THERE WAS SOMETHING different about our house, though I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was as if it already knew what had happened. The place brimmed with so many memories it made the sadness swell, but not to the point it overwhelmed me. Sariah was sitting at the kitchen island with her knees pulled up in front of her. Tears streaked her face, but she made it look as gorgeous as her generally perfect makeup. It was so unfair.
I sat Evelyn on the couch while Sariah made her another cup of tea. Nate took Monica to the basement while I slipped into my parents’ room. Only it wasn’t my parents’ anymore, it was just Mom’s room. Pushing the sadness down again before it could overwhelm me, I crawled onto the bed next to her.
The room was dim, but she lay in a ray of sun coming through the window. Her face was grim and sallow, her eyes a little sunken. She lay on her side in the fetal position, her hands clutched to her breast as if she could hold her breaking heart together. I spooned behind her, holding her hands. She nestled her head under my chin, and we lay in silence. I imagined comfort and peace flowing out of my hands into her—along with strength and courage. We could get through this; we were made of strong stuff. My mind drifted, not focusing on anything other than the emotions I was feeding her.
The sun cut a path across the sky and lit her face. Finally, she began to show signs of life. She moved away from me and sat on the opposite side of the bed, still clutching my hand. After a long moment, I wondered if she just wanted to be alone. She turned to me with a smile, patted my cheek, and stood. We went to the kitchen, her still holding my hand in both of hers. Sariah and Xander straightened abruptly, shock apparent in their wide eyes and jerky movement. Mom dropped my hand and took Xander’s. I took Sariah’s and with a slight grimace she took Xander’s. One of these days I would figure out what the problem was between them, but not today. Nate stood in the door to the basement, unsure whether to join us or give us a moment.
“Your father would not want us to stop just because he’s not here,” Mom said. Her voice was so firm my heart swelled with pride. Strength welled in me, and I felt myself straighten. I don’t honestly know if was supernatural or not, but I welcomed the lead in my spine no matter where it came from. “The plan hasn’t changed. We take Evelyn to the coven in Springfield. They can sever the spell her mother is using to drain her. Once we do that, we’ll have to leave here forever. I want each of you to pack a suitcase.” She met each of our eyes then turned to include Nate as well. “You need to go home and do the same, Nate. I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here either. We gave you the choice to stay out of this. Now Monica knows what you are. I'll talk to your aunt. You don’t have to come with us, but it’s not safe here for you.” Nate nodded, his face blank. I wanted to grab his hand and tell him I was sorry we had drug him into all this. He tried to give me a reassuring smile, but it was weak and sad. He turned and walked out the door. Mom turned back to us. “We'll be out of this house by five.”
My walk through the house to my room was slow and nostalgic. I checked on Evelyn. She was improving every moment—her skin a healthier shade, her eyes less sunken. Hugging her cup to her chest, she sat with her legs folded underneath her. Her eyes still had a faraway look. She looked lost, and I felt sorry for her. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she never looked up at me.
The climb up the stairs seemed almost epic, but soon I stood in the middle of my familiar room. I pulled my old grey suitcase out of my closet and laid it on my bed, quickly putting most of my new clothes and daily essentials in it. Grabbing the silver frame off my bedside table, I ran my hand over the family portrait. A tear slid down my face, but I wiped it away and thrust the picture into the suitcase. I added a little jewelry box my father had given me and other small personal items, before zipping the bag. Packed but not really ready to go, I sat on my bed surrounded by my familiar things. The grief I had been ignoring overwhelmed me as the reality of leaving the only home I’d ever known hit me. There was no shoving it away this time. Clutching my pillow to my chest, I sat on the bed and sobbed. I have no idea how long I cried, lost in my own pain and misery. Arms wrapped around me, and I took comfort in them not caring who held me. Sorrow poured out of me until I had no more strength to cry, I backed away sniffling. I felt a small stab of panic when I realized it was Nate’s arms around me, but then I saw the tears on his face. With a cock of my head, I realized that just because he wasn’t blood didn’t mean Nate wasn’t family. He was feeling my father’s loss too.
“My god, Amelia, how do you hold that much pain in? I’d be catatonic if I hurt that much.” His voice was gruff and raw, and I wondered how much of my emotions he could really feel. Would it lessen my grief to let him take it?
“I don’t have a choice.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “Daddy wouldn’t want me to give up.” I shrugged and gave him my best smile, but it was weak and pathetic.
“He would be so proud of you. You have been so strong today, Amelia.” I usually hated when people used my full name. It generally meant I was in trouble or talking to a stranger. But for some reason when Nate used it, it made me feel beautiful and wanted.
He grabbed my suitcase and headed downstairs, giving me one last moment in my room. I thought of all the moments I’d had in this room, good and bad. They replayed like a movie in my mind—all the laughter, all the tears. Everywhere I looked there was a memory. Tan splotches of paint on the windowsill from the paint war Dad and I had while covering the Princess mural. The dot of nail polish Evelyn had dripped on the floor while painting my nails. I glanced out the window at the flat roof I spent many hours sitting on in the last several months. It was hard to believe only 48 hours had passed since I jumped off it to go see Evelyn. It seemed odd that two days was all it took to completely change my life. I looked longingly at my bed wishing I could climb in and pull the covers over my head to make this all go away. Instead, I pushed the nostalgic feelings away and joined my family.
We had a Grounding for Dad—a burial specifically for nature spirits. It wasn’t much of a ceremony, held in the side yard beneath the cherry tree that held so many memories for all of us. An earth sprite said a few kind words before the earth swallowed his body. We all said goodbye, without a dry eye to be seen. Mom planted a lily on his grave and fed it with enough life and energy to keep it blooming for decades. One by one we turned away and filed back into the house. I squeezed Mom’s hand before turning to follow the rest, giving her one last moment to say goodbye.
There was quite a bit of debate of what to do with Mrs. Matthews, but in the end we left her duck taped to one of the bar stools in the kitchen. None of us were certain what Evelyn had done to her, but she assured us her mother wasn’t hurt and would wake soon enough. We made one last sweep through the house, grabbing anything that seemed important. I lingered a few minutes in front of my dad’s books, fingering the familiar spines. I grabbed an old leather bound one he had been particularly fond of and held it to my chest. I shoved it into my suitcase and headed to the driveway.
We loaded everything into Mom’s minivan and climbed in. I pressed my face against the windowpane as we pulled away from the house I’d grown up in feeling like I was losing my best friend. Nate took my hand and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Wanting to be alone with my feelings, I squeezed back then gently released his hand. His mouth twisted a little, but he didn’t say anything.
We merged onto the interstate in silence. The last ties to this town, this life died. Everything that really mattered was now in this car. There was a hole in my heart where my father had always been, but in time it would heal. We would be whole and happy again, I reassured myself as we plunged into the night. Uncertainty was slowly replaced with hope.
But the nagging feeling that the other shoe was still going to drop lingered.