Chapter 15

15

Harlow pulledher Subaru into the driveway next to the blue Mustang and took a deep breath before heading into the house. After walking in on Imogen and Shaun, Harlow dreaded the awkwardness and the necessary conversation she knew that Imogen wouldn’t want to have.

There was just no way around it. Harlow was in a no-win situation. If Imogen was acting out of character, Harlow had no choice but to question everything. After last year’s fiasco, how could she not?

The house was quiet and smelled like pine cleaner. The wine glasses and the broken plate from the night before had been cleared, and the coffee table shined as if Imogen had dusted.

Harlow smiled to herself. As far as roommates went, she could do worse. “Imogen?” she called as she walked into the kitchen. The sink was empty, and the counters gleamed. But Imogen didn’t answer her call and was nowhere to be found. After quickly checking the rest of the house, she found Imogen’s bedroom door open, the bed made, and the only thing out of place was a notebook that had been left on her bed.

Frowning, Harlow retreated back to the living room and then eventually outside. It was a gorgeous spring day. Maybe she was outside tinkering in the neglected garden.

No such luck. Harlow was just about to text Imogen when she heard a rustling coming from the woods just behind the house. She looked up just in time to see Imogen emerge from the trees carrying a tote bag on one shoulder. “Hey, where’ve you been?” Harlow asked.

“Out at the waterfall, taking advantage of magical energy.” Imogen swept past her and entered the house through the back door.

“Wait, what?” Harlow called as she hurried after her sister. “What were you doing dabbling with magical energy?”

“I am a witch,” Imogen said dismissively as she reached into the tote and placed the white pillar candles onto the kitchen table. A familiar journal that had belonged to their grandmother followed, along with a bag of assorted herbs.

“Of course you are,” Harlow said, more confused than ever. “But you’ve repeatedly told me that you don’t want to have anything to do with magic or ghosts.”

“I know what I said. I’m allowed to change my mind, aren’t I?”

“Well, yes, but what changed?”

She shrugged. “I guess being in Keating Hollow yesterday and seeing the charming magic of the town has convinced me that not all magic is bad. Besides, these spells don’t have anything to do with ghosts.” Imogen opened the journal and flipped to the middle of the book. Holding it out for Harlow she said, “If I’m going to hang out my shingle to be a wedding planner, I’m going to need to brush up on some of these enchantment spells.”

“Yesterday you said that if I was going to be involved with ghosts when I was needed that you were going to have to move. Did you change your mind on that, too?” Harlow asked, feeling as if she were completely out of the loop. None of what Imogen was saying made sense to her.

Imogen waved a hand as if dismissing the comment. “I said that in the heat of the moment. Obviously, you have to help if you’re needed. I just don’t want to be a part of it. So the sooner I get my business up and running, the sooner I can get my own place. Then you can do your thing and I’ll do mine.”

Harlow bit down on her bottom lip, wondering exactly what that meant. “So what are you saying? That once you move out we won’t be in each other’s lives anymore?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Harlow,” Imogen said, rolling her eyes. “I just don’t want to be around when you’re dealing with ghosts. That will be easier if I have my own space.”

“Okay, good.” Harlow let out a long breath as the tension drained from her shoulders. It was a fact that Imogen had been helping Harlow at the estate when that ghost possessed her. Maybe this new plan would be just the thing to help them both move forward in their lives.

Harlow scanned the spell in question. It was an old one that charmed butterflies to behave on command, and it had been passed down through the family for generations. It was primarily used during a celebration when the spell caster wanted the butterflies to hang around on something like flowers growing on an arbor. Then they were released during a toast or when the newlyweds departed for their honeymoon. Harlow had seen it used a few times, and the effect was beautiful. Harlow looked up at her sister. “Did you get it to work?”

“Sure,” she said with a nod. “There were two butterflies that came when I called to them, and then they seemed happy to move from flower to flower until I thanked them and released them from the spell. The best part is that they both hung around for a while. One even landed on my finger and fluttered her wings for a few moments to show off her electric-blue coloring.”

“I wish I’d been there for that,” Harlow said, moving into the kitchen to finally make herself something to eat. She grabbed a glass of orange juice and then turned to her sister. “Are you hungry? I’m going to make waffles and maybe some bacon if we have any.”

Imogen glanced at the clock. It was already past twelve. “You haven’t had breakfast yet? Don’t the Moses boys keep any food in that house?”

A weird energy passed between them when Imogen mentioned Cash and Shaun.

Harlow took a long sip of the juice and then cleared her throat. “Yes, they do. Cash was going to make me some breakfast, but I decided I’d rather eat here with you and catch up on the past twenty-four hours.”

Imogen rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing to catch up on. You already know more details than you should. Can’t we just let this go?”

“I want to, trust me,” Harlow said, “but it just isn’t like you to have a one-night stand.”

“I’m twenty-eight years old, Harlow. I don’t think we need to be having this discussion.” Imogen slapped the journal closed. “Are you going to question everything I do for the rest of my life?”

Again, there was a long silence before Harlow said, “No. But after what happened last year, I just need to make sure I’m not missing anything again. That the ghost hasn’t come back and⁠—”

“Possessed me?” Imogen asked, her voice ice cold. “That’s ludicrous, Harlow. I’m hardly acting like Crazy Cora. I’d think my own sister could tell the difference.”

“Imogen, please don’t get upset. I just wanted to check in with you to make sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, okay? Now you can stop judging me for sleeping with Shaun.” She started putting her candles back in the tote.

“I’m not judging you, Gen,” Harlow said softly. “I just don’t want to make the same mistakes I made last year. With Shaun staying over and you doing magic today, can’t you at least see that both of those things are out of character for you? At least from my perspective.”

Imogen ground her teeth together. “I already told you why I was practicing magic. Doing harmless spells is hardly going to invite a crazytown ghost into my orbit. Cora would in no way be interested in butterflies or fireflies or the dancing gnomes.”

“Dancing gnomes?” Harlow asked, trying to picture a scenario where a bride would want animated gnomes.

“I saw it on a wedding blog, okay? People are into all kinds of things,” she said, waving a hand. “Forget the gnomes. And as far as Shaun goes, if you must know, last night was not a one-night stand. Are you happy now?”

Harlow blinked, trying to process her sister’s words. “Are you dating Shaun?”

“No… yes… I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Again, this isn’t your business, Harlow. Why can’t you just let me live my life?”

“Because the last time I did that, you were possessed by a ghost. And when I didn’t realize it, you blamed me for not doing anything!” Harlow said hotly. “Listen, Gen, I understand that you’re angry about what went down. I am too. But you can’t be mad at me for checking on you to make sure that it doesn’t happen again. Don’t you see how this puts me in a no-win situation? And for the record, if you’re sleeping with Shaun, it is my business. Cash is my—” She clamped her mouth shut, not sure what to say about Cash. They’d only just decided to try to work things out, and after a year apart, it felt weird to call him her boyfriend again.

“Your what, Harlow?” Imogen asked with her eyes narrowed.

“My person,” she finally said. “Shaun is his brother and if you two are involved, then that affects us, too.”

“I don’t see how,” her sister said stubbornly. “What Shaun and I do or don’t do really isn’t about you or Cash at all. But if you must know, last night wasn’t the first time we’ve been together. I doubt it will be the last. As for labeling our relationship, we just haven’t given it one, all right? Is that enough for you? Or do you need to know that this started about two months ago when Shaun came to Napa for a brief vacation?” Imogen pushed her hair out of her eyes and continued. “And before you ask, it’s still in the beginning stages, and neither of us knew the other was going to be here. Can’t say I’m mad he showed up, though.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been together?” Harlow asked, her mind reeling.

“No.” Imogen let out a humorless chuckle. “What else do you want to know? Exactly how many times we’ve slept together, or is a rough estimate enough? Maybe where we were when he first kissed me? How about the first time he called, acting like he was worried about you and Cash, but instead he was really checking on me? Or how he’d call every couple of days, and we became friends first, and then things just progressed from there? Do you need a time, date, and location of the first time he felt me up?”

“That’s enough,” Harlow said coolly. “You know what I meant. I was never looking for intimate details. Only an update on your relationship. Do whatever you want, Gen. I won’t bother you again.” She turned on her heel and stalked toward the back door. Just as she was leaving, she heard her sister call after her.

“Finally! Now I can get to work on my website. The sooner I get the business up and running, the sooner I’ll be on my own where people don’t just walk into my bedroom without knocking!”

Harlow ground her teeth together, refusing to engage any further. For the past year, all she’d wanted was to protect her sister. What had she gotten in return? Anger and resentment. Now she was done. She couldn’t live her life for someone else and never should have tried.