Page 62 of The Pumpkin Spice Spell
I exhale slowly and close the box. “Hi, Mom. Didn’t realize I couldn’t come home or be in my own room.”
She breezes in wearing a cream blouse and navy slacks with way too much perfume that enters the room even before she does. She's holding a clipboard as if it's practically a weapon.
“I made a list,” she says, handing it to me. “The realtor said the siding needs pressure washing. The front stairs should probably be repaired...again. And the faucet in the downstairs bathroom is still dripping. Honestly, I don’t know what you’ve been doing all these years.”
My jaw flexes.I take the paper, glance at it, then set it down on the desk. “Yeah, I’m not doing any of that.”
Her brows shoot up. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not your handyman, Mom. I’m your son. And I’ve paid to maintain this house for five years. Taxes, insurance, the plumber, the HVAC guy. Every damn thing. And now you’reselling it. With barely any notice, and certainly no reward or even a thank you. So…yeah. I’m not doing that just so you can take everything away from me that Dad worked hard for.”
She blinks as if she’s shocked at my response. Like she expected the quiet kid who always did what she told him to do, not the man who’s finally done playing polite.
“You knew this day would come,” she says coolly. “It’s not like this house was ever going to be yours.”
I turn and she follows me down the stairs and out onto the porch. I want to just leave and never come back, but I can’t.
“No, you’re right. I did know,” I say, standing, voice steady. “But I took care of it for you. But you didn’t care. You just come here with your new family and treat me like the guest.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but something behind me catches her attention.
I turn and look at the street.
Lilith Maren is walking by the front hedge, carrying a paper bag. She sees us and slows just a little, gaze landing on my mother like she’s surprised she's still here.
Lilith’s wearing a long cardigan the color of burned sugar and boots with a heel sharp enough to kill a man. Her hair’s pinned up, messy and perfect, and when she sees the look on my mother’s face—part confusion, part disdain—she smiles.
Not a kind smile.Abeautifully terrifyingone.“Well,” Lilith says lightly, stopping by the gate, staring up. “Good to see you, too, April.”
My mother narrows her eyes.
“You’re glowing,” Lilith adds sweetly. “Stress must suit you.”
I nearly choke.
Lilith tips her head toward me. “Tate, darling. I’m making pumpkin bread with sea salt caramel glaze. Come by if you need a snack or a place to hide.”
“Thanks,” I say, voice rough. “I might take you up on that.”
She nods once, then continues down the sidewalk, the scent of her passing, something warm and woodsy, lingering in the air like smoke after a spell.
My mother exhales sharply. “She’s always been so conniving.”
“She’s kind,” I correct.
April turns back to me, clipboard forgotten. “You always did like that family more.”
“I always enjoyed feelingseen and wanted,” I shoot back.
It lands like a slap.She says nothing.
I tuck the box under my arm. I don’t need the house. I have a fresh start here.
Chapter 19
Willa
Every time I think I’ve got you figured out, you surprise me. And I love that more than I can explain.
