I decided to unpack and get settled. Then I’d be refreshed for when Delia got home and would inevitably take me to all her favorite spots. And I needed a shower and a nap if I was going to keep up with her.
If only that were true. Because not only was Delia’s apartment small and dated, but her water pressure was hardly more than a dribble, her fridge was empty, and her sink was full of dirty dishes that had a layer of mold growing over them.
But this was going to be fine. It just needed a little extra love. New York City was expensive, and since I couldn’t start looking for a job until Monday, I decided that I would help tidy up as a thank-you and a way to pass the time.
Then I was going to get a bagel with lox, then hunt down some red bean mochi and scout out all the food places I wanted to try. I’d find a good thrift store and then get lost in the stacks of a bookshop and go see a free movie in the park. And then see if maybe any fortune tellers were hiring on the side.
Tomorrow. Yep. I would do all of that tomorrow, and it would be amazing.
Today, I’d anxiety clean. That was all there was to do. Especially since Delia’s TV was more of a statement piece than entertainment. None of her streaming services were connected, and my social media was only another reminder of how alone I was.
Hours passed and when I’d run out of places to clean—and deli takeaway bags to stuff trash into—I collapsed onto the stained mattress on the floor and looked up at the cracked gray popcorn ceiling. The emotions bubbled up instantly, filing my eyes with hot tears of disappointment because all of this—even the scariest parts—would’ve been fun if Gwen were here withme. Instead, I was just crying at a strange ceiling, being hit with a sudden wave of knowledge that I couldn’t outrun missing her. Mocking laughter echoed up from the street and I cried harder.
What had I done?
36
Gwen
Faith and I sat in a corner booth at the Witch’s Brew Café, watching visitors snap photos. The town of Maple Hollow was everything I’d hoped it would be and more. From an outsider’s perspective, it seemed like a kitschy town designed for tourists, but I felt the magic thrumming through the place. It was spectacular. The locals really hammed it up so that it seemed too much like a gimmick for anyone to question whether the Halloween-themed attraction was hiding something real.
The café was still relatively quiet, not quite pulling in the big numbers that would apparently be flocking to town come fall. Even so, Maple Hollow seemed to hang in a perpetual state of autumn—orange-and-red trees, a golden patch filled to the brim with ripe pumpkins, and people walking around in flannels and beanies even though a one-hour paddle through the swamp would still lead to a hot, humid summer across Lake Nevermore.
Faith and I had decided to check out the café before my meeting with our new boss to discuss my social media plans for this year’s Halloween Festival. I was coming in late in the year, but considering I was the only social media marketer the town had ever known, I was sure that Billy would accept my plans with little pushback. Faith and I had started our jobs at Midnight Market with Billy on a high note. He’d already deemed us some of the most reliable workers he’d ever had, but still, getting someone unstuck from their old ways was difficult.
As some sort of apology, Astrid’s parents had managed to convince Billy to raise our wages, and they made sure to mention that their daughter would steer clear of us and not cause any more trouble.
Iris reported that Astrid was being punished with an extra year as a camp counselor for what she’d done at the talent show. I wasn’t sure if that was the type of retribution I wanted though—I’d thought camp was fun, after all, and didn’t want to be subjected to her for an extra year—but seeing her tuck her tail every time she saw me around town was good enough. I was pretty sure her parents had put some sort of hex on her that meant she couldn’t be within a hundred feet of me.
Goddess, it hurt every time I bumped into Iris.
I wanted so badly to ask how her sister was. Was Sabine enjoying New York? Had she mentioned me?
It was pathetic, but I couldn’t help myself. Maybe I needed my own hundred-foot hex to keep away from her.
Faith looked around the café like a kid in a candy store—booth and countertop seats, a witches’ broom coatrack, everything decked out in burgundy, orange, and gold. Because it was still the offseason, many of the locals were occupying their preferred spots, the vibe more casual than busy. It had been a bit of adjustment to identify all the monsters that resided in Maple Hollow, but I felt like I was quickly catching up. “This place isso cool.” Faith grinned, taking it in. “My hometown doesn’t have themed stores and cafés like this, just a lone crystal shop.”
“It is pretty cool,” I admitted. “It’s still sinking in that this is our life now, you know?”
She gave me a toothy grin, and I let myself feel grateful for my own bravery. Because no matter the outcome, I’d taken a leap all on my own and could have a lifetime of memories just like this one if I wanted it.
Billy had put us to work straight away, but Faith and I were slowly discovering all of the little, local shops around the town square. I still couldn’t help but wish that I’d explored this place with Sabine, that I could have seen it through her eyes. I still felt this weird urge to look for her in a crowd, like she might suddenly reappear. I wondered how long it would take before I wasn’t unintentionally trying to seek her out. She didn’t want this, didn’t want me. I needed to let it go.
“You’re doing the sad puppy face again,” Faith said. “You need a hug?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“There she is.” Faith grinned. “You and hugs are like a cat and wet grass.”
“There are only three exceptions: my mom, my dad, and members of the Flower Moon cabin,” I said, wanting to add that it used to be four exceptions: Mom, Dad, my Flower Moon cabinmates, and Sabine.
“Technically, that’s eleven exceptions, but you’re clearly going through some stuff, so I’m not going to point that out.”
“Appreciate it,” I quipped.
A server with a white-blonde wolf cut and a mustard apron walked up to us, notepad out, ready to take our orders. “What can I get for you?”
“An iced chai latte for me,” Faith said.
