She turned her head in dismissal. “A difference of opinion. It’s no longer important.”
“It seems to be with the way you’ve shut her out all these years.”
My mother’s lips parted, and she met my gaze again. “Can we talk about this at another time? I have to get ready.”
Apparently, dinner with the Donnellys meant more to her than her sister. “Sure. I wanted to tell you what happened. I just got off the phone with her lawyer. Aunt Margaret left her house to me.”
“What?” Her mouth opened wide. “Why would she do that?”
I tipped my head lower. “That’s why I’m calling you.”
“I mean, she barely knew you.”
I exhaled. “I’m aware of this.”
“Why would she leave you her house?”
Ah, another one of my mom’s quirks. She’d answer my questions with her own. “I called to ask you that,” I repeated.
Her brows drew closer. “Well, I don’t know.”
I clucked my tongue. If my mother didn’t know, would anyone? “Didn’t she have other family or friends who she’d think of before me?”
“She had friends, all right,” my mother replied in a sardonic tone and wagged a finger. “Not the kind of people you’d want to associate with.”
My mother’s judgment about who was or wasn’t suitable company could be questionable since she had issues with just about every friend I’d ever had. “What does that mean?”
She blinked twice. “Naturally, you’ll sell that dump.”
Ah, now she was avoiding my question, another Mom thing.
Was Aunt Margaret’s house a dump? I kicked at some colorful fallen leaves at my feet. “I don’t know. Not only haven’t I processed this info yet, I haven’t even seen the place. I’m going on Monday.”
She scowled. “You’re going to Salem?”
“Yes, I need to meet with the lawyer. There’s paperwork. There are tenants.”
Her lips tightened into a grim line as if the idea of it was distasteful. “Oh, the horror. My sister was a misfit magnet. She’d give a meal and a bed to any wayward witch or supernatural. You’re better off getting rid of this headache as soon as possible.” She gestured with a dismissive wave. “Deal with what you need to do and get out of there, and fast.” She fixed a steady gaze on me. “Salem isn’t good for you.”
My pulse quickened. That had been my plan, but why was my mom acting so weird? We used to live there. “Why?”
“Trust me.” She glanced off into the distance. “I really need to go.”
I ended the unhelpful call and stared across the park.
Was there anyone I could see while visiting Salem? My close friend, Gianna, still lived there. We hadn’t talked as often since we graduated from high school, but still stayed in touch. Weeks or even months could go by, and we’d pick up as if no time had passed. Since we were both considered outcasts, even in a town that celebrated its oddities, our bond stuck.
I texted her. I’m coming in this weekend.
Nice! You better come and see me and check out the club! Do you want to stay at my place?
Hmm, good question. I technically owned a house now and could probably stay there. Without knowing the situation or talking to the tenants first, that seemed a bit weird.
If you don’t mind.
It would be great to catch up with Gianna. She was my closest friend growing up. As a half-siren, she had plenty of male attention, but the girls considered her a misfit like me. Although she’d left Salem to travel for a while, she returned and opened a retro rock club a few years ago on the North Shore, closer to Boston.
Of course not! It’s been too long. Can’t wait to see you so we can catch up in person.
