AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“My mother called today.” I stared at my menu. “She saw the Washer Woman in a dream.”
Bree took a breath. “Do you know who?”
I shook my head. “No, we don’t. Not yet.”
Bree and I had gone to the same high school together in Port Townsend. Then, she signed up for junior college to get her AA in business, while I attended a four-year college. We had been best friends then, and had stayed best friends, even after she moved to Starlight Hollow. She was one of the few who knew what I’d been through and she’d been there for me every step of the way.
“There’s something else,” Bree said. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“You’re not wrong there.” I paused as the waitress brought our drinks and filled our water glasses.
“Would you like to order now?” she said.
I glanced at Bree, who nodded. “Yes, please. I want a twelve-ounce ribeye, medium rare, with extra butter, and add a lobster tail. Mashed potatoes and gravy, on the side. I’ll have the fried calamari to start.”
The waitress wrote my order down and turned to Bree. “And for you?”
“Lobster mac ’n cheese. A side salad with that, please. And to begin with, mozzarella sticks.” Bree handed her menu to the waitress and waited until the woman walked away. “So, tell me what’s up. Every time your mother calls, you want to go out to dinner or coffee.”
I stirred my mocha. “Do I? Well, that shouldn’t surprise me. I know she’s worried about me—and gods know, she has reason to be. I fell apart after Rian died.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Bree said. “You shut down, girl. You closed everything down and we were all worried you were going to kill yourself. I’m just being real about it.”
I stared at my plate. “I did shut down. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“Listen,” Bree said. “Nobody else was there. Nobody can fully understand what horrors you went through. But in the aftermath, we had to sit on the sidelines and watch, and you didn’t want us helping you to pick up the pieces. You might consider cutting your mom and aunt some slack.”
After a long sip of my mocha, I finally caved. “All right. I get it—I know why she’s checking up on me.”
“She calls me, too, to check on you, you know.” Bree rolled her eyes, but she didn’t sound put out by it. “I tell her you’re fine and busy.”
“I didn’t realize she was doing that.” I wiped the foam off my lip. Maybe I was playing the hermit too much. My mother had been nothing but helpful during the crisis, and she had been there for me every step of the way while I was recovering. “Okay, I get it. I’ll call her later and have a long talk to reassure her. But that’s not why I asked you to dinner. Something else has come up and I need some advice.”
The waitress appeared with our appetizers. Bree waited till she left. “What happened?”
I picked up my fork and stabbed one of the calamari, popping it in my mouth, then reached for my purse. “This came today. It’s from my great-grandma. She lives on the island of Skye. My father’s grandmother.” I pulled the letter out of my purse and handed it to her.
She took it and began reading:
My great-granddaughter Elphyra:
Your mother told me what happened to you last year. She also told me that you have moved out and bought a home. You should have come to me yourself with the news. But whatever the case, I am coming to stay with you for a while until I know that you’re all right. You don’t heal up quickly from ordeals such as you went through, but you’re a MacPherson and of strong stock. There are triggers in our family that can skew your powers in the wrong direction. I’ll be there in a matter of weeks. There will be no discussion—this is my word, and as the matriarch of the family clan, you will welcome me into your home. Your great-gm, Morgance
Bree glanced over the top of the page at me. “I hope your guest room’s ready.”
“You don’t think I can convince her to give up her plans?” I knew the answer but needed to hear someone who knew my family weigh in on it.
Bree snorted. “The only way you’re going to get out of this is to offer to fly over and stay with her, and somehow, I don’t think you’re ready for that.”
“No,” I said. “I have no idea what she’ll think of my house. The cottage isn’t that big, but at least I have a guest room for her.”
“Does she know you have tattoos?” Bree finished her mozzarella sticks as the waitress showed up with our dinners. She set the plates in front of us.
I sighed. “Can I get a lemonade?” The waitress nodded, then headed toward the back. “No, she doesn’t. I have no idea what she’ll think.”
Both of my arms were covered—full sleeves of beautiful tattoos that all wove together. A grotto, flowers, and fly agaric, a tortie cat to commemorate the cat of my heart who had been with me twelve years before she died. It had happened all too suddenly and she died in my arms, with me cradling her, not understanding what was happening.
The vet performed a necropsy and found that she had succumbed to a rare kidney disease that presented when it was too late for treatment. Other images wove in—symbols representing Danu and the Dagda. A dragon. And a candle sitting on a skull with roses surrounding it—my newest one. That one had hurt bone-deep—and had left emotional scars. That tattoo was in memory of Rian, my late fiancé.
