66
Gemma overlooked one small detail in her plan to avoid Elodie: All of her jewelry-making equipment was at Celeste’s. By sunset, she couldn’t ignore all the orders flooding her Instagram.
Queen Anne’s Revenge was closed and she walked around back to use the private entrance. Before she reached the porch, she heard something that stopped her in her tracks: a woman crying. Gemma followed the sound to the yard, where she found Celeste at the picnic table, her head buried in the crook of her arm.
“Aunt Celeste! What’s wrong?”
Celeste looked up, wiping her eyes and glancing around as if she’d been caught doing something illicit.
“When did you get back?” she said.
“A few hours ago,” Gemma said, walking closer. “I’m staying at Maud’s.”
“Why would you— Oh. I understand. You don’t want to see Elodie.”
Surprised, Gemma slid into the bench across from her. A stray shard of wood scratched her elbow.
“How did you know?”
“She’s here, too. And she told me about the ring.”
“She did?” Hadn’t Elodie begged her not to tell Celeste? Hadn’t she specifically guilted her—and rightly so—not to bring it up and spoil Celeste’s happiness heading into her wedding?
“More than that,” Celeste said. “She gave it to me. Or tried to.”
Gemma leaned forward, avoiding the rough patch on the table. “Gave you . . . what, exactly?”
“The eternity band. Made from pieces of the Electric Rose.”
What? “You’re saying that Elodie still has one of the pieces made from the original diamond?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I thought you knew. Anyway, I asked her to leave. She lied and manipulated us over that stupid auction! I believed her when she said she sold the diamond long ago. But it’s not gone, so the curse is still here. And I can’t get married. So Jack left.”
Gemma sat up straight. “Aunt Celeste, you don’t really believe that, do you?”
“Of course I do. We’ve talked about this. As soon as my father launched that competition for the diamond, everything fell apart. And the one couple that didn’t break up because of it died.”
Gemma’s immediate thought was, Yes, exactly: It was the competition that hurt the family. Not the diamond itself. But it was clear her aunt was stuck in a kind of magical thinking, and there was nothing Gemma could say in that moment that would change her mind. If Celeste was so fearful of the curse that she was willing to break off her engagement, Gemma would need help.
She needed Maud.
Maud’s restaurant, the Clamshell, was on the bay side of Commercial. Inside, the wraparound bar was hopping, with Steve Miller’s “The Joker” playing on the sound system. Alvie stood sentry near the front door, holding a clipboard and checking off reservations. She was so busy she didn’t notice Gemma walk in, and Gemma didn’t bother her. She didn’t need to: She spotted Maud behind the bar, shaking a metal cocktail mixer. The crowd in front of the bar was three deep, and Gemma had to bump her way through, getting spilled on in the process.
“Maud!” she called out over the music. “I need to talk to you.”
Maud poured the cocktail into a martini glass. It was pale yellow and she garnished it with a maraschino cherry and a pink umbrella.
“I’m a little busy right now. We can talk back at the house. Wanna drink?”
“This can’t wait,” Gemma said.
Maud hesitated, but then blew a whistle that hung around her neck, summoning another bartender who appeared out of nowhere. She wore a referee shirt, cutoff jean shorts, and a backward Helltown baseball cap. Maud snapped her fingers at Gemma and pointed to the back of the room.
It took her a full minute to reach Maud at a pair of sliding glass doors leading to a deck. She followed Maud outside, past tables and busy servers carrying trays of burgers, crab cakes, and fries. Gemma’s stomach rumbled; she hadn’t eaten before getting on the ferry earlier. It seemed like an entirely different day.
“What’s the emergency?” Maud said when they reached the end of the dock. A fat seagull perched on the railing and looked at them as if they were intruding.
“Celeste broke off her engagement.”
Maud winced. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m surprised.”
Gemma crossed her arms. “Are you really? Surprised, I mean.”
“Yes, of course. Why would you ask that?”
“Because she talks to you about everything—all that astrological stuff. Are you encouraging her to believe in this curse?”
“We’ve discussed it, but I’ve repeatedly told her not to put too much credence in it. I can only tell her what’s in her chart or the cards.”
Gemma reached out and touched her arm. “Maud, this is serious. Jack’s a great guy. He loves her. They belong together, and now she’s freaking out and messing it up. As her friend, you need to help her.”
Maud nodded. “Of course I want to help her. I’m just not sure how. Do you know what happened?”
“Elodie told her our family’s famous diamond—the one Celeste is convinced is cursed—was sold. But then we learned that it had been broken up into smaller stones instead, and one of those smaller diamond pieces is still in the family.” The whole thing sounded insane when Gemma said it aloud.
“I see.” Maud nodded as if it were completely reasonable—as if people walked in every day off the street talking about cursed diamonds. Maybe they did. “I have an idea,” Maud said. “But we’ll need your other aunt’s help, too.”
Gemma groaned. “Can’t we do this without her? Elodie’s . . . difficult.”
Maud smiled at her with a gentle expression, as if she were a child. “There’s no way around difficulty, Gemma. Only through.”
She didn’t need the cards to tell her that. The universe was giving her the message, loud and clear.