Page 73 of Bewitched & Bewildered
I am sure. Her other sisters are nowhere to be seen, andsomeone needs to help Juniper. This is another example of her trying to take care of everything alone.
For some reason, Laurel is more receptive to my suggestions than her sister’s. It takes both of us to keep her upright, but we get her in my truck with minimal fussing.
Hopefully, she doesn’t get sick in my backseat.
“You good back there?” I watch Laurel through the rearview mirror as I carefully drive through the streets.
Juniper sits beside me in the front; she hasn’t said anything since we started driving.
“Super good,” Laurel slurs, leaning against the window. “Do you know where my bed is?”
“It’s certainly not in this truck,” Juniper mutters.
“We’re almost home,” I say louder, hoping to overpower Juniper’s snarky answer.
Quick transportation is a small-town perk. The downfall is everything else—including the gossip that is sure to come. What will the townsfolk be more interested in: Laurel being drunk in public or Juniper and I?
It will be tough for them to pick which piece of gossip to focus on. Either way, the Hawthorne sisters are in for a frustrating week.
We park outside their home, and I help Laurel exit the backseat.
“I’m so excited for bed,” Laurel says.
The youngest Hawthorne would eat dirt if I didn’t help her down, but with my guiding hand, she manages to land on her feet. Juniper follows behind as I walk them to the front door. Laurel holds onto the wall, stumbling inside, and I reluctantly let her go.
“Come on in,” Laurel says.
With an open mouth, I turn to face Juniper. “I don’t haveto?—”
“I know,” Juniper says. “But I want you to. Come.”
My heart races. Does Juniper want me…inside her home? I can hardly process her words. I’ve been visiting the family shop since I was a kid, but I’ve never visited their home. It feels sacred.
From the outside, it’s a large, cozy, red house. There’s a porch swing, wildflowers on the grass, and several interesting gnomes.
But gods, she sounds exhausted. We’re all tired after the long day, but no one sounds as worn down as Juniper.
Laurel takes her shoes off and kicks them in opposite directions before collapsing on the couch.
I stand near the doorway, unsure where Juniper wants me.
“Thank you for this,” Juniper whispers, stepping closer. “Laurel is going through a lot right now…”
“I know she is,” I say. “So are you.”
She blinks. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” I should stop, but I can’t. “I see what you’re going through—all of you. But you? You’re going through it while taking care of everyone else. That’s a lot of pressure.”
She sighs slowly, and her eyes close. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
Touching Juniper is a one-way ticket to her swatting me away. I don’t bother with it. Something possesses me now. I touch her shoulder gently at first, and when she doesn’t shrug me off, I squeeze.
“It can’t be easy on you,” I say. “But you’re going to be okay.”
“I don’t…” Her voice breaks. “I don’t know if I am.”
This is the closest Juniper has come to breaking down in my presence. She’s still hanging on, but I want her to know she can let go. I’ll be there to catch her.
