Page 46 of The Royal Street Witch
“Say what?” I cry, because my phone is sitting on the counter next to me. I look through the doorway as Chantal enters my living room.
“She says you’re not answering her calls or texts, forced me to come over here so you can talk to her.” She holds her phone up to my face, and I bite my lip and glower at her while she shrugs, sinking to the carpet to pet Mercury. I grab the phone from her hand and place it to my ear.
“I’m alive,” I report.
“What the fuck, Aster? I’ve been calling you for two days straight. Texted at least five times.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” I say, and Chantal’s eyebrows rise with interest.
I flop on the couch and slap Chantal’s hand away from Winnie, my heart rate speeding. I hid the spell under Enchantments, but I’m still paranoid.
“Wha—you’re just ignoring me?”
The truth is, yes, I’ve been ignoring her. The affair I’ve fallen into has me riddled with enough guilt without having to lie to my mom about where I am and what I’m doing.
“Did you need something?”
“Yeah, I need you to answer me when I call or text you.” If voices had color hers would be a raging scarlet. I feel the heat through Chantal’s phone so I inhale slowly. I don’t want a fight.
“I’ve been really busy. Everything okay?”
She’s silent for a moment, gathering her anger like seeds. “Yes, everything is fine. It started as me just checking on you. But when you didn’t respond, I thought you were dead.”
I laugh, and she laughs with me. My mother would be able to feel if I were dead, and we both know it.
“Chantal told me you took a cowboy’s phone number, so I was just—”
“Fuck, this is about a baby,” I yell and shove the phone back into Chantal’s face. “You told her about the cowboy?”
“I was honestly just trying to pacify her,” Chantal whispers through gritted teeth, pushing the phone out of her face.
I put it back up to my ear. “Listen, I’m not up for this conversation—”
“Your cousin Meryl is pregnant. She’s three years younger than you. Aunt Violetta had to call and rub it in.”
“Good for Meryl. Another witch will be born.”
Chantal’s mouth grows wide. “That kiss ass,” she whispers with a head shake.
“Doesn’t that relieve me from some of the pressure?”
“It doesn’t, Aster. You are the purest witch left, a gift. I need a grandchild. You need a child. It’s not that hard. If I could do it, you can do it.”
I cackle at that, at the burden I was to my mother. The wild witch with a kid on her hip. She resented me, until she could run out of here as soon as my grandmother died, as soon as I was legal.
“All right, I will go fuck a drunk on Bourbon Street tonight. How’s that sound?”
“Jeez, don’t fuck a drunk. Make it a street performer, at least,” Chantal whispers and I kick her, right in the shin, and she points her finger at me, sending a bolt of electricity down my thigh.
“You bitch.” And I’m shaking my head, the pain pulsating down my entire leg while my mother…my very own mother lectures me. The most irresponsible witch, woman, breathing thing on the planet lectures me about the coven.
“Violetta and Rosemary are getting impatient. There will be consequences.” Rosemary is Violetta’s sister, the second in line to be the coven elder, and if she thinks she’s going to bully me too, she’s got it wrong.
“I look forward to it,” I remark because who does my mother think she is? I don’t want to have a daughter only to resent her like my mother resents me. I don’t want to feel trapped, and I don’t want to turn an innocent child into a burden.
I listen to her talk, blah, blah, blah. I promise I’m making moves toward a pregnancy, and I say goodbye when it’s over and throw Chantal’s phone at her.
“Do you see why I was avoiding her?” I shout.
