“Ready?”he asked.
I nodded.
We climbed out, and Owen took the vase from my hands so I could manage my dress and dignity.
At the porch steps, he handed the flowers back with a grin.“I don’t want her to think those are from me.”
Together, we walked toward the house.
Before we even reached the porch, the door opened.A tall, slender woman stood framed in the doorway.She had the same gray eyes as Owen, the same smile, and my chest tightened.
Her head was wrapped in a colorful scarf, and a simple cotton dress hung too loosely on her frame.
But her eyes were bright.Her smile was warm.She looked genuinely happy to see us.
“Owen, it’s about time you brought her here,” she said, voice strong.She waited while we climbed the steps.“Look at you, Piper.All grown up.”
“Hi, Mrs.McAllister.”
“Oh, call me Madeline, please.Mrs.McAllister is my mother-in-law.”
My hands tightened on the vase.Everything inside me froze.
Madeline McAllister.
MM.
I looked at Owen, but his face was impassive.
Owen’s mother had to be the one helping Alice.The one who knew the old ways.
“Are you two going to stand there all day in the heat or come inside?”Madeline asked.
“These are for you,” I managed, handing her the vase.
She took it, eyes lighting with delight.“Oh, Piper.They’re lovely.From your shop?”
I nodded.
Owen said, “She did the arrangement.”
“Of course she did.”Madeline grinned.“You have a talent for it, like Alice.Now come inside.It’s hot enough to scald a lizard out here.”
Inside, the house was cool and smelled like Sunday dinner—pot roast, fresh bread, and something sweet baking in the oven.The living room had a lived-in, comfortable home look with furniture that had been well-worn and well-loved.Family photos were everywhere, which was such a contrast to the house I grew up in.
The living room had built-in bookshelves on one end that were filled top to bottom with books.Old ones.And as we entered, Madeline put the vase of flowers on the coffee table and motioned for us to sit.
But my eyes were still on the bookshelves because I thought I saw something familiar.Something with the same lettering as the grimoire stamped on the spine, the gold glittering in the lamplight.I couldn’t stop staring at it.
Madeline followed my gaze, then she looked back to me.
“Owen,” she said, “why don’t you help your father in the kitchen.I want to get to know this young lady.”
He hesitated, glancing between the two of us but I was frozen in place.The last thing I wanted was to be left alone with his mother.
Finally, he nodded, pressed a kiss to my temple, and then was gone.
When he was out of the room, she looked me over with a critical eye.
