10. I’m Not Crying. You’re Crying. Shut Up

After we dropped off Gran, Mom and I went to Aunt Hester's home and found Uncle Andrew's car parked at the curb.

"Good. He didn't leave before we got here," Mom said.

Mom had just stepped onto the porch when Andrew opened the front door. He came out to kiss Mom's cheek and then nodded at me.

"Arwyn. Thank you." Returning his attention to my mom, he asked, "Do we know when Roger will be here?"

Mom checked her watch. "I thought he'd be here by now." She pulled her brother away from the open door and whispered, "Check the airlines and make sure there hasn't been an accident, or a hijacking, between here and Seattle."

Pulling out his phone, he sat on the porch swing while Mom and I went in to see Aunt Hester.

We found her sitting in near darkness, her chair under a reading lamp that hadn't been turned on. Curtains drawn, the only light in the living room came from the open bathroom door down the hall. She had a wadded-up tissue in one hand and stared down, dry-eyed, at Pearl's high school graduation photo in her other hand. The poor woman had cried every tear in her body. Desiccated, she was moments from blowing away.

"Let me get you some tea, dear," Mom said, walking to the kitchen.

I went to Hester and crouched down, pulling the photo and tissue from her grip. Her ex-husband was the Corey. Hester was a Goode, an old and well-respected wicche family. Pearl had inherited her father's dark hair and green eyes, but Hester was an assortment of pale colors. Light hair, light skin, light eyes, in faded pajama bottoms and a light gray hoodie. She bordered on transparency.

"Let's go out back." Standing, I pulled her up with me. When she tried to protest, to drop back down to the chair, I kept her upright. Fae strength meant she wasn't hitting the ground on my watch.

Keeping an arm firmly around her, I walked her to the door in the dining room that led to the back garden. When I opened it, she squinted at the still-bright early evening sky. Lifting an arm, she shaded her eyes. I considered just letting her sit on her porch but decided against it. She was too far from thriving, vibrant things.

I walked her to a garden bench under a huge crepe myrtle tree that was exploding with bright pink blossoms. Sitting beside her, I pulled out my phone.

"Aunt Hester, did anyone tell you we found Bridget's daughter?"

She didn't respond.

Resting the phone on the bench beside me, I pulled one of her hands between my two gloved ones. "Well, we did." I squeezed. "Do you know how I'm a Cassandra wicche?"

She nodded. Barely.

"It turns out Bridget's girl Sam is a necromancer."

Her brow furrowed as she took that in, still clearly not understanding why I was telling her this.

"Auntie Hester, are you listening?"

She looked up at me, eyes dull.

"I got a call from Sam last night. She had Pearl's spirit with her, and she wanted me to come here so Pearl could pass on a message to you. Okay?"

It was extraordinary, the way life and understanding and hope flooded back into Hester's gaze, and then she was the one gripping my hand.

"She asked me to come see you. I'm going to call Sam now and she can pass on Pearl's message, okay?"

Hester nodded, her eyes glowing.

I extricated one hand, swiped through my contacts, hit Sam and then the speakerphone.

It rang a few times and then, "Hey, Arwyn. Give me a minute. Owen?" she called. "Can you cover for me? I need to go in back for a bit." The sound changed, the background noise getting quieter.

We heard a growled, "Get out." Hester and I both jumped and then I shook my head grinning.

"That's Dave, her cook," I explained. "He's just grumpy."

"That he is," Sam said. "By the way, thanks for all the recipes you sent him. Those meringue cookies? Ridiculous." She was quiet for a moment. "Pearl? I'll ask. She wants to know if you have her mother with you?"

Like a miracle, tears began flowing from Hester's dry eyes.

"She's here. You're on speakerphone," I said.

Mom came out the back door and then stood still, not wanting to disturb what was happening.

"Okay," Sam said. "Everything I say now is Pearl. When I'm speaking as myself, I'll let you know. Go ahead. Your mom's listening… I love you, Mom. I'm so sorry. I was stupid to trust—"

"No," Hester said, grabbing the phone from my lap. "You've never been stupid. You're my brilliant, beautiful girl, the light of my life." She scrubbed at her streaming tears. "I'd give anything to change places with you. To take your pain. You're the one who should still be here."

"I need you to promise me something," Pearl said.

"Anything."

"I need you to take care of yourself, okay? I need you to live and be happy without me."

Hester shook her head, trying to hold back a sob. Finally, she choked out, "I can't."

"Maybe not now, but with time. You don't need to worry about me. I'm okay. There's no more pain or fear. I just worry about you now."

Hester took a minute, breathing slowly. When she finally spoke, her voice was steadier. "You don't have to worry about me. I'll be okay."

"Liar."

"Someday," Hester said.

"So, I was thinking," Pearl began, causing Hester to release a breath on an almost-laugh.

"Have you, now?" It felt like a familiar pattern between the two.

"Yes, and I've had a scathingly brilliant idea."

"Let's hear it," Hester said, smiling and weeping.

"That poor guy next door needs your help, and you need something to do. Plus, his daughter really needs a fairy garden."

Hester glanced over at a tall fence between her property and the one next door. "I don't know…"

"You don't have to. I know. They're a nice little family of two, just like us, and they could use your friendship and expertise. Besides, you need a project. Our garden is perfect. Theirs is sad. You could make sure the garden is safe for her and her dog to explore and play in."

Hester wiped at her face again. "Why does it matter?"

She was quiet for a while. "I don't know. I guess I just see things clearer on this side. I worried about so many things, avoided things that could have made me happy. I just want better for you. I want everything for you, Mom."

My heart hurt listening to them. Like my own mother and me, they were on their own, my Uncle Roger having left when Pearl was small. We had such a different relationship than these two, though. I looked up, wondering if Mom was as affected as I was and found the porch empty. She'd gone back inside.

"Promise me you'll try, okay? One of us needs to live a full, happy life, and that creep made sure it wasn't me."

"I'll try," Hester forced out.

"Please do. I love you, Mom."

"And I love you, my little one. So very much."

"And, Arwyn?"

"Yes," I said.

"Can you tell the detectives I remember the name of the restaurant we went to. It was the High Tide."

"I'll tell them," I promised.

After a long pause, we heard, "It's Sam again. I'm very sorry for your loss, ma'am."

Hester nodded, a fingertip tracing the edge of my phone case. She didn't want to let go.

"Thank you, Sam. I'm sure we'll talk again soon." I reached over to hit the end button and then waited, wanting Hester to do it.

She didn't. Sam disconnected and then Hester reluctantly handed me my phone back.

"She said she didn't hurt anymore," Hester said. "I can't stop thinking about her final moments, the pain and fear, and I wasn't there to stop it, to save my baby."

"Which is why," I said, wrapping my arm around her, "she stuck around to make sure you knew she was okay. You don't have to keep torturing yourself with that moment. She's moved past it and wants you to as well."

Hester nodded but didn't seem convinced.

"And remember," I went on, "Aunt Sylvia and Aunt Bridget are first in line, waiting to greet her and show her the ropes."

Hester leaned into me and the floodgates opened. I was just about to text my mom and ask for tissues when she came out the back door with a box of them and a steaming cup of tea. She placed the box in Hester's lap and the cup in mine, so I could balance it for her.

Patting Hester's shoulder, Mom said, "Roger's plane has landed. He's going to our mother's, but he'll come see you tomorrow so you can discuss arrangements." Expression strained, she turned and went back in, all without ever looking at me. I murmured soothing nothings while staring at the closed back door.

Eventually, I got Hester to drink some tepid tea and talked her into taking a shower. She needed to wash off the horrible combination of anguish and ennui.

While she got cleaned up and changed, I looked for Uncle Andrew and my mother, not finding them where I'd assumed they'd be—in the living room. I peered out the front window and saw both cars were gone. Shaking my head and blowing out a breath, I checked my phone. Sure enough, there was a text from Mom saying she had to go to Gran's to see Uncle Roger and I should call a cab or that wolf for a ride home.

Aunt Hester lived too far away for what I felt like doing: angry stomping home. I checked Hester's freezer. As I suspected, there were lots of sorrow casseroles, none of which looked great. When I heard Hester's slippers shuffling down the hall, I closed the freezer door and met her in the living room.

"You need food," I said. "Me too, come to that. I can heat up one of the dishes in your freezer or I can order something better to be delivered."

"I'm not hungry, sweetheart. You don't need to stay with me." She glanced around the room. "Is your mom waiting for you in the car?" She curled up in the same chair I'd found her in when we'd arrived.

I sat on the arm of the couch. "No. Mom had to leave."

Hester smiled softly. "Pearl always sat like that." Her brow furrowed. "But I thought you didn't drive. How will you get home?" She glanced around again. "I can take you." She stood and went to her purse in the entryway.

I considered telling her I could call for a ride, but she was more animated, showed more purpose, than I'd seen since I'd arrived.

"That'd be great," I said. "How about if we stop for food on the way and you can eat with me at the gallery."

I felt a No coming, so I added, "I'd really love for you to see it, if you're interested."

She looked down at herself. "I guess I should get changed."

"Nah. Maybe just your shoes so you can drive safely. The rest of it, you don't need to worry about." She was wearing a clean pair of faded pajamas with an oversized hoodie and house scuffs.

While she went to her room to put on real shoes, I checked the locks and grabbed her handbag. She found me by the hall door to the garage. Taking her bag from me, she opened the door and waited for me to go first.

"I know a great burger place on the way home. I can run in and get us dinner."

Shaking her head, she opened the drivers' side door. "I don't need—"

I cleared my throat, and she looked over the top of her car at me. I stared back, eyebrows raised, waiting for her to remember her promise to Pearl.

Finally, she nodded and got in. "I could eat."