Page 4 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
“You. Quoting that goofy writer. And Gram was a total hippy.”
“She wasn’t. She was free. And Ambrose isnotgoofy.”
“He’s hot.” Rose smirked. “I’ll give him that. That’s seventy-five percent of his appeal.”
“Well, it certainly doesn’t hurt him, does it?”
They were both silent, but Rose’s expression shifted into what Violet recognized as her serious ‘big sister’ face. “Keep your excellent job. Stay the course. If you move back here, what are you going to do in this sleepy Mary Poppins town, huh? Piddle around Gram’s creaky old-lady hippy cottage—”
“Charming cottage. It’s charming—”
“Read through her weird herbalist books and daydream about how much fun you had living here when we were kids? Hoping to catch a glimpse of that creepy boy in Laurent House.”
“Don’t—No. That’snotit, Jasper has nothing to do with my decision. Don’t talk about him that way.”
“You haven’t seen him since you were nine. Nobodyhas. He’s allegedly ‘sick’ but his parents moved away ages ago and left him up there alone in that rundown manor. Who knows what the hell is going on? And I don’t like the idea of you back here and fixated on that situation,again.” Rose set her mug on the table in front of them, then twisted to fully face her sister. “You finally left here and started building a good life outside this boring village. Please don’t use Gram’s passing as an excuse to saddle yourself back here.”
Violet considered her sister and the sincerity in her eyes. Rose always wore her brown hair straightened, and it framed her pale, slim face like a very dark and heavy curtain. “Rose is so lovely, she should model.” People had said as much over and over when they were both young. Within the ethnic spectrum between their parents’ genes, Violet had gottenallof the curls, andallof the curves. Every last bit of them.
And she was glad for it. Growing up, she’d thought of herself as odd compared to her peers. Different. But now, she felt unique—embracing her brown, sun-kissed skin and the smattering of dark freckles across her nose.
Turning her head, Violet stared into the fireplace. She understood her sister’s perspective, but they were different people with different lives. Violet had tried the “young woman moves away from home for a fancy job in the big city” bit. She’d been doing it now for three years. She hated it.
“You just don’t get it. I love this house and this town. I’m staying.”
“Ugh.” Rose fell back into the couch, slouching.
“What’s the problem?” Jillian said, pulling her blonde, straight hair into a ponytail as she walked into the room. She plopped down in a nearby armchair. “You trying to boss your baby sis around and failing miserably?”
Violet lifted her mug to her lips. “As per usual…”
“This house is beautiful,” Jillian said. “There’s so much interesting stuff here. I don’t blame you for wanting to stay.”
“Ido,” Rose whined. “You’re too young and headstrong to be stuck in a sleepy place like this. You could do and be so much more. I just feel like you’re wasting your potential.”
“First, that’s insulting,” Violet said, frowning, “I’m enough. Right now, as I am. Screw ‘potential.’ I had an ex-boyfriend that used to say that to me and I really disliked it. Second, it’smylife. Stop making me feel bad about my choices. You’re being a jerk.”
Rose whipped her head toward Violet, her lip stuck out in a full pout. “I’m a jerk for wanting to protect you? For keeping you from chasing unrealistic hippy-dippy fantasies when you’ve already got something solid? And I know Gram used to take your weird little friend groceries every week. She asked you to take over, didn’t she?That’swhat this is about.”
“Stop calling him weird and creepy—and he’s not ‘little’ anymore. He’ll be twenty-five on Christmas Eve.”
Silence. Both women stared at Violet, accusation written all over their faces. Violet shrunk. “This is not about a man. I’m still going to work my terrible job remotely, alright? They know I’m here managing Gram’s estate. Surprisingly, as long as I’m accessible online, they’ve told me to take my time. I just want to be here and mourn right now. Can you stop being so pushy about it?”
“Yeah, stop being so pushy,” Jillian chimed in, smiling. “Pushy woman—like you’re always in a bloody courtroom. Vi never listens to you anyway.”
“Exactly.” Violet smiled at her sister. “So give it a rest. Your lawyer is showing. Might want to cover that up.”
Rose lifted her chin. “Oh shut up, both of you. Why shouldn’t you listen to me? I have a career that I love, stability, a wonderful partner—”
“Aw, cheers, babe,” Jillian gushed.
“And I want these things for you, too,” Rose continued. “I don’t see how that makes me a jerk.”
“So, Vi,” Jillian said, sitting straight and narrowing her green eyes at Violet. “What are you going to do with all your gram’s stuff? Are you just going to keep everything as is?”
There was so much stuff, in the typical way that people who lived long lives ceaselessly gathered worldly possessions across time: trinkets placed in corners, books stuffed in shelves, boxes stacked in closets. Violet sighed. “I have no idea.”
“Well, let us know when you decide,” Rose said, folding her arms and smirking. “I’ll try to stifle my innerjerk lawyerwhen we come help you.”
