff should be here in about fifteen minutes. He’s a fucking mess, Darcy. He’s smothering me.”
“I think he’s just trying to help, Chelle. Cliff has really changed over the past few months and . . .”
“Okay,” Michelle said, putting her hand out to her sister. “I don’t want to hear about the Cliff Stage Fan Club.”
Darcy sighed. “It’s not like that, Michelle. We’re both just trying to help. You’ve been through a lot. You both have.”
“I want to ask you something,” Michelle said. “What do you really think about all this?”
“What do you mean?”
“About . . . everything. Like, me believing Cassie isn’t dead. Everything I’ve told you about the cabin.”
Michelle saw Darcy’s expression grow pained. After a moment, she said, “I can’t possibly know what it’s like to lose a daughter, because I’ve never had children. But I know what it would be like to lose you, Chelle, and that would be unbearable.”
“Then you do believe Cassie’s dead? That means you must believe I’m crazy.”
Darcy sighed. “I went to her funeral, Chelle. I sat with you and cried my eyes raw. Just like you. I don’t know how to believe anything else.”
“Then you think I’m crazy, right?”
Darcy smiled and took her hand. “Not at all. I love you.”
Michelle tried a smile over her anxiety. “I have to go.”
“Cliff’s not here yet.”
“He asked if I would meet him out by the edge of the parking lot. He’s probably out there waiting.” She hugged Darcy. “You know how he gets. Can I call you later?”
Darcy kissed her. “Of course.”
Michelle smiled and rushed out the door, hating that she’d lied to her sister.
Chapter 8
Deceit was a unique kind of magic, Mattie thought. Sometimes it worked perfectly, reaping the user untold fortunes. At other times it brought only disaster. One thing Mattie knew with certainty: dishonesty was a brand of magic that could never be predicted or controlled.
“Well, Mama,” Pink said again. “Do you think you can conjure me up something?”
“How about more pudding?” Mattie said as she watched Pink scrape the edge of the spoon along the inside of the glass goblet. Pink gathered every trace of pudding on the spoon then put it between his lips and smacked it clean.
“Business’s been off,” he said, the spoon tinkling when he dropped it inside the glass. “Folks ain’t listing, and they ain’t buying. Not from me. I’m going broke while the rest of the damn agents are selling real estate faster than mice fuck.”
“Pink, do you have to talk like that?”
He looked up at her. “Can’t you throw a little spell together, get me out of the mud, so to speak, so I don’t lose my house?”
“You’re not going to lose your house, Pink,” Mattie said, removing the goblet to the sink.
“Well, maybe not,” Pink said. “But I may have to lay off Clarence and Lulu till things pick up. You love Lulu, remember, Mama? I mean, where would she get another job at her age?”
“Have you set up an altar?” Mattie asked. “I’ll give you everything you need to perform a ritual yourself—green candles, patchouli oil, Lo John. You know how to cast a circle. It’s not that difficult.” She wanted him to take an interest in rituals, knowing it would focus his energies in more positive directions, put him in touch with deities, connect him with something more important than himself.
Pink wrinkled up his face and scratched his neck. “Mama, you know how Isabelle feels about all that stuff. Besides, I ain’t much good at not moving. Now for you on the other hand, it’s natural as breathing, Mama, all that praying and sitting still and picturing the moon and planets and whatever it is you think about when you’re working magic. Me, I start thinking about lasagna and reruns of Baywatch.”
She wanted to say, No, Pink, I won’t help you. You’re having problems because you’ve built your life on lies. But she would never say that to him, she couldn’t, not without feeling like a hypocrite. Everything about the way Pink came into her life was rooted in deception, even though it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Nothing unusual happened when Ida handed her the baby. There had been no beam of sunlight vanishing suddenly beneath a black cloud, no dreadful cawing of crows in a distant field. It was one moment like any other. Ida had looked up, her face bubbled with sweat, her eyes red from crying and pushing, and placed her new baby in Mattie’s arms. Mattie had smiled at the child, amazed at how light he felt, no more weight than a rooster. His slender arms rustled like windblown branches, his fingers curling and uncurling, like breathing. His face was red, his head slightly lopsided and cute, his legs already kicking at the new space around him, making room for a new person in the world. His hair, like his mama’s, was damp and stringy, stuck to his forehead. Mattie had smoothed the hairs from his brow. His eyes had been puckered like rosebuds and he could only open them to slits. Mattie had smiled over at Ida then handed the baby back, but Ida shook her head, trying to sit up.