He smiles softly, his round eyes sparkling in the light that streams through the window. “You know, it’s funny,” he says with a light laugh. “Maybe it’s my age, but I can’t clearly remember how we first met. I suppose I’m simply thankful I made a good enough impression for you to let me stay around.”
She smiles softly. “You did.”
He bows out of the door, and Althea watches him through the window until he is too far to see.
“I love that man,” Althea says as she sits back down with a sigh. Marigold’s heart sinks as she observes her grandmother now, crumbling into herself on the couch.
“Would you like to head to bed, Grandmother?” she asks, looking for anything to aid in her grandmother’s comfort.
“Yes, darling. I should go now before I lose all energy to stand.” Althea laughs, but there is truth in her voice. Marigold bears all her weight as they walk into her room. She helps hergrandmother into bed, adds another blanket on top of her, and then takes her place in the rocking chair across from the bed. Picking up the book at her side, she removes the bookmark and skims over the page where they left off.
“I will warn you that this is a romance book. This next chapter is quite… descriptive. Shall I skip over it?”
“Don’t you dare! That’s the best part. Go on,” Althea says with a weak motion of her hand, and Marigold laughs loudly.
“You’re a deviant,” she says.
“I am just a woman with fantastic taste in literature. Now read,” Althea commands, and Marigold collects herself as she begins. The two of them giggle until they are blue in the face, and when they reach the end of the book, Marigold leaves to tend to the house. She spends the afternoon tending to the bees, inspecting the hives and checking on the brood nestled within the honeycomb. She brews another batch of the hay fever cure and, after bottling it and cleaning the kitchen, takes her time cooking an elaborate dinner of mushroom stew and bread rolls for her and Althea.
“When do you expect the bees will have made enough honey for another harvest?” she asks.
“I haven’t really thought that far ahead, darling,” Althea says as a morbid joke that stings Marigold harder than she possibly intended.
“Well, I think it could be soon. I’m amazed at how quickly they replenish.”
“They are amazing creatures,” Althea agrees as she fights to keep her eyes open. She drifts off for a moment and smiles in her sleep. Marigold counts the seconds between each deep breath until her grandmother jolts herself awake. “Sorry, Mari. I drifted into a dream there.”
“What did you dream of? You were smiling.”
Her eyes close as she sinks farther into the bed, her voice hardly more than a whisper. “I dreamed of my friends, when we were girls together. When I sleep, I am with them, ageless. We’re all barefoot girls with long plaited hair and baby teeth.”
“That is so lovely, Grandmother. I should very much like to meet your friends.”
“Oh, they are all on the other side now, darling. They are waiting for me.”
Silence heavies the air. Marigold picks at her nails and chews the inside of her cheek. “Well, I hope they are patient.”
Althea smiles, though her eyes remain closed. “You know, one day, I’ll be on the other side waiting for you, too. I’ll be there for you, always.”
Marigold stands at the side of the bed and hugs her grandmother. “I know you will. In the yellow flowers.” Kissing her cheek, she says, “I will let you dream now. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Mari…” Althea says, catching her before she leaves the room. “I am so very proud of you. You are the perfect Honey Witch, and I have been so lucky to watch you grow. I love you, darling.”
Marigold’s heart swells with love that tickles her belly.
“I love you, too, Grandmother. Thank you for all of this. I am so grateful to have seen the beauty you bring to the world, and I am honored that you have taught me to do the same. I know that you have brought me where I need to be.”
With that, she goes to her own room, blows out her candle, and tucks herself in. However, sleep does not come. There is a feeling of dread in her chest that burns through the night. Part of her knows that her grandmother is in her final days, but another part of her rejects that reality entirely. It is impossible to imagine the Honey Witch cottage without Althea Murr. It is equally impossible to imagine herself without her grandmother. While she had not often seen her throughout her life, Marigold could always feel her love, and she always felt connected to her. Now she knows why.
What will it feel like when her grandmother passes? She pictures a sudden pain in her side, like a knife burying itself in her ribs. She imagines a tangible bond between them breaking like a bone. Every part of her expects to feel something the verymoment that Althea passes. With two people being so similar, and so magically connected, it would seem to be an impossibility to not know when the other passes on.
In the morning, there is nothing in the air that would indicate anything is different or wrong. While sleepiness dulls Marigold’s intuition, she takes her time dressing for the day—a white flowing dress and her favorite yellow ribbon in her hair. She makes her way to the kitchen and fixes two cups of coffee before walking over to Althea’s door.
For the moment, she feels nothing.
And then, the knowing comes, and she feels everything all at once.
She drops the cups of coffee onto the floor and rushes to her grandmother’s side. In the bed, tucked beneath her many yellow blankets, lies Althea Murr, who looks to be finally at peace. While Marigold knew that this day was close, she could not have prepared herself for the sight, and she can’t hold back her screams. Her voice echoes so powerfully that it shakes the very trees of the isle. Leaves fall to the ground like teardrops. The time that she spends crying on the floor feels endless, but it feels just as sudden when a pair of strong arms pick her up and pull her into an embrace. A long beard tickles her cheek, and she recognizes the striking red suspenders out of the corner of her eye.
