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“Knock, knock.”
Beverly didn’t wait for Eden to open her door. She walked right in, then hurried out of the way as Harrison backed inside, carrying one end of a large dining table. Arthur followed, holding up the opposite side.
“I ordered a new dining table, and I noticed when I brought the casserole last week that you don’t really have one. So I thought I’d send over my old one. It’s still in good condition. I’d hate for it to go to waste.”
“I have one.” Eden’s voice faltered as she motioned towards the pathetic little table sitting in the middle of her dining room.
“I’m sure you can use this somewhere else.” Beverly took hold of the little table and dragged it out of the way, making room for the solid, rectangular table. “Don’t worry, I have chairs, too. Eight of them.”
“What am I going to do with eight chairs?” Eden asked.
“Hello.” Dotty’s voice carried from the entry. She peeked her head inside the dining room, then the rest of her followed. She was carrying a plate of goodies. “I made these chocolate chip cookies.” She set them down on the large table. “I’ll just put them here.”
“Thank you, Dotty. I think I’ve gained ten pounds in two weeks.” Eden went into the kitchen, took a plateful of carmelitas out of the cupboard, and brought them to the table. “Arthur brought these yesterday. They’re too good not to share.”
Arthur smiled shyly. “I think I’ve perfected that recipe now. You’re going to love what I’m working on next.”
Dotty smiled. “It’s nice to see you cooking again, Arthur.”
“I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I wasn’t. It’s strange having the house to myself after so many years.”
As strange as it was, Eden couldn’t help feel the loss of Yolanda, too. Even as the room was filling with people, it felt like there was an empty space in her dining room. She half-expected to hear Yolanda’s overbearing voice raise above all the others.
Yolanda wasn’t likely to grace the neighborhood with any more tacky, oversized memorials or loud declarations in favor of self-expression. From now on, she’d be spending her time doing chalk drawings and modge-podging away in a mental institution in Omaha. It was the best that could be done, under the circumstances.
Yolanda had spent the day after that horrible night alone and sobbing behind closed doors. It probably had something to do with Jack, who’d spent that time very close by, making certain she remained inconsolable until the police came by to question her. It seemed like the only way to make sure no one else got hurt.
Eden had recovered enough to go back outside as soon as the police car pulled up, and she’d expended a great amount of energy concentrating on the house across the street. It seemed to have worked, because Yolanda had experienced a sudden need to clear her conscience. She told the officer everything, from the way she’d stolen Martha’s powers and used them to strangle her, to the way she’d pushed Arthur down the steps and called lightning down from the sky. Her confession, combined with Arthur’s testimony, convinced them that Yolanda was a danger to herself and others.
Dotty walked over to Eden and placed hand lightly on her arm. “Jack wanted me to take a look at that scar. Would you mind?”
Eden lifted her sleeve. A feathery scar, like frost making its way across a window pane—like a small bolt of lightning—spread from her shoulder nearly to her elbow.
“Jack said it should have gone away by now.”
“It doesn’t seem to want to. As traumatizing as it all was, I don’t know if I want it to.”
Eden still remembered the pain, how it had scorched her arm and spread through her. She’d fallen unconscious, and had woken in a hospital bed, the scent of burnt hair turning her stomach. Thanks to Gloria (a vine that had saved your life surely deserved a name) pulling her away, she’d avoided a direct hit. She’d healed quickly. In fact, the whole experience had made her stronger. Yolanda had been right about one thing. Eden’s inheritance felt like a curse at times, but it was power. She’d decided then and there she’d learn to wield it, and use it responsibly. Not to hurt but to help.
“Well, at least the blisters have all healed. Jack will be happy to hear that.”
Eden gave Dotty a weak smile. She hadn’t heard from Jack once since that night. Every now and then she’d peek outside, half-expecting to see him waiting in his spot at the end of her walkway. Once she’d thought she’d heard a ting at her window. When she’d looked out there was nobody. It was probably just an acorn that had fallen against the glass.
She wanted to tell Jack that it wasn’t his fault. That if anything, he’d saved her life. But then she remembered his face as he’d jumped off her porch. She couldn’t blame Jack for keeping his distance.
Beverly’s kids appeared in the doorway, carrying chairs. “Mom, we brought all the chairs over like you ordered. They’re in the driveway. Ooh, are those cookies?”
Everyone shuffled outside to get them. As Eden picked up a chair, she paused in the driveway, her eyes traveling over the neighborhood. Most of the garish décor had been removed, but it wasn’t the same neighborhood Eden had moved into. Clixie’s house remained a colorful expression of everything she’d been holding in for so many years. Dotty had added a rather large bird feeder to her yard, one that definitely exceeded regulation height. It seemed the residents weren’t going to hide behind the façade of an overly perfect exterior anymore. They were going to express who they were, even if it was just in little ways. Surprisingly enough, Beverly seemed to accept it. In fact, Eden had even seen Beverly hang a small wind chime on her porch. She’d smiled as she’d stepped back to admire it, then tapped it with her fingers to let the chimes clink. Eden hadn’t said a word.
As they settled the chairs into place, Clixie came in with a plate full of fried bread. “It’s manriklo. My mother used to make it. This one has bacon and rosemary and cheese baked in. She used to kiss it before she ate it, and it was never to go to waste. I didn’t want to risk the bad luck, so you’ll have to share it with me.”
Beverly’s son grabbed one, but it nearly slipped out of his fingers.
“Now, be careful. If you drop it, you have to apologize,” Clixie said, setting the plate on the table.
Eden frowned. Since her barely coherent conversation with Clixie on the night of the storm, she’d feared the possibility of Clixlie slipping again. But as long as Eden was nearby she’d been able to communicate normally, at least until today.
“Oh, don’t worry, dear,” Dotty said. “That’s true. Our ancestors practically worshipped bread.”
“My kind of people,” Eden said. “If they could have seen into the future, they probably would have been the most horrified by all the no-carb diets.”
“Some of them could,” Beverly said. “That’s probably why they wanted no part of it.”
Clixie turned and took Eden’s arm. “You asked me about the potpourri we used to make, with all the calming herbs.” She passed Eden a notecard. “It sounds like you have some big plans.”
Eden smiled. “I do. It’s in the early stages right now, but I should have a website up within a month or so. I’m going to be selling gardening tools to start off with. Homemade items like this will have to come later, when I can get my garden growing.”
“I’m going to take a look and see what other recipes I can find.” Clixie’s brow knotted. “I’m sure Martha kept a book. That would be the perfect thing.”
Eden’s lips turned up. She’d never returned Martha’s book. But she figured if she was going to take care of Martha’s baby, she’d need the knowledge to go with it.
Everyone took a seat and passed around the goodies. Eden couldn’t help but notice every chair was full.
“Eden? Hello?” Gabi said. “Did you hear that ping? It means you have a voicemail. I swear you need a louder ring tone.” Eden pulled her phone out of her pocket, excusing herself as she walked out front to escape the noise. “Who’s it from?”
“Madison, from Hoodoos. I didn’t even listen because I know you’ve been waiting to hear from her and I wanted you to hear it first.”
“Thanks, Gabi.” Eden sat down on the front steps, letting Gloria wrap around her leg. She stroked her as she waited to hear the message.
“Hi, it’s Madison. You asked me about our referral program, and you wanted to know who referred Martha Thorne to our store. I don’t normally give this kind of information so promise you won’t tell.”
Eden stared out the narrow window beside her front door as Madison gave her the name of the person who might be able to help her find out who had cursed her grandmother and Kem Skelton.
“You know, you could just let it go,” Gabi said, and Eden detected a note of teasing in her tone. “It’s not as if uncovering the past will do them any good now.”
Eden’s eyes locked onto a tall figure in green scrubs was walking away from her house. He paused briefly, glancing over his shoulder.
“I think the truth is always worth pursuing,” Eden answered.
The End