Being sent on an errand up into the woods to forage flowers, sticks, and greenery for flower crowns and homemade witch’s brooms was a gift. As was the burgeoning warmth in the air, following a couple of false starts to spring that had happened already. That, at least, made her feel a little bit less grim. A little bit less dark.
Soraya was the one who suggested they all wear dresses.
“It’s a cute adventure,” she’d said.
She wasn’t wrong, really, though Nora only had a black dress that fell to mid-calf, which did look quite witchy but was a bit out of place with Soraya’s white and Daisy’s green.
As the sun washed over her and the breeze caught her hair, she had to acknowledge that perhaps she had underestimated the healing power of nature. It was tempting to squirrel herself away at her house, to binge-watch TV shows or reorganize her closet, anything to disassociate from the present moment. She hadn’t realized that the present moment might be the key to healing.
The sun on her skin, the sound of the birds around them, the scent of pine and warm earth.
Daisy had taken them to a hiking trail that she liked to walk with her kids, which Nora did her best not to take personally, but the implication was clearly that Nora was best suited to a trail that was friendly to children.
She could take that on the chin, because it was true.
Soraya was in the front and spun in a circle, looking up at the trees.
“You seem improved,” Nora said.
“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about the state of my life. Not like I wasn’t thinking about it before, but since I had a total breakdown after David’s house burned down, I’ve been thinking about it in a different way.”
“Sure.” Nora shrugged.
“One of the things they always said in our church was that you had to be a fruit inspector. Because every action has a consequence. It’s like the branch of a tree. Our pastor used to ask us if someone’s actions were bearing fruit.” She turned to look at them, a confidence in her eyes Nora hadn’t seen before. “David’s fruit is rotten. There’s a lot of rotten fruit at our church. I had a feeling about that far longer ago than this past year. But I had also been taught that all the answers were in that church. I don’t mean the faith, but the physical church. I’m looking at the fruit,and it’s rotten. I’m doing exactly what I was told, and I’m seeing clearly. I agree that the three of us need to turn our focus to helping rather than hurting, even if these men deserve it. Their actions will catch up with them; their fruit will remain rotten, whether we curse them or not.”
“Amen.” Daisy lifted her fist.
“True,” Nora agreed.
“I’m also paying attention to what’s growing in my own life.” Soraya reached up and lowered a branch filled with blossoms toward herself. She inhaled the scent and smiled before releasing it again. “I’m happier. I have a different relationship with my kids, and it might even be better than it was before. One where I can be honest, and not a hypocrite. Aggie said something to me, too, that made me think. She said it was okay for me to do things because they felt good. I realized I don’t actually know how to do that. I have attached guilt and worry to just about everything. I don’t want to do that anymore. Not because I don’t care about being right. I do. I care so much about doing the right thing and not hurting other people or inconveniencing them. But somewhere in there, I lost myself. Or maybe I’ve never even found myself before.”
Daisy stopped walking for a moment. “She asked me when the last time was that I was wild. What happened to the girl I was, who used to scream and growl and howl at the moon whenever she wanted to. Spin in wild circles. It’s weird, because one day you do stop doing that. It’s not a decision, but you get some kind of awareness—shame, I guess. That thing that tells you what you’re supposed to want, supposed to do.”
“And look where it got us,” Nora said. “All that civility, all that shame, for what? All that need to fit inside a box. I don’t think I was ever carefree. I always felt like my passion, my feelings, were a burden, and I alternated between embracing it, being that burden, angry and difficult to deal with, and then trying so hard to be normal. To be the wife Ben needed. I’m so tired of it. Maybe I’m difficult. A lot of people are. Don’t I deserve to be?”
“Not difficult,” Soraya said. “You’ve been through a lot, but you are a deeply passionate person. Creative and kind. You were there for me when I needed you, even though you didn’t like me, and for good reason.”
“Daisywas there for you. I was just kind of along for the ride.”
“That’s not true.” Daisy was vehement.
“It’s a little bit true,” Nora said. “But also, Soraya, even though I had some complicated feelings about you from high school, there’s a reason that we stopped for you. Because you are the kind of person who cares deeply about doing right by others. Because even when you hurt my feelings in high school, I know you meant well.”
“Yeah, I guess so. But you know, so much of a belief system that rigid is wanting to believe that you’re protected. I wanted to believe that as long as I did good things, nothing bad would happen to me. But you can’t control the world that way. At a certain point, you have to surrender. I’m working on that.”
“I think we’re all working on that,” Nora said. Control and desire were definitely at the root of her issues with Sam. Hell, it was probably the root of all the issues in her marriage.
Her inability to let go. To put herself in harm’s way. To make herself vulnerable.
They came around a curve in the path, and there were wildflowers growing in bright-green patches of grass beneath the trees. They took their baskets and walked off the path, picking bunches of flowers, finding leaves, twigs, and grass to make the brooms. Aggie had explained to them that a witch’s broom was used to clear negative energy out of the house, and by making one out of local grasses and flowers, it could be infused with extra magic.
They wandered farther and farther from the path, the sun beginning to beat down on them. Daisy stopped and suddenly flung her arms wide, threw her head back, and screamed. Then she started to run, her basket flying behind her, her other hand holding her skirt up, trying to keep herself from tripping. Soraya and Nora exchanged looks and thenran after Daisy. Soraya shrieked, and Nora kept quiet, concentrating on not falling on her face as they careened over the uneven ground. When they reached Daisy, she was standing on the edge of a body of water.
“Swimming hole,” she shouted on the breeze. “I’ve taken my kids here before.”
“Daisy,” Soraya said. “It’s the end of April. That water has to be freezing.”
Daisy set the basket down, took her glasses off and placed them in the basket, and gathered her skirt in her hands. “I don’t care. I stopped singing. I stopped dancing and acting and being silly. I stopped screaming and running. I lost myself. Never again.” She flung herself off the bank and into the water.
