Finding out that @tryingsomethingnew also lives in Cranberry was a bit exciting at first, but after taking some time to process the information, I realize it’s not such a great development after all. The chances of him knowing Sky Flores, and thinking she’s a freak, have officially skyrocketed. This all means he definitely cannot know who I am now.
Between that and the whole annoying texting shenanigans that went down with my sisters, my mood is impossibly sour for the rest of the day. As a treat, I allow myself one hour to investigate the potential creepy Cranberry witch cult, even though it means going into the new library building and navigating stares and whispers so I can get my hands on various history books about the town.
I can only relax once I’m alone in my dungeon, the newly checked-out book pile in front of me on my beloved stolen desk. I breathe out a sigh of relief as I sit, open my secret drawer, pull out my journal and a handful of chocolates, and begin to read.
After about thirty minutes, it’s becoming clear to me that there’s something weird about the church. St. Theresa’s Catholic Church for Wanderers and Pilgrims, to be specific.
It’s the place I, Teal, and Sage were basically raised in. Half my childhood memories are connected with that spot, from attending Mass multiple times a week, to being forced to attend Bible studies and confirmation classes. We baked for the bake sales and put together Thanksgiving dinners for the unhoused and sang in the choir.
According to one rather large and unwieldy tome, there used to be rumors that St. Theresa’s was haunted. Maybe those rumors still exist, but I’m assuming they’re not as prevalent, because for all the time I’ve spent there, I’d never heard about it, not once. But right here, inCranberry: A Brief History through the Ages, it begins by talking about the voices people can hear through thechurch walls, and random thumping and banging underfoot, as though someone, or many someones, were trapped below.
It also says that the church’s construction was delayed for nearly a decade, with contracts being canceled as well as project managers just up and quitting for seemingly no good reason. In 1902, the town’s mayor had even canceled the construction, only for it to resume the following year. I don’t know if any of this is relevant to my investigation, but these facts are interesting enough to note in my little research scrapbook. They might make sense later, or they may never contribute to my side project. Either way, I’m absorbed just enough that my heart doesn’t hurt as bad when I think about my sisters. Even if none of this comes to fruition, the effort is worth it for the distraction alone.
We need to talk.
I receive this cryptic message from Amá Sonya on my way home from work. It definitely makes me pause, considering I haven’t heard from my grandmother in about five weeks, after I’d given up on asking her to brunch. I know for a fact she brunches with Teal once or twice a month, and has been for the last decade or so, but naturally the embarrassing granddaughter gets left on read for such a suggestion.
I’d been thinking I should change into something better for my meeting with Adam when I get home—my top is currently wrinkled to hell after a day bending over to grab stacks of books from the way-bottom shelves—but now I’m wondering if my prayer to the old gods backfired and instead of leaving me alone for a bit, the whole family is currently intent on tracking my whereabouts.
“Fuck.” The curse comes from under my breath when I see that Amá is already parked in my normal spot at Nadia’s. She’s at the door, and thankfully Nadia is home, because Amá is already inside by the time I’ve driven by the front of the house.
I drive around the block once more, wondering what the hell I should do. Normal people, under normal circumstances, would just sayI’m sorry, Amá, but I already have plans. Let’s meet up on the weekend instead. But normal people do not have intrusive, entitled bitches for grandmothers.
If I went inside that house right now, Amá Sonya would sit me down and force me to have whatever kind of talk she thinks I owe her, and if I were in a hurry, she’d make it last longer. An hour. Hours, even. It’s too damn stressful for me to deal with right now when I’m already stupidly nervous about seeing Adam again so soon.
I decide to leave my car parked on Basque Street, the one right next to Catalina. Then, dressed in a black tweed pencil skirt, black leather kitten heels, and a very wrinkled pale turquoise button-down top, I cut through people’s side yards to get to William’s backyard.
Coffee, the fox, follows me, darting all around me like the cutest one-man security team. “Hey, you. Where have you been? Visiting your cliffside girlfriend?” He does this growl-mew in response. Kind of anone of your business, but alsoyesat the same time. I cover my mouth as I laugh, and he’s got the biggest doglike grin on his face. Why can’t talking with humans be this easygoing?
I’m now in William’s side yard, and I hide behind what I’m pretty sure are some elderberry bushes, trying to spy on Nadia and Sonya across the street. Another text chimes in.Where areyou, nieta? You can’t be too far…It’s like I’m being taunted by a damn serial killer.
She texts again, and this time, it’s a blurry photo of me and Adam having lunch at the country club. I roll my eyes.That’swhat she wants to talk about. She wants to interrogate me to see if I’m dating Adam, or to ask when the wedding is, probably. Adam’s very high on the social currency in Cranberry. My imaginary betrothal to him would make Amá Sonya basically froth at the mouth. Shelovessocial currency.
“Sky?”
I turn and see Adam leaning over from the side of the house, a puzzled expression on his face. He looks kind of adorable when confused—his blue eyes narrowed, his beautiful head tilted—but the problem is, he’s in full view of Nadia’s house. “Shh,” I hiss. “Come here. Or else she’ll see you and take you away to her gingerbread house.”
Adam’s brows furrow even more deeply.
“Come quick! Or she’ll put you in her oven and eat you for dinner!”
“Okay. Okay. I’m coming.” He jogs over and squeezes in next to me behind the elderberries. “So there’s a crazy lady loose on the street, is what you’re saying.”
“Exactly. My grandmother.” I narrow my eyes at Nadia’s. “You got any binoculars?”
“Not on my person.”
I sigh. “That’s okay.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes, just listening to a distant propeller plane, the sound of our own breaths, the crickets beginning to chirp in a humming symphony. Finally Adam turns to me and says, “Care to explain what’s going on?”
I roll my eyes. “My grandmother found out you and I went to the country club yesterday. So now she’s probably planning our wedding. If we run into her right now, we’ll be walking away with a huge-ass diamond ring on my finger and our engagement set to be announced for tomorrow’s paper.”
Adam chuckles. “Okay. Good call on the…ah. Hiding?”
“Yeah. We’re hiding.”
Adam turns to me. “Is your family always like this?”
