We were at a standstill.
The silence went on for a long moment. Maybe I should carefully back away until I was in sprinting distance of the front door. If I came out running, I was sure that Ryan would start the engine before I even buckled up.
“I wasn’t aware of your mother,” Celeste said carefully.
Blinking, I took a deep breath. “I don’t talk about it much.”
“As I realized shortly after our last conversation.”
If that was what my bellowing at her could be called.
“It isn’t because she wasn’t important to me. It’s just …” I sighed. “When she died, she sent this wreckage into my life. My father’s a wonderful man, but after that, he’s never been the same. I wasn’t the same, so I couldn’t blame him.”
I settled my forearms on her stone countertop, cold against my skin. Celeste stared off toward my cupped hands.
“For so long, it was as if I was trying to piece together who I was and who she was. I wanted to be this perfect person I always imagined she would’ve kept being. In the end, I only set myself up for disappointment. I could no longer count on her or my dad. I could only count on myself and who I was. Keeping that in mind, it brought me here, to Barnett. For better or for worse.”
“It was wrong of me. To say the things I said to you,” Celeste admitted.
“Trust me, you aren’t the only one with words that have come back to haunt you threefold.”
She hummed respectfully. “I suppose not. My mother died when I was young as well. It brought out this sort of nurturing in me. It’s part of why I wanted Essie to be so strong within our little coven all these years. I saw strength in her I never had. I also saw a bit of legacy I wasn’t sure for so long I was going to get.”
“I never thought this was where I would end up,” I said in a similar vein. “Once I got here, I had no idea where I was going. I barely make much of a decision when I don’t have to, but I’m done being uncertain about things and what I want out of life. I hope you can respect that.”
Slowly, Celeste nodded. “I can.”
“Thank you. Sorry to interrupt, though it smells delicious in here,” I said. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thank you for being honest with me, Luella. Next time, however, I would prefer when we disagree on something that we don’t have it out on the front lawn, where your poor boy—Ryan—is frozen, watching in horror, from across the street.”
I huffed a small laugh. That seemed fair. “See you on Saturday.”
“See you at the meeting,” she agreed.
Without anything left to say—at least, not as much—I turned back down the hallway of the house toward the front door I had come in from.
“Hey, Lu.”
Pausing in the hall before the hooks of discarded coats and rain boots, I glanced behind me toward Essie, standing on the steps.
“Eavesdropping?”
“Just happened to overhear,” Essie said, though she grinned with mischief.
I gave her a knowing smirk right back.
“I wanted to catch you before you left. I wanted to tell you that it’s all right about the whole priestess thing and all.” She leaned over the railing. Seafoam eyes softened. “To be honest, I’m sort of relieved.”
“Well then, I’m sure your mother will get over it soon,” I said, though we both knew that wasn’t likely.
“Maybe in the next decade or so.”
“I was thinking at least until she shared her strudel recipe.”
“Her deathbed then?” Essie raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe.”
