Page 16 of Magdalene Nox

“And yet you said nothing.” Magdalene’s breath hitched, her astonishment complete.

“What was I supposed to say? You were sixteen and heartbroken. I sent you to Europe and gave you that hideous watch you keep wearing.” Candace pointed her empty brandy glass towards Magdalene’s Vacheron, which was dangling heavily on her wrist as always, before continuing.

“I also found another school for you. Did you want me to have a conversation about the birds and the bees with you, Magdalene?” Candace shifted uncomfortably on the more than comfortable couch, and the corners of Magdalene’s mouth twitched.

“No, I just—”

“I never cared about who you slept with, Magdalene. Despite my few shortcomings as a mother, my voting record, or my off-shore financial holdings, your sexuality was never an issue for me.”

A few shortcomings…

Magdalene suppressed a snort, and when the revelation had sunk in, she opened, then slowly closed her mouth. Not that she hadn’t wondered whether her mother might know. An eighteen-year-old Magdalene had been ready to give up everything for Candace’s best friend at the time, a very-much married and very-much-in-her-forties Dolores Evergreen Lopez. Candace had never said a word, and Magdalene had believed that her mother didn’t care one way or the other.

However, if Magdalene found her mother’s proclamation surprising, the revelations just kept on coming.

“You have been after that accursed school for three decades. I know, because I didn’t give you that watch as a penance, and yet, despite all the money in the world, you keep wearing it, like a ball and chain.”

Magdalene shook her wrist, the habit long ingrained under the weight of the heavy platinum and steel. The Vacheron made the now-familiar sound, all expensive metal and regret.

“And while I have my thoughts on that,” Candace pointed a coral tipped finger towards the watch, “and on how healthy or unhealthy that might be, I have to say I am astonished at you. And because you so rarely surprise me, my girl, I’m concerned.”

So the conversation may not be about the watch, after all. Magdalene stood up, preparing for whatever her mother was about to unleash. Yet Candace’s eyes turned gentle instead. Such a rare sight, Magdalene almost gaped.

“You’ve wanted to be in this damn position longer than you’ve had the watch. And I think you’ve been wearing it all these years to remind yourself of whatever imaginary debt you think they owe you.” This time, Magdalene did gape.

However, Candace wasn’t done. “They finally gave you what you've been striving for, no matter how unhealthy this desire of yours may have been. And yet here you are, barely touching the paperwork and walking from room to room in a daze. Now if you were me, I’d say this is about dick. But since you’re not me and bisexuality is weirdly a thing for you, it’s a toss up. Still, let me put my money on pussy.”

For a moment, Magdalene was certain she hadn’t heard her mother correctly. But then Candace smiled widely, too widely, because she knew she’d scored a direct hit, then stood up from the couch and waved both of her hands at Magdalene, who could feel the heat rise in her cheeks.

“My girl, whoever it is, whatever happened between you, keep your eyes on the prize. You’ve waited thirty years. I may not support this obsession, but I understand it. It’s your time. Do your worst, and don’t let anything stand in your way. Or should I say ‘lay’?”

With that last shot, Candace stepped out of the room, the scent of Guerlain following her in the fuchsia mist of her boa.

6

OF FAMILIAR FACES & ENTRANCES WELL MADE

The wind was mussing her hair, tangling the strands that curled just below her jawline, but Magdalene refused to go inside the cabin.

The ferry voyage was, as always, abysmal. She hated absolutely everything about it. The ocean was choppy, making the crew take extra care on their routine passage. Once upon a time, Magdalene had known the schedule for the ferry boats by heart. The fact that the cashier wordlessly handed her a ticket for passage at 9:17AM, a time Magdalene had chosen off the top of her head, somehow unnerved her. Thirty years later, and she still remembered.

So some things hadn’t changed. And maybe her mother was right, that holding on to them for this long wasn’t entirely healthy. She pushed away the thought, and as she shrugged, the watch jiggled on her wrist, as always too big on her slender arm.

She hugged herself tightly, deliberately ignoring the slight tremble in her fingers. As a testament to things not changing, the cliffs in the distance ahead of her stood sentry, guarding the island she had last stepped off of as a sixteen-year-old. Would they welcome her now, a renowned expert in her field, with a reputation that made thousands stand up straighter, and a name that opened every door in the US education system? Hell, she might as well add the Canadians in there, since they were scared shitless of her as well.

But as the scent of her own perfume stirred up by the relentless wind reached her senses, Magdalene thought that, for all her achievements, for all her strife, there were three entities watching her approach that wouldn’t care. The Dragons.

She rubbed her neck and realized that, once she started assigning sentience to goddamn rocks, she must be overtired. Her sleep had been anything but restful the night prior.

Enough of this nonsense…

Her phone buzzed, and she held her breath just for a second before looking at the display. She exhaled, and this time she picked it up, the movement slower than usual and a touch discombobulated by the thoughts and portents surrounding her.

“Nox.” She drew strength from the one word. Magdalene had not chosen much in her life until she was twenty-five, but the name? The name she’d made her own at marriage, and it was now hers more so than it had ever been Timothy’s. So when the time had come, she’d refused to give it up.

“Maggie-baby!” George’s voice, too cheerful for 9AM, grated in her ear. “Where are you? Please don’t tell me you refused the charter and took a ferry, leaving without me!”

Magdalene winced. Not for one second had she considered that her secretary would have liked to accompany her on her first trip to the island. A place where they’d both be expected to live and work for the next twelve months, yet one George had never set foot on.

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