“It’s this.” Demi pulls a leaf from the bag that escaped and holds it out. I recognize Lamb’s ear from one of Mrs. Gretchen’s educational trips around her backyard.
“That’s not sage,” I confirm. “I think Mrs. Gretchen said it was from the mint family, so wrong herb entirely.” For some reason I find this very funny. “Good try, though.”
“The first bit was sage,” Demi says.
“Thank you.” I laugh harder, and finally Demi joins in. Biba still has her hand over her mouth.
“You okay?” Demi asks.
“I think I was okay to start.” Demi cocks her head at me and waits. “Okay, maybe not, but I’m fine now. No more bad mojo.”
“All the bad energy has been released,” Demi chants, waving her body in some weird, belly-dance routine. As awkward as it looks, I join in, leaving Biba shaking her head. If I’m doing this, I’m doing all of it. “All the Liv memories will lift and no longer cause you pain.”
“And Bartlett,” I say quietly.
But not quiet enough. “I wasn’t going to bring him up,” Biba says.
“I could feel his toxic energy,” Demi soothes. “But it’s gone now.”
“All gone,” I echo, feeling more of the emptiness inside me subside.
Maybe this will work.
We stand, staring at the fire until Biba moves to pour another round of drinks.
“Look at the stars,” I say suddenly. Three steps take me to the middle of the backyard and I lay down on the cool grass.
“This is what I love about you,” Demi says as she joins me. “Nothing keeps you down for long. That’s how you’re going to get through this.”
“I really think I’m through it,” I protest. “I just want it over. I’m tired of this… unsettled feeling. Like nothing is quite finished.”
“Closure,” Biba grumbles. “And I really hate that word. You need closure.”
“This should give you closure,” Demi wriggles close enough to rest her head on my shoulder. Biba joins us, balancing her cup on her stomach.
“I hope so,” I say quietly.
“Nothing else is going to work,” Biba laughs.
Boen
I watch them lying on the grass.
If this is stalking, it’s getting to be an issue. It’s one thing to convince myself that I was only watching Rachel last night to make sure she got in safely; quite another to spy out my bedroom window to watch her and her friends stand around a fire like they’re involved in some pagan ritual.
Maybe it is a ritual. Maybe Rachel is some sort of twenty-first century witch who worships dogs.
The memory of this morning brings a flush to my cheeks. I did not handle that well.
Why is it only now, after I’ve lived here for almost three months, that I’m noticing Rachel? And why does she have to worship dogs? Because other than that…
She’s very rude. I can’t forget about that.
Other than the dogs and the rudeness and the loud singing and now this pagan ritual, she’s really somewhat attractive.
Very attractive.
And funny.
