Page 99 of Heir of Uncertain Magic

“As a writer.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all!” She released him long enough to dry her eyes on her apron, then squeezed his fingers again. “You always had an imagination.”

He told her aboutA Pauper in the MakingandThe Path of Rubies, as well as the articles he’d written. Where he’d stayed in New York, and how surprised he’d been to hear from his grandmother’s lawyer. He told her the house was enchanted, which shocked her, and related stories about it, though he didn’t disclose the Silas Hogwood business—that could be a tale for another day.

Another day. He could haveanother daywith her.

“And you?” He squeezed back. “What have you been doing?”

“Oh, not much. Just keeping the house. We had a bake sale last week to raise funds for the church—it went well.”

“You made poppyseed bread.”

She laughed. “Yes! Yes, I did!”

He grinned. “That was always my favorite.”

She nodded, eyes tearing. “I know. I know it was.” She turned and wiped her eyes on her shoulders so she wouldn’t have to let go of Merritt. “Knee’s been acting up the last few years, especially with the cold weather—”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“Oh yes, but it’s just fine.” She chuckled.

“And Scarlet? Beatrice?”

Her face fell, and for a moment, Merritt panicked. But then she said, “They’re good. Both good. Oh, Merritt, I tried to write to you, back then”—she ran a knuckle under her eye—“but Peter wouldn’t have any of it. He forbade all of us. When I pushed ... he never left me, even when I made ... mistakes.” She glanced away in shame—it was the most acknowledgment of her affair with Sutcliffe he’d probably get from her. “He threatened he would go through with it if I persisted in trying to write you. And how was I to choose between the love for my husband and the love for my son?” Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears; Merritt squeezed her hands. “In the end, a woman can’t survive around here without a man’s support. Oh, Merritt.” She closed her eyes, letting a few tears fall. “I’m so sorry.”

Throat tight, Merritt rubbed the back of her hand. “I waited thirteen years to come back. I could have tried sooner.”

His mother merely shook her head. “I didn’t know where you’d gone, after you left the Portendorfers’. Ruth gave me an address—I did get one letter out—but I never heard a thing. I thought it would blow over, but it never did ...”

Clearing his throat, Merritt tried again. “My sisters?”

“Oh, yes.” She lifted her head. Wiped her eyes and steadied herself. “Married. S-Scarlet is in Albany with her three littles—all boys. And Beatrice got married, oh, almost seven years ago.” She squeezed his hands tighter, almost to the point of hurting, and he realized why her expression had turned so sad. Because he’d missed it. He’d missed all of it. “They moved to Concord. She has two little girls, Bethany and Maggie.” She paused. “You haven’t seen them at all, have you?”

He shook his head. “No. I ... I didn’t know.”

“They’ll want to see you,” she assured him, and the words were a bandage around his heart. “Of course they’ll want to see you.”

Her grip loosened, and she turned his left hand around. Clucked her tongue. “Not married yet?”

Merritt smiled. “No. But there is someone.”

His mother bounced in her seat, eliciting another laugh from him. “Tell me! Tell me who she is!”

“Her name is Hulda Larkin,” he said. “She’s the housekeeper I mentioned, who helped me with Whimbrel House.”

Her mouth parted into an O. She released him and swatted his arm. “Your housekeeper!”

“I promise I’ve been perfectly decent!” he protested with a grin. “I think you would like her. She’s very ... polite.”

“Very polite and interested in you? You’re spinning stories again.” She grinned. “I want to meet her. What does she look like? I want to imagine her—”

The front door opened, letting in a burst of cold air. Both Merritt and his mother froze, speech cut through.

The chill from the draft seeped into Merritt’s every pore.

His father’s footsteps sounded heavier than he remembered them as he trudged into the front room, kicking the door shut behind him. Merritt’s back was to that room.

---