Chapter 27 Sam

A fter taking off my makeup and pulling on my pajamas, I sat down at the little altar table Zin had gifted to me and set out two tealights. One for Hera and one for Aphrodite. I didn't do deity work often, but after a night like this one, I needed to pay my respects to whomever was responsible for the giddy feeling I was currently experiencing, and they seemed like a good place to start.

Thank you thank you thank you . Because what?!

Tonight was a scene worthy of Matthew McConaughey or Sandra Bullock.

The pessimist who lived in my head was trying so hard to throw a wrench into my dizzy, bubbly emotions, but for once, I told that bitch to shut up.

I'D EXPECTED DINNER with Aunt Zin to be a lot of I told you so's, though she would say it in the most loving way possible, but that's not what I got. She'd asked and accepted the summary I gave her of Jesse's and my date, and she didn't even roll her eyes when I asked about her artist "friend," who apparently was a lovely human and had painted Zin a gorgeous landscape of Lake Eerie under a full moon.

The day of the festival was chaos, and Zin and I got started at 6am. I'd made sure to tell myself in the mirror that morning that good things happen to good people and did not mean that they were too good to be true.

Take that, pessimist.

Neither of us were morning people. Happily, Jesse was, and he was at the park already setting up for his dad and offered to help.

"Are you going to wear the witch hat tonight?"

"Obviously. It makes me look mystical. Want me to order one for you?"

"I'm not sure I have the bone structure to pull it off. But you will look adorable. Can I come by for a reading?"

"Oh no. Absolutely not."

"Really? Why? I thought the last one went great."

"It did, but I don't want to tempt fate with the chance to fuck things up by throwing up some vaguely ominous cards. You stay far away from my table unless it's to escort me to rides and or food."

"Understood." He nodded and made his way back to his own booth across the park.

I had the raffle bowl, crystals, a few decks, some lovely, handcrafted jewelry we'd just started carrying from a local artist, and I was honestly just excited. It was Zin's shop, but the booth set-up, the new business cards, the new products— those were from me, and it felt right to have something that was mine again. The official start of the Golden Harvest Festival was soon, so I started shuffling my cards, got my hat on, and double-checked everything once more.

Once the crowd started to thicken, I lost track of time. I did more readings than I'd anticipated, and we were on the third page of our email list sign-up when we finally hit a lull in traffic. I took a minute to ground myself. My own energy tended to seep out the more readings I did, and I hadn't been in the zone that long in years. Or ever. I knew I needed to be done soon and just focus on being a salesperson again. I rolled my shoulders when a familiar energy rolled over me. It was the feeling of sand on the beach that was just slightly too hot when it hit your skin.

"Mom?" I asked aloud, whipping my head around to find my mother, the critically acclaimed Nora Marsh, standing in my booth, looking at the crystal display. Her cinnamon and sugar hair was pulled back into a loose braid, and she was dressed in her signature all-black. " People should focus on my art, not my clothes," was her explanation when I asked her why she always looked like she was attending a funeral.

"In the flesh."

"What are you... I mean hi!" I moved in to give her a hug, and she squeezed me tight like I was a child. I tried desperately to visualize my shields before I engaged with her. I needed to be able to remain detached from whatever she was going to say during this visit. It was weak though; I could feel it barely coming together.

"Well, when you either ignore my texts or send two-word responses, this is the outcome. Plus, I haven't been to the Harvest Festival in a long time, so I thought it was the perfect time for a quick visit."

"I'm sorry. I've been preoccupied with getting the new systems at the shop in place and preparing for this... but I should have texted."

My mother just hummed at me, and that usually meant that she wasn't pleased but wasn't going to argue about it.

"Do you want to do a reading for me?"

"Oh, I was just cleaning up. I'm spent after reading for strangers all day. But another time, sure. How long are you here for?"

"Just through tomorrow. I leave for a show in Colorado on Wednesday, so I need to pack and get ready for that."

My mother was a former starving artist turned quite successful artist in the last ten years or so. Her eyes assessed me, and I pushed everything I had left into that shield, only for it to wobble. I saw Zin making her way back to our booth after having gone to visit some other local businesses, and she looked wary upon her approach.

"Nora, this is a surprise," she said in greeting, opening her arms to hug my mother.

She got the same spiel about my failure to answer texts and a repeat of the rest of the information.

"Well, you'll have to come over for brunch tomorrow before you head home." My mother agreed pleasantly before turning back to me.

"Let's walk down by the lake before you have to get back to work." The way she said work was the way I'd imagine a chef with a Michelin star would refer to fast food chicken.

I joined her in sauntering through the maze of booths and food trucks toward the lake until she came to a stop at a bench.

"So, Samantha, what is your plan?"

She tried to sound interested and encouraging, but I knew it was killing her not to just tell me exactly what I was doing wrong. My mother loved me, but I triggered things in her that made our relationship difficult at times.

"For tonight? I'm going to ride some rides and have a big pretzel." Her eyes narrowed slightly, knowing exactly what I was doing.

"And after tonight?"

I sighed, resigned to this conversation. "I don't know, Mother. I'm in an okay place right now, and that's enough for me."

"The idea was for this to be a temporary landing place, no? That's what you told me, anyway, but maybe I'm not privy to changes in that plan. And can you take off that hat? It's very hard to take you seriously."

Here we go.

I slid the hat off my head and smoothed my hair. "That was the plan. I don't know if it is anymore. I'm happy for the first time in a long time, and—"

"It makes you happy to work retail and live in my aunt's guest house?"

I winced at her words. Because she had a way of twisting whatever I said to help prove whatever point she was trying to make.

"Mom. Just tell me what you want from me. I don't want to do this. I'm tired."

"Hey!" a voice came from behind me.

No. Please, just not right now.

I mustered the brightest smile I could before I turned around.

"Hey, Jesse. You remember my mother?"

"Oh, wow, yeah, it's been a while. Good to see you again Ms. Marsh."

"Please, call me Nora."

"Well, I was coming to see if you had a break and wanted to go ride some rides, but I didn't realize your mom was in town. Just let me know if you want to do any of them later, yeah?"

His open expression and genuine smile melted me a little inside because that was the only thing I wanted to be doing right now.

"I'll text you," I answered softly.

He just nodded and walked away. She barely even waited until he was out of earshot.

" Really , Samantha? You're sticking around this town with no plan because of the Garrett kid? Again? You are smarter than that."

"Mom, it's not like that. I'm not staying here for him . There wasn't even a ‘ him' until a couple of days ago—"

"I realize that you're twenty-four, and there is very little that I can do to keep you from making a colossal mistake. But know that you were not made for a small life, and that's what this town is. You are a lovely writer, a painter— you have so many talents that could feed your soul if you were dedicated to them. This? Here? This is not for you. And Zinnia is an enabler. She's wonderful, but you are not her, Sam. She had her years of being wild and free before she settled down with my Uncle Linden. You haven't done that. You can't just come here and think you'll be satisfied working in that shop, throwing away your chance at making something of yourself on a pretty boy like Jesse Garrett, who is going nowhere now that his baseball career is over."

It was like she had physically slapped me. The tears were already overflowing, and I tried to wipe them away with the palm of my hand to no avail.

"Why is me being happy not enough, Mom?" I whispered.

Her eyes half-rolled at me in response, cutting even deeper.

"You're being dramatic. If I thought this could make you happy, I'd throw you a party. I'm only trying to save you from yourself. My offer stands... if you want to come home and figure things out there, without the influence of your aunt, I'd love to help you find something that's worth your time and energy."

"Right."

I couldn't argue anymore. She might as well have stuck me with a pin and deflated me.

"Just think about it. I'll see you at brunch tomorrow." She reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear that had fallen from my braid, and it took everything I had not to flinch.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

She walked away, apparently satisfied that she'd really shown me the error of my ways. In reality, all she'd accomplished was making me want to crawl in a hole. What I wanted at that moment was for Jesse to come back, wrap his arms around me, and let me complain about how awful my mother was to me.

And to him... she had no fucking right to talk about him like that .

But running to him felt like exactly what she'd said. That I was throwing myself into this thing with him to avoid making plans, figuring out my shit. And I hated that.

SAM: Hey. Could you drop me at my house? I came with Zin, and I need to go home.

LAUR: Of course. I'm on the carousel, but I'll meet you at the entrance when I'm done. Everything okay?

SAM: I'm okay. Just need to get out of here.

LAUR: See you in 5

I shot off another text to Zin to tell her I had to go home. She just wrote back that we would talk later and not to worry about the booth and that the neighbor boys were going to help break down everything.

Great. Now I'm not even capable of following through with the one thing that was mine. My vision, my plan.

The sting of failure and disappointment lingered and showed no signs of retreating anytime soon.

No matter what, it's never quite enough.

I heaved myself off the bench and tried to be invisible as I wove my way back through the festival to get to the parking lot. I just needed to get to someplace quiet to re-ground myself and cry for a good solid hour.

JESSE: Hey. Laur told me you needed to go home. I hope everything is okay. You know you could have asked me to drive you, right? Text me later if you want to hang out.

Another tear forced its way out and slipped down my cheek because this was what I'd always wanted. To be in Emberwood doing fun witchy shit with my aunt, hanging out with Lauren, and being with Jesse. Just because I'd been a teenager when I wanted it didn't make it less real, did it?

Is a "small life" even a bad thing?

It sounded like a bad thing. Between the energy suck of reading all day plus the energy suck that was my mother, I knew I couldn't think big, heavy thoughts right now. I saw Lauren up ahead talking to someone, and I slowed my pace, hoping she'd be done before I reached them and had to fake cheerfulness in front of a stranger.

They both seemed to register my presence at the same time because they cut their conversation short.

"It was wonderful to see you, Laur. I'm serious about doing that piece about you and the salon, so email me."

"Will do, thanks Christy." The woman turned to walk away, only giving me a cursory glance.

My eyes snapped to Lauren, who just shook her head slightly and mouthed, " car ." My tears were almost forgotten, and a whole new feeling crept up because that was, without a doubt, Christy Covington, and I was in no state to filter out the pessimist in my brain at this moment.

She is still stupidly gorgeous, like a Midwest Barbie. Does she still live here... like does Jesse see her on a regular basis. Are they friends?

I wanted to vomit.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

I practically flung myself into the passenger seat of Lauren's car and put my head on the dash, willing myself to return to the fluttery happy me that I was two hours ago.

"What happened?" Lauren asked.

"No, no. Christy first," I insisted.

"Christy is inconsequential. She and Jesse broke up years ago when he was a freshman in college, and to my knowledge, that was that. She lives in Toledo and is here for the festival. She's writing about it in her lifestyle blog. Now, what happened?"

"She has a lifestyle blog?" I briefly wondered if it was called Musings of a Midwest Barbie .

"She does. We can search through it later. What the hell is going on, Sam?"

"My mother showed up unannounced."

"Ughhhhhhhh, fucking Nora." There was no love lost between Lauren and my mom. "What did she do?"

I gave her a summary and almost managed to do it without crying, but I left out the insult about Jesse because I thought that might lead to murder.

"And now I have to have brunch with her tomorrow."

"Zin will be there, though, right?"

"Yeah. But Zin has always been weird when it comes to my mom. I think she doesn't want to step on her toes or something, but I really wish she would. Her whole foot even."

Lauren was quiet for a minute as we neared the house.

"Do you want to hear my opinion?"

"I do, Laur, but I don't think I can handle any more opinions today. I just need to think."

She nodded her understanding and pulled into Zin's driveway. When I finally made it to my room, my back hit the door, and I slid to the floor before a sob worked its way out from my chest.