by Lizzy Prince
“Munro Kearney?” she asked in a whispered voice, but her eyes didn’t leave mine again. I could feel tears trying to build, but I stubbornly pushed them away, forcing my body to take them back.
“Mari,” he finally spoke, his lilting voice breaking through the intense moment we were all having. “This is Annie. Caroline’s daughter.”
Her eyes flicked back to him briefly before hurrying past us to flip the sign on the door to closed as she locked the doors. There was a small catch in her voice as she spoke.
“I think perhaps it’d be best if we closed for the afternoon.”
***
Mari kept looking back over her shoulder as we headed down the street to her house as if she thought I would disappear if she didn’t keep me in sight. I understood because I was doing the same, except I kept trying to inspect her face. The straight slope of her nose and arched brow that was so like my mother’s but yet still different. Mari’s brows were slightly narrower and more refined. There was no doubt they were sisters and seeing this woman who looked so much like my mother was setting off small pangs of pain in my heart that kept stealing my breath.
We approached a small house packed so closely in with its neighbors that I doubted you could squeeze down the space between them to get to the back. Her street was quiet, which surprised me because I’d assumed everywhere was loud and crowded in the city. The train was a few blocks away, but it was elevated here and not underground as it was in Manhattan. The sound of it passing was a lulling shush that was oddly soothing instead of noisy.
“This is it,” she said as she walked backward, anticipation shining on her face as she looked at me with a mix of joy and nervousness.
We followed her inside, and she ushered us into the small kitchen. The decor was clean and modern with a few small shadow boxes of herbs decorating the one wall not taken up by cabinets and windows. It was tight but comfortable, with a small table and chairs pushed up against one of the walls. It sat under a window that looked out over the backyard. A brief glance showed me that most of the small yard was occupied with a garden, which was lying dormant in the winter cold. I sat on one of the chairs she motioned us toward, but Munro declined, pulling over a stool that was sitting in the corner and settling in next to me instead.
Mari fluttered around the room anxiously. “Do you need something to drink? Are you hungry? Do you need to use the bathroom?”
Her nervous energy was sweet and made it evident how much this encounter meant to her. I smiled warmly, hoping to put her at ease by showing her I was excited to be meeting her with a simple expression.
“Mari, we’re good. Please, will you sit?” Munro requested gently.
With a bit too much energy, Mari sat in the seat across from me, toppling over the salt and pepper shakers that were on the table with her fitful movements. She groaned and cursed under her breath as she reached to pick up the pair of novelty shakers shaped like two llamas and swept up the spilled seasoning in jerky movements. Trying to help settle her, I reached across the table and wrapped her hands in mine and she stilled, long-lashed brown eyes darting up to meet mine. Her whole body drooped a little as if the small touch relaxed her, and she released a long breath, her shoulders loosening in the process.
For a moment, no one spoke as Mari and I looked at one another, taking in all of the details of each other’s faces. It was like reuniting with a long-lost friend, even though we'd never met. After a minute, the edges of her mouth started to tip up, and she turned her hands in mine so she could squeeze my fingers.
“You look so much like your mother,” she whispered her eyes wide and clouded with emotion, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
“So, do you,” I said with a disbelieving laugh as I stared at the family I hadn’t even known existed before yesterday. A family that was connected to my mother, the most important woman in my life. A connection I’d thought had been lost.
She smiled and gave my hands one more squeeze before she sat back. She settled, getting more comfortable as the surprise of our arrival started to wear off.
“All right, we’ve got that bit out of the way. Now, tell me everything.”
Munro made a noise that sounded like a grunt, and we both turned to look at him; me with a grimace, Mari with a question in her eyes. Turning back to Mari, I bit my lip.
“I’m not really sure where to start,” I said, swiping my finger through the spilled salt on the table, leaving a short line of through the grains. There was so much Mari didn't know.
“Just give me the highlights, okay?”
Mari must have concluded we were there for an important reason and weren’t just dropping in for a surprise I’m your long-lost niece visit. She hadn’t seen my mom in nearly two decades, so I was sure our presence was a big red flag that something wasn’t right.
“Well, you know my mom had to go into hiding nineteen years ago.”
Mari nodded, a palpable pain radiating from her when she looked at me.
“And you knew about me, right?” I asked, chewing on my lips nervously.
A smile crossed her face, but it was sad and filled with the loss of the time we hadn’t had together. “I knew that Caroline had a little girl, but nothing else. Not even your name.”
Hearing her say my mom’s name out loud did something to my heart. It seized in my chest for a second before it started beating once again. She hadn’t changed her name, even though she’d been on the run. Her first name at least.
“It’s Annie,” I told her again, even though Munro had told her my name when we were at her store. “Annalise, actually, but no one other than my mom ever called me that. And that was only when she was yelling at me.”
Mari’s lips parted in surprise. “That was our grandmother’s name.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.” I swallowed thickly, feeling emotion swell up inside me.
Mari’s brows furrowed as she realized what I’d said before. Her eyes shifted back and forth between me and Munro.
“Wait, called?” she asked gently, and those damn tears pricked at the corners of my eyes again. I clasped my hands together, my fingers tightly weaving into one another.
“Yes.” The word was heavy with the emotion I always tried to keep locked down. “She died. Two years ago.”
Mari pushed back from the table, standing abruptly, her hand pressed against her mouth which was open in a silent scream. She started pacing in the small kitchen, not getting very far before she had to turn around and come back toward us.
“Two years ago? Oh my God. What happened?” Mari stopped her pacing and faced me as if she realized we were nowhere close to finishing our story.
“They were murdered.” I glanced briefly at Munro, realizing how strange it was to be talking about this with him right here.
Saying the word murdered made it feel so much more salacious and horrible then the word killed. But it wasn’t as if I was purposefully creating drama. I needed to tell her the truth and the truth of it was that it had been a horrendous act of evil, all at the hands of Munro's mother. Munro didn’t flinch, and my mind conflicted, both feeling bad for him but also knowing that I shouldn’t have to. It wasn’t as if he’d been the murderer, still, I could tell he felt guilty by association, especially after everything that had gone down in the warehouse.
“They?” Mari asked, her voice barely a whisper as she came to stand behind her chair, fingers digging into the wooden back until they were white with tension.
With a nod, I continued, “My mom and dad were both murdered, by Hattie.” I realized that I didn’t even know Hattie’s last name. I had a lot of doubts that Janus was her actual last name. Mari didn’t seem to need the extra identifier though. I guess Hattie was a one-named-wonder, like an evil Cher or Madonna.
Mari looked over at Munro with a comprehending look before she turned back to me. “But you got away.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I blew up our house.” I cringed, immediately realizing how flip
pant the words sounded. She hadn’t had two years to deal with the death of her sister. She was dealing with all this information in a matter of minutes.
Mari puffed out her cheeks as she blew out an audible breath, sliding down into her chair as if she didn’t have the energy to stand up any longer. Her face was pale and her eyes glassy.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be glib.” I winced at my careless words. “For nearly the last two years, all I could remember from that night was waking up on our front lawn. Our house was completely engulfed in flames and no one knew what had happened.”
“But now you remember?” she asked, her emotions shuttered as she spoke, turning to look out at her slumbering garden.
“Only recently. I started having dreams.” Her head jerked in my direction, and she frowned at me, causing me to pause.
“Sorry, go on. You were having dreams?”
I almost considered pressing her on her reaction. I wanted to know what about that sentence deserved such a scrutinized response? But I needed to get everything out first.
“Yes, it started to come back in bits and pieces through my dreams. Finally, I was able to recall everything that happened that night.”
“And what did happen?” she asked, her voice thick with dread.
“It was… she had… it was savage,” I stuttered, unable to say what I’d recalled had happened that night. The memory of finding my mother flashed through my head like a mental assault. It caused my stomach to roll uneasily.
I could sense that Munro wanted to comfort me, but we were in such an odd place. He didn’t know how to sooth my unease and I didn’t know how to let him. I wasn’t ready for his touch, and I saw the regret and pain in his eyes before he turned them away from me. Mari let out a small sound of despair, and I found her trying to keep from shedding her own tears.
“But you got away?” she asked quietly.
“I did. My magic sort of, unleashed, and I basically blew up the house. In my defense it was already on fire, I just added a bit more kindling.”
“And Hattie? Did she die in the fire as well?” Mari asked, her eyes darting over to Munro and then back to me, aware that this could be a sensitive question. We were talking about Munro’s mother, but she was also essentially asking me if I’d killed someone.
“No, she got away that night, but she’s recently resurfaced with a vengeance,” I responded so Munro didn’t have to.
Mari straightened in her seat, looking at me with certainty. “And that is why we’re having an impromptu family reunion?”
“Surprise?” I said in a very bad attempt to lighten the mood but was happily rewarded with a genuine smile.
“You are so much like your mother.” Mari rubbed her chest like her heart physically hurt, and I knew the feeling all too well.
Her comment warmed me but also broke my heart because I didn’t know Mari at all. I wished she’d had the chance to watch me grow up, to help me grow into the woman I was. Maybe now that we’d met, she would help shape me into who I would become?
“Thank you,” I whispered.
She shook her head as if collecting her thoughts before continuing, “So, what happened to bring you to me? Not that I’m at all upset about it,” she quickly added, as though afraid I would take her question the wrong way.
Munro spoke, and his words jolted me. He’d been quiet for so long, just letting Mari and I go back and forth. Even though I knew he was still there, it was as if he’d faded in the background to allow us to have time to connect.
“Annie’s magic has been bound for some time. Hattie has been trying to find a way to unbind it but hasn’t been successful. Until a few days ago.”
Mari’s head snapped back toward me, and I had to wonder if she was giving herself whiplash throwing her head back and forth as she was. “What happened a few days ago?”
“I collapsed a building.” Once again, I had this need to try to alleviate some of the tension in the situation. Instead, the words came out sounding desperate, and Mari was back to her open-mouthed gape.
Munro continued, not looking especially pleased with my explanation. “She marked me.”
Mari made an angry sound in the back of her throat that told me she understood what that meant.
“She used me to try to get Annie to free her magic—and it worked.”
“But Hattie obviously didn’t get your magic?”
“No. I literally collapsed a building around us,” I told her again.
“Ryan and I went back to search the building but there was no sign of her.”
I looked at Munro, surprised to hear those words. When had they gone there? Munro and I weren’t exactly sharing all our innermost feelings with one another at the moment, but it was still a surprise to hear.
“There’s something else isn’t there?” Mari asked. She must have sensed there was a piece of the story we hadn’t shared with her yet.
“It seems I’ve managed to bind my magic myself, without help from anyone else.”
Mari frowned at me as if unsure how that would even be possible. I hoped she wasn’t looking to me for answers because I had no clue.
“And you came to me for help?” She was obviously confused about why this had been the thing to bring us to her. “Not that I’m sad you did,” she said, reaching out to touch my hand again as if she needed some small form of contact with me. I didn’t mind because it seemed to bring me the same comfort it brought her, and I felt more at peace than I had in a long time.
She looked back over at Munro. “You and Ryan weren’t able to unbind it?”
Munro looked instantly uncomfortable and shifted slightly on his stool.
“No, they weren’t. They thought perhaps you could help.” I replied, feeling the need to cover for Munro and what had happened. But Mari didn’t miss the discomfort between us, and her eyes widened just the slightest amount. Apparently, she understood a great deal more than what was being said out loud.
The bang of the front door closing startled all of us, and my heart began to beat rapidly as the thought that somehow Hattie had followed us here lanced through my head. Which I realized was stupid the moment it went through my mind, but my body was slower to respond to the realization and stayed tense and tight.
“That’s probably Theo,” Mari said, a smile on her lips, just before a young man wandered into the kitchen dumping a bookbag on the floor. He headed toward the fridge before he saw us sitting around the table and froze with a look of surprise on his face.
“Mari? You didn’t tell me we were having our monthly Tuesday early afternoon book club today. Were you guys reading erotica? You know I don’t judge. You didn’t have to exclude me.” His look morphed into one of mock reproach.
“Theo!” Mari stood up, laughing at him as she came to stand at his side. He was tall, though not quite as tall as Munro, but close to the same height. His hair was a warm brown and a bit too shaggy causing it to curl at the nape of his neck in a way that gave him an innocent attractiveness. His grin was infectious, and he was obviously a smartass which made me feel an instant kinship with him.
“You need a haircut.” Mari looked at him with a critical eye.
“Don’t Sampson me. There’s power in these locks.”
Mari rolled her eyes and shifted her attention back to me and Munro, taking in the grin on my face and the scowl on Munro’s.
“Theo, this is my niece Annie,” she said my name with pride as if I’d done something to deserve it. I hadn’t. “And this is an old friend of the family, Munro. Annie, this is my son Theo.”
Her smile was bright, and my heart did another flip as her words sunk in. Another family member. I felt like I was collecting them like pennies today. My grin lit up to a million watts as I turned in my seat to greet Theo.
“Hi,” I said, trying to not let too much excitement shine through. He’d think I hadn’t been exposed to social situations before.
His smile responded in kind, and he winked at me before he turned to
Mari. “Wait, does that mean we aren’t discussing erotica over little finger sandwiches?”
“Gross, stop saying erotica.” Mari gave him a censoring look.
“Why not? That’s what it’s called. At least, that’s how all those books on your Kindle are categorized."
Mari shoved Theo playfully on the shoulder. “Jesus Theo, way to show your cousin how much of a shitty parent I am already.” She turned to me. “I obviously failed at trying to teach him manners.”
Their banter and the love in Mari’s eyes as she looked at Theo was genuine, and I found myself smiling at their interaction. With Theo there, our serious conversation stalled as he told ridiculous stories that had me laughing until I was holding my sides. Munro’s face on the other hand was sour and annoyed like he’d stepped in something that smelled bad. Mari bustled around the kitchen getting waters for me and Munro and offering up a bevy of snacks.
“Banana?” she said, holding up a piece of fruit with her brows raised. When I politely declined, she rummaged through the fridge, talking with her head stuck halfway inside. “I’ve got yogurt, or some cheese sticks, and these little smoothie things. Hmm, that’s a lot of dairy. Do you eat dairy?”
She popped her head back out, a frown creasing her forehead before she opened the pantry cupboard and continued throwing out random offers of food. “Granola bars? We have crunchy ones or soft. Oh, some craisins? Or a snack pack?” She held up a little cup of pudding excitedly as she swung around to look at us eagerly.
Theo walked over to her side and grabbed the pudding, placing a hand on top of Mari’s head, which was a good half foot shorter than his.
“Mom, relax. Let’s just have a policy that if anyone gets hungry, they can help themselves. Okay?” he asked, ducking to look her in the eye briefly before he looked over at me and Munro, tilting his head at us in question. “Sound good guys?”
“Yes, thank you,” I responded, still appreciating that Mari had this need to take care of us. It was such a motherly thing to do, and it made me miss my mom with a swift but hard hit of sadness. I pushed it down, smothering the ache and refusing to let it see the light of day.
