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Persephone took a step toward me and leaned closer. “Good,” she whispered. “I hope the guilt eats her alive.”
And without another word, she stepped back into her room with a toss of her glossy black head and closed the door between us.
I stood frozen to the spot, my heart pounding for a moment. It was shocking to hear someone talk about my own mother with such venom. Every doubt I’d had about my mother’s reluctance to come back here vanished on the spot. I was starting to feel antsy about staying under the same roof with Persephone, and I’d only just met her.
Feeling now like an unwelcome intruder on the second floor, I quickly used the bathroom, which was decorated from ceiling to floor with hand-painted vines, blossoms, and insects, washed my hands with a lump of rough-cut lavender soap, and hurried back downstairs before Persephone could accost me again. My mother gave me a piercing look as I joined her on the loveseat.
“Everything okay?”
“Fine.”
She pressed her lips together but said nothing else.
A moment later, Rhiannon returned with a big silver tea tray, crowded with colorfully mismatched cups and saucers, a round-bellied blue teapot, and a plate heaped high with cookies. She poured out the tea and offered around a chipped purple bowl of sugar cubes. I wasn’t exactly a tea drinker, but I took a cup anyway. The steam that wafted up into my face smelled of roses, and I inhaled it deeply as I watched my sugar cube melt away at the bottom of the cup among the scattering of tea leaves.
My mom took a long sip of the tea and closed her eyes with a sigh. Rhi’s face was lit for a moment by a soft smile as she watched her.
“I imagine tea like this is hard to find in Portland,” she said.
“Tea like this is hard to find anywhere,” my mom said, and she managed a smile as well.
Rhi offered around the plate of cookies next, and I unstuck one from the tower, suddenly realizing how famished I was. I’d been so anxious that morning that I’d only picked at the muffin from the coffee shop, and that had been hours ago. The first bite—lemon and lavender with a drizzle of vanilla icing—was heaven, and I let slip a little groan of delight.
“You made these?” I asked as soon as I could swallow.
“My own recipe,” Rhi confirmed, looking delighted. “I sell them in the shop sometimes, and they’re always gone before lunch time.”
“I can see why,” I said, popping the rest of the cookie in my mouth and reaching for a second, “because it’s literally the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
Rhi’s freckled cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Well, help yourself. I’ve got more in the oven.”
We sipped and munched in silence for a few minutes, and then finally, Mom put her cup down.
“I wish you’d told me she was sick,” she said.
Rhi bit her lip. “I was in denial,” she said. “If I couldn’t admit it to myself, I could hardly have admitted it to you.”
“Still, Rhi.”
“I know. But she didn’t want you to know. She didn’t want anyone to know.”
“But why?”
Rhi’s smile was sad. “You know Asteria. Completely convinced of her own invincibility. When did she ever admit weakness?”
Mom gave a weak chuckle. “Not once in her whole damn life. Yeah. I get it.”
“She hid it well, too. Even Persi and I didn’t realize how sick she was until it was too late,” Rhi said. She dropped her gaze to her cup, but not before I spotted the telltale sparkle of tears in her eyes.
“Speaking of Persi, do you think she’ll deign to be in the same room with me while I’m here?” Mom asked.
Rhi’s flushed cheeks darkened from pink to scarlet. “She’s in a dark place right now. She’ll come around.”
I thought back to my encounter with her upstairs and wondered if that was really true.
“And anyway,” Rhi said, cramming a cookie into her mouth, “she’s not going to have a choice. We all have to be here for the reading of the will. Asteria left very specific instructions.”
I looked up, surprised. My mother had told me that we had to go to Sedgwick Cove to “make arrangements”, but I had just assumed that meant a wake and a funeral. The thought of a will had never even crossed my mind, probably because no one close to me had ever died before. I wondered for a moment if Asteria had thought to leave any little trinket to me, and then pushed the idea away. I raised a hand to the little bulge of the necklace under my shirt. It seemed to me, if Asteria knew she was sick, she had made sure to send me the one thing she really wanted to make sure I had.
