“Stillfeeling threatened right now.”
Ruth snaps her fingers. “Now that I think about it, my nephewIanis single, and he’s a great young man.”
Everly perks up. “I have someone better. What about Micah? Moab’s grandson?”
They’re off to the races on another round of Proventia’s Most Eligible Bachelor. Veda has met their second contestant, Micah, a few times. He’s perfectly pleasant and polite ... if she were looking for a man pushing fifty.
“Now, Everly, stop trying to set Micah up with every woman in Proventia,” Ruth fusses and turns to Veda. “If not Micah, I have theperfectcatch for you, my dear. Dr. Simpson.”
Paranoia makes Veda’s fingers tingle.
“In fact, Everett asked about you earlier,” Ruth adds with a conspiratorial waggle of her brows. At Veda’s deepening frown, Ruth swats as if her distrust is a particularly annoying fly. “Don’t look like that. His mom and I play bingo together. He’s a good, stable man. You already work with him at Weston. He’s a bit of a loner like you, and most importantly—”
“He’s interested,” Everly blurts out.
“Which issuchgood news. His mom was so worried. He hasn’t been acting like himself since February, when he stopped dating ... Sarah? Serena? Selena? All I know is she works for the FCD and she did a number on him. It’s good he’s back in the saddle.”
“Congrats to him, but leave me out of it.”
They cackle as if Veda has told a particularly funny joke.
“I’d set him up with Marlene”—Ruth sighs—“but she’s sworn off dating to focus on her career.”
“I still don’t understand. I thought she and the Padillos’ oldest son, Francisco, were interested in one another. Such a lovely man, but when I ask what happened, she doesn’t want to talk about him. I fear I may never see grandchildren at this rate.” Everly sighs with loving frustration.
Everly adopted Marlene at fifteen after Ruth rescued her and a group of teenage Seers from a boarding school that was a front for a quasi-legal experimental facility—not an uncommon fate for Seers abandoned after their Sight manifests. In fact, almost every Seer family in town has adopted at least one abandoned kid to protect them fromending up in the system. Ruth and Everly have a similar upbringing but spent the last four decades preventing kids from being taken advantage of, and even after the kids become adults, they never stop caring. It’s evident with Marlene.
Veda awkwardly chuckles while agreeing. Marlene is more Khadijah’s friend than Veda’s, but she’s listened to her talk plenty about not caring about the gender of her partner, only that she wants to marry and have a family of her own.
“Has she said anything to you and Khadijah?” Everly asks.
“I haven’t seen her in at least a month.”
Ruth frowns. “She must’ve meant Khadijah when she said she was spending time with friends.”
As Veda nods along, her gaze falls on Dr. Simpson, who is watching from two tables over.
Ruth follows her line of sight. “Ah, there he is. What do you think?”
“I’m not interested.”
“Beggars can’t be choosy. You’re losing time, dear.”
Ruth’s comment is less about Veda’s age and more about the ticking bomb of her Sanguis Curse. Veda doesn’t broadcast her affliction, but Ruth knows because Peter has involved the Oracle Council in his quest to heal her. Aside from Clinton, Ruth has been helpful in contacting old friends who work for the various Centers for Maledictum Research. The bureaucratic stonewall ended up being so high and dense that breaking through would’ve required an inconceivable amount of money or better connections. With hope for extraction dwindling, Ruth’s comments have grown more pointed: Veda needs to live like she’s dying, throw caution to the wind, and find someone to hold on to as long as she can. But that’s not who Veda is. The malignant blood curse has only made her more determined to cling to her dignity until the bitter end. Each day is a new test Veda passes as often as she fails. On good days, she clings to routines that give her a reason to get dressed and leave her cottage. But when the weight of her curse bears down, her days turndark, and the pain is heavily branded. Those days remind Veda why she doesn’t make plans for a future she’ll never see.
The air around them shifts, tinged with discomfort, until Ruth says, “If I’m not here when it’s time for the summer bouquets, be a dear and set one aside for me.”
“Okay,” Veda replies. Ruth has said this for the last two years, yet she’s always first in line for her bouquet of peach roses, pink ginger, and red cordyline mixed with masajeana leaves. Colorful and vibrant, like Ruth.
“Oh, and I’ll see you at next month’s town hall meeting.”
Before Veda can decline, the sisters toddle off.
Veda glances at the nearby tables. A few trinkets catch her eye, but the less she owns, the less she has to think about. Everett approaching her is as inevitable as the awkward conversation that follows. Constantly wringing his hands as if to soothe himself, he’s a skipping record, stammering through small talk as though either gives a damn about the weather or the size of today’s crowd.
“Did you look at my note?” he asks, jamming his hands into his pockets.
“Sorry,” she says, realizing she hasn’t. Her meeting with Antaris made her forget all about it. Not that it matters, as Everett hands her another before rushing off. This time, she opens it. It looks like a half-finished phone number.
