Page 17 of Solstice

“Don’t be stupid, Jason. I’m the one who walked away. You don’t owe me a thing.”

He shrugged out of his coat and draped it on a hook inside the door, next to Uncle Gerald’s old hurricane lamp. Then he stepped away from the snowy entry rug, leaving his boots behind. “I’m not talking about what happened ten years ago, honey. I’m talking about what I did today.” Dori frowned at him. His tone was so gentle it frightened her. “I mean, not that I don’t want to talk about our past—I do. I’d love it, it’s just—”

“What did you do today that requires an apology?”

He lowered his head, walked across the kitchen to the stove and turned on a burner. Picking up the teakettle, he gave it a shake, heard enough splashing to satisfy him and set it on the burner. He glanced over his shoulder at her. She was standing in the doorway between the little kitchen and little living room, leaning against one side, watching him, arms crossed over her chest.

“You have cocoa?”

“It’s in the second canister.”

He nodded and took out a couple of packets of hot cocoa mix, snatched two mugs from the wooden mug tree on the counter and emptied the packets into them.

“Spoons?” he asked.

“Middle drawer. What is it you came to apologize for, Jason?”

He located the spoons, removed two of them. Then he wadded up the empty cocoa packets and spotted the wastebasket. He went to toss them in, but paused as a deep frown etched itself between his eyebrows, “What’s this?”

“It’s nothing. Jason, don’t—”

Too late. He bent and snatched the sculpture out, rising with it and brushing coffee grounds off it. He held it up, staring at the nude female form standing atop the crescent moon.

“Looks old,” he said.

“The figure is a reproduction.”

“Of?”

She sighed. “The Goddess. It’s one of the older images of Her known as the Nile Goddess, I believe. The modem artist added the moon and the starry backdrop.”

He lifted his eyes to hers. “So, what’s she doing in the garbage?”

“I don’t know.” She lowered her head. “I don’t know anything anymore.” That tears sprang into her eyes angered her, but she managed to keep them hidden. She heard water running, and when she looked up again, he was rinsing the sculpture clean, holding it almost reverently, his hands sliding over her to brush the coffee grounds away. Dori brought him a towel from the rack. He took it from her and patted the figure dry.

“What happened, Dori? You decide to stop believing in magic?”

She nodded. “I decided to. I tried to. Even thought I had for a while. But I don’t think it took.”

He smiled. “Let’s hang her back up, hmm?”

“Not yet. I should do a cleansing first.”

He frowned, a little furrow in his brow that made her want to smooth it away with her finger—or maybe her lips.

“I…thought that’s what I just did,” he said.

She smiled. “A ritual cleansing. It’s a little different.”

“Will you show me?”

“Oh, come on, Jason. You aren’t really interested in seeing—"

“I really am.”

He sounded so sincere. The teakettle whistled. Dori found herself conceding. “All right. If you’re sure.” He nodded. “You make the cocoa, then,” she said. “And bring a bowl of snow from outside. And I’ll get the room ready.”

Chapter Five

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