Page 48 of The Rules of Magic

“That’s immaterial. And this is not a visit, dear Jet. It’s a jailbreak.” April had an overstuffed backpack and a duffel bag, both of which she deposited on the couch in the parlor. There were dark circles under her eyes and she appeared drained. “My parents want to take Reggie from me. They want her to grow up on Beacon Hill and go to a private school in a chauffeured car. It’s everything I don’t want for her. Everything I wanted to escape from. They said they’d fight me in court if they had to. I think they’ve already retained a lawyer. So I’m headed to California. Let them try to find me there. This is just a pit stop. I hope you don’t mind.”

“You know you can stay as long as you’d like.”

Franny came in from the garden with a basket of herbs she had just picked, comfrey, mint, and, though it was not as often needed these days due to the birth control pill, pennyroyal. City soot had veined the herbs’ leaves black, so Franny always had to soak them in cold water and vinegar in the big kitchen sink. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the little girl.

Regina looked up at her and smiled. “You’re the good witch,” she said.

Franny laughed. She’d certainly never thought of herself that way, still she was charmed. “Have you ever heard of a tipsy cake?” she asked.

Regina shook her head no.

“Why, it’s absolutely delicious. It’s the most chocolaty chocolate you’ll ever taste. I think I’ll make you one.”

Franny nodded a greeting when April came into the kitchen in search of Regina. She thought their cousin looked the worse for the wear, with her pale hair lifeless and her already slender frame now excessively thin. “We’re just about to make a tipsy cake, but I’ll leave out the rum,” Franny said. “For Regina’s sake. I must say, this is a surprise. But then that’s your style, isn’t it? Just show up out of nowhere.”

“I won’t impose, Franny. I just need a night. We’re leaving for California tomorrow. I’ve got a ride on something called the Sorcerer’s Apprentice, a van that goes cross-country.”

The little girl shivered when California was mentioned. She was so sensitive she seemed a walking prediction, as if she had the sight times two.

“You don’t think you’ll like California?” Franny asked the child.

“Maybe. But I know what happens there.”

“Which is?” Franny pressed.

“Well, people die,” the little girl said.

“For goodness’ sake,” April said. “People die everywhere.”

“You should avoid California,” Franny told her cousin. “She has a premonition. There are better places to raise your daughter.”

“You sound like my mother. Say whatever you want. I’ve made up my mind. I’ve got my degree from MIT, despite my mother’s protests. Biology. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past four years. I have a friend at a geo lab in Palm Desert. I can work there and Regina can be safe for a while.”

Jet came in to make tea. “Safe from what?”

April glanced over at Franny, who was studying the child. “You see it, don’t you?”

Franny did. There was a halo around Regina that usually indicated a shortened life span. Such people seemed more alive when they were young, filled with light. She had never told a soul that Vincent had had the same halo around him when he was a baby, and perhaps this was why she’d always been so protective of him.

Regina sat cross-legged on the floor to play with Wren. “She’s got gray eyes, Momma. Like us.”

“Of course,” Franny told the little girl. “That’s because she’s an Owens cat.”

When it came down to it, Franny was sorry she and April always had quarreled. She wished she could console her cousin, but there was no way to skirt around some things. Not when they both had the sight.

“I want her to have a happy life, a free life,” April said, resigned. “I’m going to do everything I can to see that she gets it. She’ll find that in California. People are more open there. Not so quick to judge.”

Jet had collected a pile of books for the child. “I really don’t know what you two are talking about.”

April turned to observe Jet. “You’ve lost the sight. Maybe that’s for the best.”

“I had no choice in the matter,” Jet said. “My fate wasn’t what I thought it would be.”

“I know what that feels like,” April said in a soft voice, just as the front door was falling open.

Vincent had arrived. Jet had telephoned and insisted he come to dinner. Hearing his cousins’ voices he now knew why. He wandered in with his dog at his heels and bowed to April. “To what do we owe this visit?”

“Bad luck and the need to run away.”