As she raged at her mother, Ame remembered the ‘shroom trip. Oh! She said this would happen. The Woman in Wool had predicted that Ame and Eli would turn on Gretchel. Ame refused to let that dripping bitch be right.
She took deep breaths and wiped at her tears. Okay. She thinks she’s gotten me. So, my mother betrayed me. It’s not the end of the world. Now I know that Troy is just the abusive asshole my mom married, and I know that Eli is really my dad. This is good! This is what I wanted! I will not let a freaking ghost be the boss of me. I can be as strong as Great Grand Mama. I can rise above this anger.
Ame took a few more deep cleansing breaths.
Nope, still pissed. Evidently, rising above her anger was easier said than done.
She knew that she would go back to the farmhouse. She knew that she would forgive her mother. But, right now, she needed to drive very fast down winding country roads. Maybe while screaming obscenities at ancient curses, Scottish ghouls in wet dresses, and several generations of redheaded women with terrible taste in men.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Irvine, 2010s
When Eli ran out of the house, Diana had gone after him. But he was in the car, following Ame, before his mother even had a chance to shout his name. Given that she was stranded at Snyder Farms until he returned, she had little choice but to go back inside.
Well, she thought, maybe I can coax a little more information out of Miss Poni. It’s obvious that this is the right bloodline— Diana nearly choked on the bile that rose when she admitted this to herself—but there hasn’t been a single mention of the box or the quaich. And where the hell is that damn amethyst?
As Diana stepped back into the living room, she cringed at the sight of her laptop, projector, and screen. She had come to prove to Eli—definitively, beyond a doubt—that he was wrong about Gretchel’s family. But he hadn’t been, of course. If only I had listened to him! All those years, wasted! And poor Eli!
Analyzing her own mistakes was making Diana increasingly uncomfortable. This sort of self-reflection was not her style. But thinking about her son gave her a new focus for her anger and frustration. Gretchel! Is there no end to her capacity for betrayal?
Marcus was sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands. Holly sat beside him, her arm draped gently over his shoulder. Cindy was helping Miss Poni back to her room. The events of the day had clearly taken a toll on her, but she still had enough spirit to stand up tall and address Diana in a clear voice.
“You’re our guest, Ms. Stewart, and you’re welcome here. Ella’s in the kitchen putting away that fine supper we never ate. If you’re in the mood for country ham, ask her for a plate. It’s my hope that we’ll all find some peace before the night is done. I’m sure you’ll agree that we’ve all had enough excitement for one day.”
“I’m not at all sure that it was me disturbing the peace, Miss Poni.” Even Diana was surprised by her ill-mannered display. What was it about these people that made her so hostile?
Marcus raised his head and Cindy narrowed her eyes, but Miss Poni just smiled. Eli’s mother was a good foot shorter than her—and Miss Poni had shrunk a bit over the years—but she was tough, and toughness was something Miss Poni respected.
“Needed to be done. That secret had run its course. I wish that Gretchel could have spoken the truth for herself, but it was past time for somebody to do it. It was for the best, Diana, you’ll see.” And with those words, Miss Poni took Diana’s hand in her own and gave it a tender squeeze.
Realization poured over Diana like a million little sparkly bubbles. A granddaughter! I have a granddaughter! Miss Poni smiled again, released Diana’s hand, and let Cindy take her to bed.
Somehow, the knowledge that Eli’s daughter was her grandchild had eluded her all afternoon. She choked back an elated sob as she sent Peter a text with an utterly unprecedented number of exclamation points.
Well, she decided. I just have to learn to accept Gretchel. I don’t have any choice if I want to have a relationship with my only grandchild.
Diana asked Marcus if he knew where Gretchel had gone. His silent gesture encompassed all two-thousand acres of Snyder Farm, and possibly the surrounding countryside. Diana went outside.
As she searched for Gretchel, her newfound commitment to mending fences with Ame’s mother dissipated quickly. Because of the prophecy, Diana had known that Eli’s heart would be broken once. She had prepared herself for that, and she had tried to prepare him. But two betrayals? By the same awful woman? Even if she had been wrong about Gretchel’s connection to the prophecy, her presentiment that the woman was trouble had been correct.
Diana found Gretchel sitting in a swing dangling from an oak tree. Diana cleared her throat. Gretchel looked up.
“Ame is gone. Eli is gone. Hell, my son is gone, too, and I have no idea if he’s ever coming back. What do you want from me, Diana?”
Gretchel’s long legs dangled from the swing. Her bare toes dragged through the dirt.
Diana was infuriated with this perennial child. Baby Girl! Diana couldn’t think of a more horrifying epithet, and she was disgusted by the grown woman who had allowed herself to be called by that ridiculous nickname.
“It was my intention to commiserate with you, woman to woman, while we wait for Eli and Ame to return. But I’m not sure that’s possible. You may look like a woman, but I don’t think that you’ve really grown up.”
Gretchel jumped from the swing as it surged forward. She landed just in front of Diana, who didn’t flinch.
Gretchel’s red hair was unbound. Her clothes were disheveled.
Always mindful of archetypes, Diana thought of Boudicca, a warrior queen who had fought against the Roman Empire. At the same time, Diana couldn’t help but think, This girl is a goddamned mess.
Diana sat on the second swing. She didn’t move.
“I saw you leave with… Troy, was that his name?”
“You know it was.”
“Yes, I suppose I do. I saw you leave with Troy. You were heavily pregnant. That was the end of it, as far as I was concerned.”
Gretchel pounced. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew that I was pregnant with Eli’s child.”
Diana looked away. Deep inside herself, she was ashamed. At the surface, she was reluctant to be castigated by the woman who had destroyed her son—a woman who kept destroying her son.
“You hate me. I know, and I don’t care,” Gretchel shouted. “But you could have prevented all this! My daughter is gone! Your son is gone! What is the fucking prophecy, Diana?”
“I can’t tell you, Gretchen. Eli has asked me not to. I’m grateful to be united with my granddaughter, but your reunion with my son is only temporary—and he knows it.”
Ella came running toward them, crying incomprehensibly. It took awhile before Gretchel and Diana realized that she had a phone in her hand.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Irvine, 2010s
Peter slid open the glass door and offered his son a seat on the narrow balcony. The chair rattled against the cement as Eli sat down. He was still shaking with anger.
Eli had followed Ame as far as he could, but she knew the country roads around Snyder Farms and he didn’t. It wasn’t long before she lost him. That was when he used the GPS to set a course for his parents’ hotel, where he could find his father.
Peter didn’t say anything for quite awhile. He wanted to give Eli a chance to speak for himself. When it became clear, however, that Eli was going to need some help, Peter spoke up.
“Got a call from your mother a little while ago. Seems I have a granddaughter.”
Eli’s voice was strangled with emotion. “Dad, I need for you to kick my ass—and kick it hard—because I’m about to walk away from the only thing that matters to me.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Peter said with a grin. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, relishing the spiritual ass-kicking to come.
Eli’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He chose to ignore it. “
Do you have any weed?”
“Of course I do, boy. But I’m not about to let you numb yourself. You’re going to have to feel your way through this like a man.”
Eli crumpled in his wrought iron chair.
Peter felt an unfamiliar twinge of conscious as he realized that he had misjudged his role here. Eli didn’t need the holy fool. He didn’t need a trickster. He needed his dad.
“Listen, son. You grew up with a paranoid father and a rich, overprotective mother. We didn’t exactly do a great job of teaching you to deal with hurt.”
Eli held his head in his hands. His voice was muffled. “She did it again. I didn’t think that she could destroy me again, but she did. Is this what you wanted when you told me to go after her?”
Peter thought about his words before he spoke. “You were asleep before. Now you’re awake.”
Eli looked his father in the eye and said, “Fuck you, Peter.”
Peter smiled. “Atta boy.”
They both sat in silence for a few moments, watching maple seeds twirl until they drowned in the rather forlorn hotel pool.
Peter tried again. “Got a call from your mother a little while ago. Seems I have a granddaughter.”
Eli’s phone vibrated. He ignored it.
“I don’t know if I can ever look at her again.”
“Your daughter?”
“No! Gretchel! How can I trust her?”
Peter chose not to answer that question. Instead he asked, “Do you want to live in the now, or do you want to live in the past?”
Eli thought about everything he had heard that day. He thought about the prophecy his mother had burdened him with, and he thought about the curse that destroyed the women in Gretchel’s family. He thought about Miss Poni’s words: Your mama broke the cycle, Ame. She created a child out of pure love.
“I want to meet Ame, Eli. I’ve wanted to meet her since I saw your beautiful smile in that photo you showed me of Gretchel and her children.”
“What?”
“Elliot, I knew that she was your child as soon as I saw her. I just thought that it was best for you to find out in your own time.”
Eli’s phone buzzed again. Exasperated, he pulled it out of his pocket. “It’s mom,” he said as he answered it. His face turned white as he listened.
“It’s Ame. She’s been in an accident.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Irvine, 2010s
When Eli and Peter got to the hospital, they discovered that Ame was pretty banged-up, but stable. Fractured ribs, dislocated shoulder, mild concussion, miscellaneous scrapes and bruises.
“She’s going to be just fine,” Diana reported. “But she’ll be staying overnight, at least. We should know when she can go home by tomorrow.”
“I need to see her,” Eli insisted. “And I need to see Gretchel.”
“Yes... but....”
“I don’t want to hear it, Mom. For just one night, can we pretend to be normal people—people whose lives aren’t ruled by curses and prophecies? Can you try to think of somebody other than yourself for more than a millisecond?”
“Yes... but....”
“Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear how she’s not the one. If you say it, I swear I’ll never talk to you again. I swear I won’t.”
Diana was struggling to formulate a response when Teddy walked into the lobby. Eli rushed up and grabbed his arm. “Is Gretchel all right?”
Teddy sighed. “No, she’s not, Eli. Gretchel is definitely not all right. But she doesn’t want to see you. She blames you for Ame’s accident.”
Eli looked devastated. Teddy put a hand on his shoulder and spoke softly. “I know it’s ridiculous, Eli, but Gretchel isn’t herself right now.” Teddy paused to reconsider. “Actually, she’s acting very much like herself right now, but not her best self. Please, the most productive thing you can do right now is leave. You won’t be helping Ame if her mother throws a fit and gets taken away in a straightjacket.”
Eli nodded, resigned. He was about to go when he turned back to Teddy and asked, “Is she hearing voices?”
Teddy didn’t say anything, but Eli could tell from the look on his face that the answer was yes. Teddy didn’t try to stop Eli as he headed for the elevator.
“I’m here to see Ame Shea. Can you please tell me her room number?”
“Are you a relative?”
“I’m her father.”
Eli pushed open the door to Ame’s room. His heart almost stopped when he saw all the bandages and bruises. The hospital bed made her look small.
Ella looked at Eli, kissed her sleeping granddaughter’s forehead, and slid out of the room.
“Get out!” Gretchel hissed.
Eli could tell that she was ready for a fight, but she didn’t want to wake Ame. “She’s my daughter, too, Gretchel.”
“You did this to her! You and your insane mother! You’re no better than Troy.”
Eli was stung speechless.
“You knew that our relationship wasn’t going to last. You knew that I wasn’t the one. Why did you even come back to Irvine? It wasn’t for me! It wasn’t for Ame!” Gretchel was white with rage, but her voice was strangely calm. “I believe your mother has the information she was looking for, so you can get the fuck out of my house and out of my life. And don’t even think about trying to contact Ame again.”
Eli knew that there was no way he was going to be able to explain himself while the Woman in Wool was filling Gretchel’s head with poison. He also knew that Teddy was right: Provoking Gretchel right now was no way to help her or Ame.
Diana looked worried—almost contrite—when Eli returned to the lobby.
“Just wait until morning,” she said. “I’m sure Gretchel will be better by then. The stories, the secrets, the accident…. It’s all been too much for her. You’ll come back to the hotel with us, and we’ll try again tomorrow.”
Eli could barely stand to look at his mother, but he did. “I don’t know what you told her about the prophecy, but it was enough. And I can’t see how I can ever, ever forgive you.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Irvine, 2010s
Eli stopped at the first bar he found.
It was a small place without much in the way of excitement. Perfect.
The jukebox was playing classic rock, bluesy and slow. Perfect.
There were a few middle-aged men at the end of the bar. Regulars, presumably. They looked up when Eli came in, and then they turned back to their drinks. Perfect.
Eli ordered himself a beer and a double shot of tequila. While he waited for his drinks, he turned toward his fellow loner a couple barstools down. He was nursing a beer and watching the baseball game on the TV hanging over the bar.
Eli felt for him, so he bought him a fresh beer and a shot, and he ordered another shot for himself.
“Thanks, man,” the stranger said, raising his glass.
Eli returned the salute, and then they both drank.
The stranger ordered two more.
Eli raised his shot and made a toast. “To the woman who just broke my heart… again.”
When he slammed his glass back down on the bar, his father was smiling at him from the next stool.
“May I join the pity party?”
“Sure, as long as you promise to keep your wisdom to yourself.” Eli motioned for the bartender to bring three more shots. “Did you follow me here? Is Mom out in the car? Please tell me that she is, because I’d really like to strangle her right now.”
“Settle down, Sunshine. Yes, we followed you here, but your mother dropped me off and went back to the hotel. I’m your designated driver for the night, so I think I’ll pass on the shot. I will let you buy me a Guinness, though.”
Peter turned his attention toward the game on the TV and waited for his beer. Eli downed his own shot, and then chased it with Peter’s.
Eli looked back to the man on his left. He looked away, but Eli could tell that he had been watching the interaction bet
ween father and son. “What’s got you down, man?” Eli asked, “You look like I feel.”
“Been a rough winter. Spring doesn’t seem to be shaping up any better. Girl I know got in a car wreck tonight. She’s in the hospital,” he said.
Eli’s heart began to beat wildly. “You don’t say.”
“I just wish I could be there for her mother. She’s had a pretty tough go of it for a long time, and I’m not sure she’ll be able to handle this,” the guy looked Eli in the eye. “She’s got a history of mental illness.”
“So why aren’t you there... for her mother?” Eli asked. He was suddenly hyperaware of the tequila buzz.
“Long story.”
“Look at me, brother. I’m on my fourth shot of tequila. Does it look like I’ve got anything to go home to? I’ve been listening to stories all day, and now I’m going to listen to yours.”
The stranger peered at Eli through narrowed eyes. Then threw back his next shot of tequila. “Give us another,” he told the bartender. “You from around here?” the guy asked.
“Nope,” Eli muttered bitterly. “Just passing through… apparently.”
“Then you probably haven’t seen the woman I’m talking about. She hasn’t been out in public for a while.” He looked down at the bar as he spoke, as if he was trying to conjure her image. “She’s beautiful—just absolutely beautiful. Red hair, flawless face, six foot tall, body like a brick shithouse, and, oh my god, a temperament like you’ve never seen in any other woman on the face of this earth. She’s too damn good for this town. She’s too damn good for any town. She’s like a goddess that somehow got trapped on earth. You ever met a girl like that? The kind that drives you crazy, but you crave her like a drug?”
The Witches of Snyder Farms (The Wicked Garden Series) Page 12
