Dad was a handsome man with a strong Italian nose, glossy black hair, and bright blue eyes. When he was home, he would spend most of his days in the garage, tinkering with model airplanes. Almost daily, we would get boxes full of ordered parts for his beloved hobby. Marietta and I used to stack the boxes outside the garage door, and for months they would wait for his return, as did I. Then after he would come back, he would disappear even longer.
Once he was done building them, he’d take me out into the field. It had been the only one-on-one time we would spend, out there with the tall grass tickling at my legs. No trees or people, only land for miles and looking up into the clear Texas skies. Together, we would fly the plane far after the sun had set. He would keep his words to himself, locked away. He was barely ever present, but in times when he was flying, he was present—the only time I’d ever seen a spark of life in him. All other times, he was trapped in distant memories, his mind always somewhere else. A place I didn’t exist.
On a rare occasion, he’d come into my room at night smelling like sawdust and motor oil and sit beside my bed. It was the only time he had talked about Freya, my mother. His calloused fingers hesitantly pushed my white locks off my forehead as he cried, apologizing for his misery. He’d said it was his fault he couldn’t climb out of it. That this slow and painful death of living without her was unbearable, but he had to go on because he’d made a promise.
Monday broke apart my daze when she said, “Jonah let us off the hook for the day but said to keep our beepers on us. Let’s go shopping.” I scanned the room. Jonah had already left, Julian had already left, and the room was nearly empty, only a few stragglers gossiping at the doors. “Fallon, hey,” she snapped her finger in front of me, and our eyes locked. “Defy Superstition Day, remember? It’s in like three weeks, and if we wait any longer, everything will be sold out.”
“I need to check on Benny first, make sure he’s alright.” I hated to leave him alone just as much as Gramps hated me hanging around, but if something were to happen, and I wasn’t there to help, I didn’t know if I could forgive myself. He hadn’t done so well during the storm. I’d refused to let him leave his bed this morning and set up his coffee and newspaper at his bedside before leaving the house.
“Yeah, sure,” Monday nodded, “Go on and check on him then meet us at the gazebo in thirty. We’ll wait for you.”
It was late morning, and Gramps was half asleep with the finished crossword puzzle and an empty coffee mug beside him. The sun settled high in the sky, beaming across his wrinkled face. I pulled the curtains closed and turned to clean up the folding bedside table.
“Just leave it, why don’t ya,” he muttered under his shaky breath.
“Are you hungry?” There were still leftovers in the fridge from the soup Mina had dropped off the day before after the storm passed and word got around that Dr. Morley had made a house call. “I can heat up that chowder.”
The tip of the pencil laying over the tray table had broken, and I dropped my eyes to the shuffled newspaper across the mini table. In deep, dark circles, the moon phase calendar was circled so hard the pencil had pierced through the paper.
“If I wanted chowdah don’t yah think I woulda gotten up by now?” he argued. “I don’t want the damn chowdah, Moonshine.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and cleared off the table, tucking the newspaper under my arm and holding the coffee mug in one hand, the used tissue bundle in the other. Before I reached the door, I turned back around. “You know, Benny. I don’t ask for much. I came all the way out here, more than willing to take care of you, no questions asked. The least you could do is treat me with respect.”
“I don’t know how many times I told yah, I nevah asked yah to come. Nevah wanted yah heyah in the first place!” His eyes brewed with indignation, a coldness.
My heart slammed against my chest as a thousand needles poked behind my eyes. But I would not cry in front of the man or increase his stress. Instead, I closed the door, fell back against it, and held back the tsunami inside me. The empty mug shook in my hand, and I looked down, forcing my hand to steady.Calm down, calm down, calm down…
Whenever Gramps had the chance to remind me he didn’t want me here, I had to remind myself he was the only family I had left, and the same for him. Past the cruel exterior, I knew he wanted me here too. Why couldn’t he admit it?
I placed the cup in the sink and went to stack the newspaper on the window sill with the others when a circle around a specific date grabbed my attention.
TWO FULL MOONS FOR THE MONTH OF OCTOBER
STARTING WITH THE 1ST.
Based on how the year has gone, expect this October to be filled with magic, murder, & madness. The full moons could show kindness, a cursing, or unveil truths that have been buried.
Chapter 10
Fallon
Oh My Stars Boutiquewas located on the east side of Town Square, owned by the Sullivan family. When I’d visited Voodoos Bar, Fable and I clicked instantly, but I hadn’t gotten to know the other two sisters, Ivy and Adora.
All three sisters were a year or two apart in age, all three beautiful and bewitching in their own, opposite ways. Ivy was the oldest, with the coal-black hair that angled sharply at her shoulders. Fable was the youngest, with fawn skin and chestnut-colored hair that pooled around her shoulders and flowed to her waistline. Adora was the middle, tendrils the color of dandelions and honey dripping down her tanned skin, and she’d been the most distant from me since I’d arrived.
The glossy floor had been hand-painted into a swirling galaxy of purples, blues, and blacks, whereas the walls and ceiling a crisp and bright white. Clothes and dresses hung from silver rods, stretching up and down the walls of the store with circular tables in the middle to showcase shoes, masks, and costume jewelry.
The heels of my boots sent an echo off the tile. “The floor is gorgeous.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Adora sighed, pulling her joined hands to her chest. “Fable doesn’t take compliments well, but she’s a true artiest.” She kissed the tips of her fingers, and her fingers stretched open in the air.
Fable rolled her eyes and shook her head from behind the counter, having to work this shift. “I just don’t respond to compliments well,” she corrected. “Doesn’t mean I don’t take them.”
“What do people wear to this Superstition Day anyway?”
“It depends on whether you will defy or not. If you defy, you wear a mask so the universe can’t see you,” Monday said, holding out a black leather jacket out in front of her with studs and spikes at the shoulders, similar to one I already owned. Her head tilted to the side, a lollipop stick poking from between her lips. “If you’re not defying, you’re basically just drinking and avoiding superstitions. But the people in masks will be out to get ya, try and force ya to break ‘em.”
“I’m wearing a mask,” Fable added. “I’m not having a repeat of last year.”
