CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Sage let herself into the shop late in the day. They'd closed early, when the foot traffic died with the weather and there was no point in standing around. Sage had wanted to get home and roast vegetables for the tart her mother had asked her to make for lunch tomorrow.

She'd done that task, and found herself still restless. Paula was holed up in her studio, working in a fever on a new clutch of songs. That was how she always worked, in big bursts of wild productivity, then long stretches of fallow time. She'd promised to emerge for lunch tomorrow with Liam, which was the important thing.

Left to her own devices, the ingredients for the tart ready for assembling in the morning, Sage walked in the gloomy day to the shop. A few figures wove around the edges, shapes but no details, like a painting, and it gave her a little shiver.

The shop was quiet, only Sage and the ghosts from the centuries. She'd thought of a selection of chocolates she wanted to bring to lunch, and now set about collecting them. She'd already assembled a box of the fruit-based chocolates her mother liked, and the cherry cordials, which were a particular specialty Sage had created just for her mother's delight. They'd eaten Christmas cordials for years, and Sage had come up with a few variations: cherry and black pepper, cherry and ginger, and her own favorite, cherry and saffron.

Those had already been gathered, along with the caramel treats Paula loved. Sage had no way of knowing what Liam would like, but her gut led her to citrus, lime, and coconut, and a strange little banana and bitter chocolate that people either loved or hated.

Hmm. Not quite finished. She let her hand hover over various flavors. Nothing over the usual favorites, pistachio, vanilla, and raspberry. There was a little more energy when she neared the chai and white chocolate, stronger still when she crossed the turmeric and ginger, and then her best invention so far: a concoction of rosemary and sage ganache with pecans enrobed in white chocolate colored blue and topped with glitter. It was unusual and delicious, and she was quite proud of it. She placed them in a box with the ones for Liam, and then let herself tune in to the subtle energies of the chocolates themselves. What else wanted to go with her?

The blood orange caramels, a few traditional truffles dusted with cocoa powder.

Anything else? She moved her hand in the air above the rows, hearing the leaping pleasure of candied violets and the deep, sophisticated voice of Mexican chili and dark chocolate.

The baby danced. Sage nestled the chocolates into a beautiful box, feeling a kind of exquisite joy that could sometimes steal upon her in her sobriety, a feeling she'd never understood or known to exist before, except maybe long ago in the days before her sister was lost to them.

She allowed herself to feel it, all of it—the baby, the creation of her hands, the cool air of the shop. Everything, so beautiful.

She didn't pray, but she sent out a thank-you. For now. This moment. Her life.

Today.