Page 25 of Crossroads Magic
“Mom?” Ghaliya asked, concern rich in her voice.
“I just…I just miss her, is all,” I told her. “Nanna made this, in the last days she was alive.”
Ghaliya looked down at the bowl, then at me. “I barely remember her.” Her tone was apologetic. “She never visited.”
“She said she couldn’t leave here.” I sniffed, wiped off my cheeks and took another mouthful. “And she didn’t want us to come here. Said we’d get in the way, that she couldn’t break off to visit with us.” I thought about the kitchen I’d just left. “I’m starting to understand why she felt that way, too. I think this whole hotel is run by just three people.” I paused. “Wasrun by just three people.”
“Wow.” Ghaliya looked around the room, chewing. “But…it’s not like they have lots of customers, either.”
Once we’d both eaten, I got the old stove going. A kettle sat on the hotplates and I found a covered pitcher of water on the old tin kitchenette, that I used to fill the kettle. I pushed around the items on the top shelves of the kitchenette, exploring. “Here,” I said. “Tea.”
“Rather have coffee,” Ghaliya said, stacking the bowls. She burped, and held her hand to her mouth. “I don’t feel sick…”
“You’re not having coffee. You shouldn’t have tea.”
“I guess.” She smiled at me. “I need a book. Something to tell me what to do and not do.”
“The internet will have to do,” I said, pointing at her phone. “I doubt any of the books in this building will deal with pregnancy in a way that won’t horrify modern sensibilities.”
Ghaliya smiled, making her high cheekbones stand out. “Witch willow and hazelnut for morning sickness.”
“And offerings to the gods for a safe delivery.”
“At least there is a doctor in the town if I need one,” Ghaliya said. “That’s something.”
“We’ll be back in L.A. before you need anything like a doctor,” I assured her. “As soon as the Sheriff’s department has been and the coroner takes Nanna away, then we can leave. I’ll have conversations with Hirom and the cleaner in the meantime. Maybe there’s someone in the town who can do the cooking, to keep the dining room open for guests.”
Ghaliya looked a little bewildered and a touch overwhelmed. This was probably too practical and direct for a young woman who was still trying to deal with the overwhelming fact that she was pregnant.
“I’ll figure it out,” I told her quickly.
A few minutes later, as I was pouring water over the tea leaves I’d put in a bowl that I think had once held sugar—for there was no teapot I could find—I heard Ghaliya give a great yawn.
“You should go to bed,” I told her.
“I shouldn’t be tired. It’s only, like, five in the afternoon, west coast time.”
“But your body is saying it wants sleep. You’re going to have to listen to it and give it what it wants for the next few months.”
Ghaliya sighed. “I guess.” Then she brightened. “I can read for a while. And there’s a door into the bathroom from my room, too. So I don’t have to walk through your room to get to it. Neat, huh?”
“Very,” I said dryly. “I’m just relieved there’s a flushing toilet. Most everything in this place is medieval.”
Ghaliya giggled. “Benedict Marcus isn’t. He’s just the right age.”
I stared at her.
“I saw you looking at him. He’s pretty good for an old guy.”
I shook my head. “Go to bed,” I told her firmly. “I have to turn this place upside down and I don’t know how much dust I’ll kick up. So shoo. Out of here.”
“Why do you have to turn this place upside down?”
“I have to find Nanna’s will. Or the contact information for a lawyer who has a copy of her will. And that’s just to start. Besides, the Sheriff’s department could show up at any moment, too.”
Ghaliya went happily into her quaint room, and I started searching for documentation that would help me figure out my mother’s life and last intentions. The desk was the logical place, but there was very little of significance in the drawers. No address book, which might have a lawyer’s phone number. No pages withLast Will and Testamentat the top.
But I learned a lot about the things that had interested my mother, including a long-abiding interest in history. Not just American history, either. She had books dealing with European history, heading back into the dark ages.
