“I didn’t know Isaac was religious?” My grandfather peered over his newspaper. His spectacles made his eyes look five times too big and a little too beady. Maura nudged me in the side and smirked.God, I love these two.
“The only thing Isaac has ever been religious about isSandi’swaffles.”
Maura chuckles softly next to me. “Now those are a sacred experience.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it, pet,” my grandfather said, looking over at us as Maura’s hand settled in mine and squeezed gently. “Some people just handle stress badly.” But ending a sixteen-year friendship over a little stress seemed a little extreme even for Isaac.
“I expect a basket of mini muffins with his apology,” I gruffed, rolling my eyes before turning to my grandmother. “How are you doing, Grams? Feeling a little better?”
“The doctors are doing everything they can to keep me comfortable. I have a few appointments next week, but the newpain meds are making it a little easier to manage.” She smiled. There was something in her expression that spoke louder than any words could. There was a sincerity in her smile that had me desperately wanting to believe what she was saying. But her smile was poised, polished, and well-groomed. It had all the makings and qualities of a pageant winner–warmth, kindness, and a porcelain façade that didn’t show all the effort that went into keeping it shining underneath.
I wanted to ask more questions. I wanted to press harder, but when my grandfather mused about the possibility of Maura getting better, it was the happiest I’d seen him look in months. We both knew that my grandmother getting better naturally wasn’t an option, but I smiled and nodded anyway. Whatever they were doing did seem to bring my grandmother some comfort.
The slivers of her personality were beginning to shine through again. She was back in the garden, although mostly as a guiding hand now that she had finally convinced both my grandfather and me to help out. She was back making jokes and the occasional inappropriate comment, and honestly, it almost felt like she had never been ill at all.
This seemed to pour the life back into my grandfather, too. I’d noticed that his laugh was a little looser, and the breath that he had been holding onto since my grandmother’s diagnosis a year ago seemed to finally slip away. In fact, he was back to his usual self. He was cheery and happy and exuded a warmth that was just as lovely as the afternoon spring temperature. He had spent much of the last week humming the tune toMy Girl,and in true spirit with the song, their happiness did really feel like sunshine on a cloudy day.
I’d asked myself a million times over why I hadn’t made my second wish yet. The thought has rattled through my mind again and again. On more than one occasion, I had resolved tospeak to Thallor about it, only for me to trip over my own words like they were loose shoelaces. It was like every time I was ready, I got this overwhelmingly heavy feeling in my chest that made me feel dirty and guilty and wrong, even though I hadn’t done anything at all.
Maybe it was because of how hard Maura had fought. She had always been that way. Nothing really phased her. Even at the height of her illness, she had stood stoic against it, trusting that things would get better. And even now,nowthat things were manageable, a part of me felt so wrong for trying to swoop in and take away her agency—her autonomy to choose what happened to her—especially when her illness had already done so much of that.
And it wasn’t just my own guilt that stopped me in my tracks. Thallor’s wishes had come with caveats and rules that had made it infinitely more difficult to figure out what to say. My wishes wouldn’t account for anything after the fact, which ruled out making Maura permanently better. Thallor had also informed me that I wasn’t able to make a wish more than once, so if she ever got sick again, that wouldn’t help either. Plus, it didn’t seem fair to keep Thallor trapped here longer than I needed to. I’d already wasted so much of everyone’s time. I had been so crippled by the decision that over the last few weeks, I was finding it difficult to do anything.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it, unlocking it and fighting the smile on my face as I did. My grandfather had used some of his retirement money to get me a new phone for Christmas, meaning I had graciously gifted my old one to Thallor. Which had been one ginormous, terrible, irreversible mistake.Because I loved hearing from him.
Spawn of Satan: I’ve made a right mess at home :)
The photo attached was of my breakfast bar, which was now covered in a plastic sheet and scattered with soil. Potted plants were placed with no semblance of order, with vines of hanging ivy and a Chinese Money plant sitting in beautiful terracotta pots I’d never seen before, whilst others sat waiting patiently to be rehomed.
Demon Prince. Fiery red hair. And a green thumb too.Get your shit together, Quincey.I couldn’t help but think–rather selfishly and totally hypothetically–that keeping Thallor round would be far better than two measly wishes.
Quincey: What would I do without you? :)
Spawn of Satan: You could just wish for better skills with plants.
Quincey: Seems like a waste if I have you.
Spawn of Satan: Planning on keeping me around, Sterling?
Quincey: Didn’t know that was an option.
Typing. Deleting. Typing. Deleting.More fucking typing.Never in my life had I been so infuriated by three little loading dots before. I watched them closely as if some miracle was about to occur before my very eyes, a miracle that would drastically improve my life. I didn’t know how it would work. I didn’t know how any of it would work. But with every passing moment, every day, every minute, everysecond,it was like Thallor’s soul was being stitched to mine. I thought about how painful it would be to pull out those threads. To pry every memory of him from my mind. But if he stayed…
Spawn of Satan: It hasn’t beenuntil now.
“It is hard to find a boy who makes you feel like that.” Maura smiled at me as she patted my hand and guided me back to the present.
“Like what?”
Maura just chuckled to herself. “Like that grin on your face,” she said as she lightly pressed a poked finger to my cheek. “Full teeth and pearly whites. You couldn’t lie to me if you tried.”
I wanted to roll my eyes. Esme and Maura are such kindred spirits. Always looking for ways to worm their way into my non-existent love life. I often felt so bad about their misplaced enthusiasm that I would try to come up with the most outlandish and terrible date stories, hoping they would one day just let it go. Like the man who took me to the zoo but refused to look at anything but the reptiles, the barista who took me to buy a nightgown for his mother, the finance bro who had shown up with another girl.Now that one had actually been real.
I had actually silently rooted for him after that. The other girl had to have had a good time, right? Becausethe fucking balls on that guy.
“I simply do not know what you are talking about, Maura.” I shook my head, but the blush on my cheeks held steadfast against my frantic movement.
“So, are you going to tell me about the gentleman sending you pictures of plants?”
