“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Whoo, girl. Like I said, you were carrying on and on. Wailing, pulling your hair, scratching your skin. You were in a fetal position for the most part. Etienne decided to move you into your bedroom, and then him and Brutus helped me get to bed. But you kept going on.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Mm-hmm. Etienne drove Brutus home and got him settled, and then came back here to see if he could try any other treatments on you. No idea how long he stayed, but look! You’ve stopped crying.”
Ophelia groaned and placed her head on the cool tabletop. She supposed it was better than shitting herself or vomiting in front of Etienne.
“I am so mortified,” she grumbled into the table.
“Well, yes, I suppose you are.” Mawmaw took a big sip of her coffee. “Oh, Etienne said he could sense your tiger, so that was interesting. Do you remember your protector from last night?”
Ophelia raised her head to Mawmaw. “I do remember my tiger being lovely and non-judgmental by the ultimate terror and pain rippling through my body,” she said dripping with sarcasm and shoved her face back into the dark cradle of her arms on the table.
“Mm-hmm. Etienne was also quite lovely and non-judgmental about the whole thing.”
Ophelia refused to honor her comment with a response and kept her head down. Mawmaw chuckled to herself.
“Are you gonna make me miserable all day?” asked Ophelia. “Perhaps I should spend my day practicing. Like, is it possible to give youmorearthritis in those fingers? Or does my gift only treat? I feel like I should try, yes?”
“Ha-ha,” Mawmaw deadpanned. “You are such a grump. Now, do you want to treat some people today? Find out if you took to the Passing? ’Cause I’m going to church here in thirty minutes, and everyone is gonna wanna see you and ask all the questions.Some may even trust that cute face of yours enough to treat them. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“That would be something all right,” she said, suddenly recharged at the thought of her newfound treating abilities. “Okay, I’m gonna get ready.” Ophelia refilled her coffee, grabbed a slice of pain perdu from the stack, and went to her room to change.
After emergingfrom her room clad in a baby blue slip dress and a tan cardigan, Ophelia helped Mawmaw into the old Lincoln. Ophelia drove, naturally. Mawmaw knew she wasn’t allowed to drive, but still argued with Ophelia about it. The old woman was persistent in her persistence.
Ophelia pulled off the oyster-paved road and headed into town toward the church.
“So do you feel anything different?” asked Mawmaw.
“Ya know, I don’t think so. I still feel like I’m in a haze. Almost hungover, and my body is exhausted. Don’t judge me if I fall asleep during mass.”
Mawmaw hummed in acknowledgment.
“Am I supposed to feel different?”
“You will. Your gift is still settling. When you start to use it, you’ll see. I won’t spoil it for you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
It was not difficult for Ophelia to stay awake during mass. Her body ached against the hardwood of the pew, and when she knelt, she could feel her joints crumbling, her bones grinding.One second of pain, my ass.Her mind wandered during mass like any good Catholic, not that Ophelia was remotely that. She needed to text Etienne to thank him and ask for his advice on all things treating. She really needed to figure out how she was going to use her new gift. Perhaps he could help.
She’d also need his help in navigating the social aspects of being magical. Was that even what people said—that theyaremagical or theyhavemagic? There had to be some type of commonly used phrase amongst those with “extra abilities.”
Mass thankfully passed quickly, and before she knew it, the priest and the altar servers were processing up the aisle. She and Mawmaw were slowly following the crowd to the exit. They shuffled to the door while Mawmaw stopped every minute to greet a friend and introduce Ophelia as the family’s new Traiteur. One middle-aged woman with red hair gently leaned into Mawmaw as they walked and whispered something to her. Mawmaw smiled softly and then mumbled something inresponse. They finally made their way back to the old Lincoln, and Ophelia helped Mawmaw in the passenger side.
“Well, hun,” said Mawmaw as Ophelia started the car, “you’ve got ya’self your first patient.”
“Really?” exclaimed Ophelia. “Already?”
“Yep, that lady in the navy-blue car is gonna follow us back home. Her name is Carrie. Sweet gal.”
“Did she tell you what was wrong?”
“Nah, she just said she needed help.”
The navy car followed Ophelia to the Pine House. Carrie stepped out of her car, and Ophelia took note of her thin frame. She could tell that the woman was once beautiful, stunning even. Her hair was naturally vibrant with soft waves, and her features were delicate against enviably creamy, smooth skin. But her gauntness dimmed her beauty. She lacked the roundness of someone who ate regularly and managed stress well. No, this woman was struggling, and it showed everywhere. Ophelia smiled at her and waved as she got Mawmaw out of the car.
