Page 81 of Witches of Dubious Origin
“You’re right.” I shook my head. “I’m just having a hard time processing…” I waved my hand at the water. “Whatever that was.”
“Terrifying. It was bloody terrifying.”
A surprised laugh burst out of me. “I thought I was the only one who thought so.”
“Not at all. If I never see another pirate again in this life, I’m fine with it.”
“Agreed.”
“Where are we going first?” Eloise asked.
“We’re going to Toni Donadieu’s house,” Olive said. She took out her phone and consulted the route. “It’s only a ten-minute walk around the edge of the village.”
“Is that the best idea?” I asked. Panic was thrumming through my veins. I realized I was scared to go to my grandmother’s house. I hadn’t been there since the night my mom and I had fled, and I was uneasy about returning.
Olive stopped walking and turned to face me. She lowered her sunglasses and peered over the top of them at me. I was getting accustomed to that look and found I wasn’t as intimidated as usual. “Yes, it is.”
“But what if the new owners don’t like trespassers and call the police on us?” I asked.
Olive shrugged. “I don’t care.”
There were many things to admire about Olive Prendergast, but honestly, her zero-fucks-given attitude about what anyone else thought was my favorite.
“Griffin, the ferry will be docking soon,” Olive said. “Can you slip on board and retrieve our vehicle?”
“Absolutely. Text me the address where you want me to meet you, and I’ll be there.” His gaze met mine briefly before he added, “Good luck.”
He turned and walked away. I tried not to stare after him, but it was a struggle not to run after him and beg him to take me with him so I could avoid what I suspected would be a difficult emotional time for me when we arrived at Mamie’s house.
“Now, that’s a travesty!” Eloise drew my attention as she waved her hands in the direction of an organic smoothie shop with a giant blow-up pineapple in the front window. “The bakery where Toni and I used to get our morning coffee and pastry is nowthis. What evenisa pineapple cleanse? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
She looked distraught, so I stepped forward and walked beside her, falling in behind Olive. “How long has it been since you’ve visited the island?”
“Since Toni died,” she said. “I had to follow the book, which meant tracking Juliet. I almost caught up to her a few times, but she was always out of reach.”
I nodded. That checked out. My mom had popped in and out of my life so sporadically, I couldn’t imagine trying to chase her down. It made Agatha’s theory about my mom hiding in a different timeline very plausible.
“What did you do to get by?” I asked.
“I’d take odd jobs and work here and there, keeping busy while I waited. Time is rather inconsequential when you can’t die.” She sounded sad and I felt a flash of annoyance with my mom.
“Did my mother know about you?” I asked. “Did she know you were stranded without someone to help you move on?”
Eloise glanced away, looking anywhere but at me. It was answer enough and I didn’t believe her when she said, “I don’t think so.”
“I promise, as soon as I figure out how to do it, I will send you on,” I vowed.
“I appreciate that, my dear.” She patted my arm.
It occurred to me that despite her propensity for having random body parts fall off, I’d gotten quite fond of Eloise and I would be sad to see her go.
As the cluster of shops fell behind us, Olive led us along a narrow paved walkway that followed the twists and turns of the shoreline. We passed house after house. I didn’t recognize any of them. Then we turned down a narrow dirt hiking path, moving quietly through the seagrass and summer rosebushes now barren of blooms. When we turned the corner, Olive stopped abruptly, causing me to plow into her back.
She turned and glared at me, but I was too shocked to care. Rising up in front of us was a concrete, steel, and glass colossus. Olive glanced from her phone to the house and back three times before she said, “This is it.”
Something fractured inside of me then. Gone was the quirky shingled cottage with the row of wind chimes hanging across the front porch. The sanctuary I remembered had been ploweddown to make room for this modern monolithic structure. Anything that had been Mamie’s was gone and there was no way for me to get it back. The feeling of loss was unbearable in its intensity.
A gravel shortcut led past the house to the beach beyond. “Excuse me,” I muttered, and left them, not caring if the new owners saw me or not.
