Chapter Forty-One

FORTY-ONE

OCTOBER 1987

Augusta’s hands trembled as she relayed the story. “I made Aunt Esther’s elixir that night. The same one she gave to your mother to help her decide whether to marry your father.”

“You thought it might make Irving want to propose?”

Augusta nodded. “It backfired terribly, of course.” Her voice shrank to a whisper. “Or maybe the elixir did exactly what it was supposed to do. Maybe that’s the real truth of what happened that evening. When Irving drank it, he realized that he loved Lois instead of me. Why else would he have left the restaurant so abruptly or proposed to Lois only days later?”

Jackie frowned. “Something about it doesn’t make sense. From everything my mother told me, Irving was clearly in love with you. ”

“Your mother wasn’t exactly objective—she was my sister, after all. Bess loved me far too much to believe that Irving could choose anyone over me. But Esther knew the elixir was dangerous. I should have followed her advice more closely. I should have been more patient. If I hadn’t been so reckless, maybe things would have turned out differently.”

“But, Aunt Augusta, you had no way of knowing. My god, you were only eighteen years old!”

“And now I’m eighty and none the wiser.” Augusta released a gloomy sigh. “History keeps repeating itself. I’m back in love with Irving Rivkin, and I still have no idea whether he feels the same.”

Jackie flashed a mischievous smile. “What if the two of us try to find out? Why don’t you finish your bagel? I’ll be back in a minute.”

The toasted bagel was hard and cold, so Augusta threw it in the trash. She was thinking about reheating her coffee in the microwave when Jackie returned carrying something so shocking that Augusta almost dropped her cup.

“Oh my god,” Augusta murmured. “Is that what I think it is?”

Jackie nodded. “It barely fit into my carry-on,” she said. “But there was no way I was going to check it. That’s why I had to bring two suitcases.” Jackie set Esther’s wooden apothecary case on top of Augusta’s kitchen counter.

Augusta forgot all about her breakfast. She forgot about the flowers and the cold coffee. “How long have you had this?”

“Mom gave it to me when she first got sick. She told me that Esther wanted you to have it, but after Esther died, you refused to take it. Mom couldn’t bear to throw it away, so she kept it for you, all these years.”

Augusta felt as if she’d traveled back in time. She was afraid to touch the polished wood, afraid that doing so would bring back all the anguish of that excruciating day. “Please,” she said to Jackie. “I don’t want it. Take it back home.”

Jackie looked as if she’d been slapped. “I don’t understand. I thought you’d be excited.” Jackie unfastened the latch and swung open the doors of the case so that Augusta could see inside. “The bottles and tins are the same,” she said. “But the herbs inside all of them are new. A friend of mine gave me the name of a homeopath in Chinatown. She went through the entire case and replaced every ingredient.”

“I appreciate all the trouble you went to, but I can’t keep this.”

“Before you make up your mind—I have something else to show you,” said Jackie. After a quick retreat to her bedroom, she returned with a compact bundle carefully wrapped in tissue paper.

Augusta didn’t need to unwrap the paper to know what was inside. She had dreamt of the objects for decades—the brass mortar, scattered with faded letters that rose upward in a spiral to the edge. The sturdy pestle, worn smooth with use, which had fit so perfectly between her aunt’s gnarled fingers. How many nights had Augusta watched Esther wield it, as if it were an extension of her own hand? When she pulled the paper off to reveal the set, they looked and felt just as she remembered.

“Come on, Aunt Augusta,” Jackie pleaded. “You admit that you’re in love with Irving. You want to know whether he’s in love with you, too.” Jackie gestured to the mortar and pestle. “Now you have the tools to find out.”