“College algebra is actually something you probably need all the time for your store,” Posey says, dusting off her sleeve.
“Stop it,” I tell them. “Just because Rose can’t count to eleven without sandals on isn’t any reason to be mean to her. Come on, let’s go see what Grandma and Hazel figured out.”
“That’s a good one,” Posey tells me as Rose scowls.
Caleb, for his part, simply continues to look thoroughly amused by the three of us.
Or maybe just by me.
Nineteen
Somehow the old pink Victorian feels different than it did last night. There’s a tension to it now. The minute I step through the door, followed closely by my sisters and Caleb, Gunner trotting at my side, that tension crackles across my skin and sends the hair on my arms straight up.
Whatever’s happening with the town, with the rumble in the depths of the ocean, and with the unexpected storm that broke and flooded across Silverlight Shore last night, it’s affecting the energy in the house.
An expectation rides it.
Almost like the feeling when you’re swimming on the beach and a wave starts to suck you out before it crashes over the shore, and you hold your breath and dive to the bottom and hope that you make it up for air before the next one crashes.
That’s the way the house feels right now.
“Hazel?” I call out, hoping to hear good news as soon as I can.
“In the living room,” she says.
Sure enough, she’s icing her foot, propped up on several old needlepoint pillows that were my grandmother’s pride and joy, an ice pack draped over her swollen ankle.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her.
“I don’t think it’s broken. I think it’s just a grumpy sprain. It should be fine in a few more days,” she says, wiggling her toes at me and grinning.
“What’d Grandma say?” I ask.
“Slow down. I want to hear about last night,” she says.
Caleb walks into the room.
“Oh, I mean I want to hear about why you didn’t get my car last night,” she says, too quickly. Then her smile drops. “Shoot. I bet the whole thing’s flooded out now, huh?”
“It might be,” Caleb says.
“Caleb, do you think you could maybe make us lunch so we can all talk?” Hazel asks, her eyes darting between the four of us.
Gunner jumps up on the couch and licks her face. “Don’t worry about that, Hazel,” he says. “Ivy already spilled the beans.”
“Gunner,” she says, shocked.
Her head slowly swivels to me and Rose and Posey nod at her knowingly.
Fig dances on top of Rose’s shoulder before she takes flight and lands on her perch on the fireplace mantle.
“She told him everything. And there were enchanted octopi,” Fig says. “You missed it, Hazel, you would have loved it.”
“I’m not sure they were enchanted,” Oatmeal argues. “I think they were just there to help.”
Hazel puts both of her hands up, the book she’s been holding on her lap nearly falling off before she catches it again.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you mean? What are you talking about here? Octopi? You told Caleb you’re a witch?” she says.
