The Line

Page 16

I stared at her like a deer caught in headlights.
“I know how you feel about Jackson…”
“I am so sorry,” I interrupted her.
The smile returned to her lips, and she rushed forward and hugged me. “I know you are. Truly, I know you are. And I want you to know that I understand. Believe me, if anyone understands why you love Jackson, it’s me.” She released me from her embrace, but kept my forearms in her hands. “I know if you could change the way you feel, you would,” she said. Then she asked me, “Is that why you went to Jilo?”
There was no use denying it, my thoughts evidently belonged to her almost as much as they did to me. “Yes,” I said. “I wanted a spell that would make me feel for Peter…”
“The way you feel for Jackson,” Maisie finished for me. “Did she work it?”
“I changed my mind. I told her not to,” I said. “But she told me she was going to do it anyway.”
“That is not good,” Maisie responded. “Love spells almost always backfire. The feelings they create aren’t real, they’re counterfeit, and they can easily warp into passions that have nothing to do with real love. I’d never attempt something so foolish. Have you noticed any changes in the way you feel about Peter?”
“No,” I responded, but then the thought I’d been suppressing since the moment I found Ginny’s corpse mushroomed up before me. “She said the spell would take blood. Lots of it.” My body began to tremble.
“Don’t even go there,” Maisie said. “The old bat was just pulling your leg. You don’t use blood to work a love spell. Even if Jilo was involved with Ginny’s murder, it had nothing to do with you or this spell. You hear me?” I nodded, feeling an enormous weight lift off my chest.
“I suspect that Jilo was totally bluffing about working the spell, but if you do notice anything out of the ordinary, you come to me.” She paused for a second before continuing. “The sad thing is that if you ever do open your fool eyes, part of you will always wonder if your change of heart had something to do with Jilo. But let’s not think too far ahead. For now, you stay clear of Jilo. She is dangerous. Don’t ever go to her again. For anything.” She released me and paced the room. After an eternity she finally stopped, and turned to look at me. “I’ve always envied you, you know?”
“You envied me?” The thought was too preposterous. I had spent my entire life in her shadow—less pretty, powerless, and probably less intelligent too.
“Yes. I’ve envied your freedom. While you were out wandering around Savannah and making friends, Ginny kept me close,” she said. “She always thought I’d take over from her one day, and she spent my whole life training me for it. I was always okay with that, but I did think it would come much later in life, after I’d done a little living. I’d even hoped the two of us could travel the world together once we gained access to our share in the family trust.”
“We still can,” I said.
“Not if I become the anchor. Anchors hold the line in place, and I’ll need to spend the rest of my life within a stone’s throw of this city. But I am okay with that, since I will have Jackson here with me.” She began to pace again. “It’s only that your life has so many possibilities for happiness. For me there is only Jackson.” She stopped and turned to look at me again. “I can’t tell you whether Peter is the right man for you. All I know is that he adores you; he always has. But I can tell you that Jackson loves me. He does.”
“I know he does,” I assured her, but she ignored me.
“I sense, though, that it’s in your power to confuse him about that. He’s as drawn to you as you are to him.”
“How could he ever want me when he has you?” I asked sincerely.
Maisie was momentarily at a loss for words. Finally she shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Mercy, your perception of yourself is way off. If you saw yourself the way Peter sees you, the way Jackson sees you, you wouldn’t be asking that question. But please, don’t make me stroke your ego at the same time I am begging you to leave Jackson to me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling both selfish and narcissistic. This time I approached her and put my arms around her.
She let me draw her close for a few moments, but then gently pushed me away. “We understand each other, then?”
“Yes, we do,” I responded. “And please promise me that you know that I love you more than any other person on earth, and that I would never knowingly do anything to hurt you.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I’ve got one more surprise, and I hope you’ll be happy for me. It’s been killing me not to say anything to you.” Beaming, she pulled a chain out of her shirt collar and revealed a solitaire engagement ring. “Jackson and I are getting married! We’ve been waiting for the right time to start telling everyone, and I wanted to start by telling you. We were going to make an announcement the next time the family got together, but considering the circumstances of the current reunion…” her voice trailed off. I felt my attention, my entire being contract as I stared into the ring’s gleaming stone. “Well, say something, Mercy! Are you happy for me?” Maisie’s voice took on a keening quality. She stood there frozen, waiting for me to respond.
I shook myself back into my body. “Of course! Of course, I am happy for you!” I pulled her back into my arms. And by God, I was happy for her. I had to be. I simply had to be.
There was a loud rap on the door. I turned and opened it to find Connor standing on the opposite side, pendulum in hand. “Found you,” he said, looking past me at Maisie. “Your aunts and I need to talk to you about the lot drawing.”
“We’ll need Mercy too,” Maisie said. “She’s going to be part of the draw.” I noticed she had surreptitiously tucked the engagement ring back inside her shirt.
“All Mercy needs to know,” Connor said, speaking as if I weren’t even there, “is that she’ll stick her hand into a bag and pull out a white chip of wood. You, on the other hand, stand a very good chance of being selected as Ginny’s replacement. And that would mean a lot of changes in your life.” Connor eyed her. “A lot of changes.”
A shadow crossed Maisie’s face. “Even if I am selected, I won’t make the choices that Ginny did. I’m going to have a life of my own.”
“Well, my girl, let’s see how things shake out before you get your dander all up. And don’t go judging Ginny too fast. You might find yourself wearing her shoes and then you can start making speeches about how you aren’t going to be like her. Come on, now. Your aunts are waiting for us.”
Maisie gave me one last smile. “Happy birthday, sis,” she said and headed from the room.
“I love you,” I called after her. Connor gave me a cool, dismissive look—his nickname for me flitted through my head, “The Disappointment”—then padded out of the room after Maisie. I returned my attention to the jar of memories Maisie had given me. It was cool to the touch, but bright as a nightlight. I took it to my room for safekeeping and hid it inside a box of toys and things from my childhood that I was saving for the day I would have my own children, perhaps the very same redheaded ruffians Maisie had envisioned for me.