Xeni nodded, then let out a deep, shaky breath. The breath carried a layer of pain with it. She’d miss her aunt for the rest of her life, but this was the way she wanted to say goodbye. This was the quiet moment she craved, away from the noise of her family. She knew the peace she felt was Aunt Sable herself, saying her goodbye, letting Xeni ago. She was still devastated, but grateful all at the same time.
She watched the water for a few minutes more, then she turned to Bess. “I’m starving,”
“Lucky for you, McInroy’s Cafe is open today and Mason is a good cook. Come on.”
Xeni stood and dusted off the seat of her pants. The damp spots would dry soon enough. She let Bess link their arms together and lead the two of them out of the forest.
2
“Idon’t like that you’re there alone,” Xeni’s mother, Joyce, yelled through the phone. She didn’t quite grasp the concept of the car’s Bluetooth function. She didn’t need to raise her voice just because she was in the car.
“You could have come with me. I told you that.”
“No, I couldn’t. Knowing Sable, she’d have the locals waiting with shot guns at the town line just to keep us away.”
Xeni couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. “There were no guns for me. Just a man with two goats. I had to answer his riddles three before he was willing to get me to the town square. There, two witches with four goats waited for me. I—”
“Yeah, okay. That’s enough.”
“Everyone has been very nice and her friend Bess has been very accommodating.”
“At least someone has some kindness and common sense left in them.”
“What are you and Daddy doing tonight?” Xeni asked, changing the subject.
“Oh nothing. I’m on my way to pick him up from urgent care.”
“Is he okay?”
“Oh yeah, his shoulder is just acting up. I keep telling him he’s too old to be climbing up on roofs.” Xeni had to agree. Her step-dad was fit for his age, but he wasn’t young anymore. Roofing was tough work. A picture of her aunt’s house popped into her mind again. If she could sell it for enough, maybe her step-dad could afford to retire a little early. Or maybe they could keep it and use the rental income. She breathed out the compound guilt gnawing at her. She’d figure it out.
“That’s smart. Tell him to rest. I’ll call him later and nudge him to take it easy.”
“Please. He’ll listen to you. You find your grandma’s brooch yet?”
“No,” Xeni sighed. “I haven’t, and if I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
“There’s no if. I know she has it. Your grandmother told Hazel she could have it and—”
“Mommy, I know. As soon as I find it, I’ll let you know. I should go.”
“Okay. I love you. And remember, don’t feel guilty about whatever she’s left you. The house, a little bit of money. Your cousins already got their checks. I talked to Rosia before I left the house. I know your aunt left you a little more and the house and that’s yours. You do what you want with it.”
“I will.”
“But your grandmother’s jewelry—”
“Okay, I’m going!”
“Okay, okay. Call me when you're done.”
“I will.” She ended the call before her mom could go on another tear.
After she let out another deep breath, Xeni glanced up at the white, weather-beaten sign jutting out over the street. Bart Barber, Attorney at Law. Bess had already headed inside, but there were still a few minutes before their meeting with Mr. Barber began. She looked back down at her phone and opened the LetsChat app. She’d silenced notifications from the chattiest group in her phone, but she couldn’t miss the “36” backlit in bright blue next to the words INTERSECTIONAL FEMINISTS OF BENETTON.
Her thumb hovered above the screen for a few moments as she reconsidered jumping back into the conversation. Even though the girls were at work now, she knew it would only take a few moments before one of them responded. She wasn’t ready to do the catch-up and the debrief. She slipped her phone back in her bag and walked up the few worn stone steps into the brick Colonial. Inside, the only thing that made it seem like a converted office space was the furniture. Bess was sitting in one of the few chairs making up a small waiting area against the wall. An older White woman with dyed black hair sat behind a massive, cluttered desk next to a fireplace that looked like it had been built some time in the late seventeen hundreds.
“Martha, this is Xeni,” Bess said, motioning between them.
