Page 35 of Magic and Matrimony

“Piper, would you mind giving me and dear old mother here a few minutes?”

Piper nods and disappears upstairs. What a fucking day. I’m worn out and I haven’t even done anything besides eat tacos and visit a scary old woman.

“Really, Ambrose, you act as if it’s an inconvenience to see me.” My mother swipes her finger over a vase. She rubs it against her thumb as if everything in the house is coated in dust. She’s so disappointed. It’s exhausting.

“Would you like to go to the great room? Or do you want to stay in the front hall?” I gesture toward the massive living room. My mother sniffs and briskly walks into the other room.

“Can you have someone bring us some tea?” she says as she sits in my favorite chair. I sigh and flop onto one of the sofas.

“I don’t have servants, Mother. So if you want tea, you’ll have to make it yourself.”

“Can’t your wife make it?” She emphasizes the wordwife.

“I’m not asking Piper to come back down here to wait on you. Is this why you came over? For tea?” I glance over at the bottles of booze lined up against the wet bar in the corner. I might need a drink.

She waves her hand dismissively and leans back in the chair, crossing her legs. She’s wearing an outfit more suited to the Mediterranean than Mystic Hollows in March. Breezy wide-legged pants and a striped lightweight sweater are rounded out by a pair of espadrilles.

When she doesn’t say anything else, I begin to lose patience. “Why exactly are you here?”

“Can’t I visit with my son?” she snaps.

“There’s a first time for everything.” I raise a brow. Fuck it, it’s been a long day. I’m ready for a drink. I get up off the couch to my mother’s scoffing and pour myself a drink. “Would you like one?” I hold up my glass, but she once again waves me off.

“Do you know what you’re getting into with this council business?” She smooths the hem of her sweater, even though it’s perfectly flat.

“I’m not sure any of us do. These trials are a first, from what I understand.” I stay by the bar, knowing I’ll need a refill before long.

“I meant the council. Do you really want that kind of responsibility?”

“Do you?” I ask, cocking my head to study her. “In all seriousness. Is that something you want? You rarely show up for coven events. You’ve hardly ever been involved with council decisions in the past ten years. At least I hope you weren’t a part of their horrible choice to curse the entire coven.”

“Of course not.” Bianca clutches her pearls. Real ones that adorn her neck. She fiddles with the matching earrings. “But it’s my responsibility as a member of one of the founding families to be a part of the coven council.”

My mother has always been a Roth. My father took her last name when they married because it was the name with power, with history, in this town. Although my father was still from a powerful family as well. They were both cursed before they passed it along to me.

“Maybe it’s time for you to turn over that responsibility to me. I’m also a Roth.”

“Who has flitted around from girl to girl, never settling down, or growing up.”

I hum, throw back my drink, and pour another. “What an odd thing to say to a recently married man.”

My mother makes a dramatic sound. “Please. Don’t play me for a fool. That girl is meek and has the personality of a mouse. I know you’re not seriously interested in her.”

I slam my glass down on the bar, startling Bianca. “Her name is Piper. She’s my wife, and you aren’t going to speak about her this way.” So what if I’ve had the same thoughts in the past? I’ve been proven wrong. Piper only seems quiet. There’s a firebrand buried under the surface; she just doesn’t always know how to coax it out.

Since we’re speaking our minds today, I ask the one thing that has bothered me for years. “How about this, Mother? Why don't you tell me why you’re always running? Why couldn’t you stay in Mystic Hollows for more than a handful of days whenI was growing up? Or hell, you could have taken me with you. Did you realize as soon as you popped out a kid that you weren’t meant for that life? A little late, but there it is.” I shrug as if to say,whoops, I had a baby, and turns out, I have no maternal instinct.

She rises from the chair, my favorite fucking chair, and straightens her sweater. “I’m leaving. I don’t need to be subjected to this callous treatment.”

I shake my head, watching her disappear once again.

“Just be honest with me. For once in your life,” I call out.

She pauses in the opening that leads to the hall, her hand running over the carved wood of the archway. When she speaks, she doesn’t look at me, and her words are so quiet I almost can’t hear her.

“Because you remind me of what we did. The curse that we passed on. Every time I look in your face, I see my own guilt.” Her chin is tucked, her eyes downcast.

For what might be the first time, my mother is being honest with me. I’m stunned and angry. All this time and it’s because of this fucking curse. Again.

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