Page 11 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
“That was his third book,” Jasper said.
“Yes. The first two books were a little bumpy, but in book three, he really hit his stride with the mystery and intrigue. And the descriptions of Morocco… gosh. I’ve always wanted to go there because of Mom.”
“I remember. Chefchaouen, right?”
“Yes. There were even scenes written in Mom’s hometown. Just reading the book, it was like I could smell the air and feel the humidity. Practically transcendent. And Marcello—I went to one of his speaking engagements when he came to the city. Wonderful.”
Jasper furrowed his brow. “He’s a little too ‘mystical guru’ for me.”
“Really? I think he’s insightful. He teaches all these lessons with beautiful subtlety in his books, so it’s nice to have him say things directly when he gives talks.”
“I prefer subtlety. Not everything needs to be beaten over a person’s head.”
“Rosie would agree with you. She enjoys the books, but doesn’t like his personal ramblings.”
“How is Rose?” he asked. “Is she doing okay?”
“She’s fine. In love with Jillian, her partner. They’ve been together… two years, now? They met on the patio of a coffee shop because the waiter accidentally switched their orders. It’s a really cute story—well, except that Rosie’s wallet ended up getting stolen that same day. But even with that, Jill helped her out, and they hit it off instantly. Rosie is working as a family lawyer in the city. She loves her job, has a fab apartment. She’s doing great.”
“Sounds like she has the perfect life,” Jasper observed.
“Well, almost. She’s weirdly had her identity stolen a few times. It’s annoying, but she doesn’t let it get her down. You know Rosie. Unshakable.”
“She is. And that kind of thing happens a lot these days.”
“Yeah, unfortunately,” Violet said. “She wants to introduce Jill to Dad because they’re talking about getting married, so they’re planning to visit Los Angeles in the spring. Dad’s being wishy-washy about it, as usual. He couldn’t even make it here for Gram’s funeral.”
Violet paused, blinking as if waking up from a trance. She was sitting and talking to Jasper like no time had passed between them. As if it hadn’t been fifteen years since they’d seen each other—as if he hadn’t abruptly disappeared from her life because of some mysterious illness.
She focused on him, her brows drawn tight. “Jasper, areyoudoing okay?”
“I’m fine. I told you—”
“Why—In what way are you sick? Why are you living like this?”
It wasn’t her place to demand an explanation, but she needed one.Somethingto help rationalize what had happened back then.
He straightened in the chair. “I’m perfectly fine with the way I’m living, Violet. And I… I don’t like to talk about my sickness.”
“Alright, I don’t mean to pry. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“You just…disappearedwhen we were kids.”
“I had to,” he said.
She shook her head, taking a deep breath. “I guess I don’t understand. I was worried about you. It’s not like you were in the hospital for visits, andno onewould tell me what happened or what was wrong. It was awful and I really missed you.” The confession was a bit naked, but true. Lately, Violet felt as if her emotions were constantly running at level-ten intensity (or zero, once she finally wore herself out and fell asleep).
Jasper glanced down into his cup, avoiding her eyes as his skin flushed a rosy shade. “It was awful for me, too. I—” He inhaled softly, but nothing followed except another quiet moment. A brief space in time for them to mutually acknowledge the hurt within their past. To mourn together.
Violet tilted her head. “But you’re okay? You’re still sick, but…”
“I’ll always be sick, but yes, I’m fine.”
“Earlier, you said that Gram used to visit with you. What if—”
“No, Violet,” he said, serious gray eyes on hers.
