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Adelaide inches back in the doorway. “My goodness. Let’s get a good look at you.”
I climb the last two steps to the landing. Even when we’re on equal ground, there’s a noticeable height difference. At five-foot-seven, I’ve never considered myself short, but I feel tiny next to her.
“The last time I saw you, you barely came to my waist. Now you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.”
“Um… thanks.” I step inside the shop when she ushers me in. Adelaide may remember me, but I only have a few select memories of life in New Orleans and she isn’t in any of them.
I don’t mention that to her, though.
“I was sorry to hear about Claudette’s passing,” she says, setting the lock in place again. “Your grandmother was such a big part of the Tremé witch community. People still talk of her—even after all this time.”
“Were you able to collect her and make the preparations for the ritual?”
Adelaide nods. “Her last adventure has come to its close. Her coffin arrived from Dallas and we’re all set.”
Thank goodness. I don’t know how much more stress I can take before I lose control of my emotions and my magic.
I can’t help it.
Grand-Mère had so many friends and even acquaintances back home who stopped by after hearing of her death that between the doorbell and the phone, the ringing followed me into my dreams.
Will it be the same here? She touched many peoples’ lives during her time here on Earth, but none more profoundly than me. It sounds selfish, but I want to be left alone to wallow in my grief instead of steeping teapot after teapot for an endless line of people who never truly knew Claudette Dumont.
It might sound pathetic to some, but my grandmother was my best friend. No one misses her the way I do.
If Adelaide notices my tone, she doesn’t say anything as she leads me through the shop, past tables of tarot cards, candles, and a rainbow of crystals. She pushes a curtain aside along the back wall and disappears behind it.
I follow her through the draping fabric and am brought up short by the bottom of a staircase. I steady myself with a quick hand to grab the railing.
“Oh, yes. Watch your step,” Adelaide warns from a few stairs up, a bit too late to be helpful.
“Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping much and I guess I’m a bit off.” I don’t want Adelaide to think I’m totally inept. I’m nowhere near the level of a High Priestess with my casting, but I consider myself a pretty decent witch most days.
“You should’ve mentioned that, dear,” Adelaide says over the creaky staircase as we climb to the second floor. “I live just down the road and could’ve given you a potion.”
Just down the road?
I don’t remember telling her where I’m staying while in town. Then again, maybe I did. It’s been more than a single night of restless sleep. That and all the stress of being executor of my grandmother’s will must be getting to me.
“Down the road from my hotel?”
Adelaide’s brows pinch. “No. I meant… Are you not staying at the Dumont residence?”
“The what now?”
Adelaide turns to me, her eyes wide. “You don’t know of the Dumont family home? In Tremé? You lived there with your parents and Claudette for the first four years of your life.”
Sure, I remember the place—vaguely—I just assumed everything in America was sold before we left the country.
Apparently not.
But why would she keep a home she had no intention of ever returning to?
I shrug. “My grandmother didn’t like to talk about anything relating to New Orleans. Would you mind showing me the place this afternoon?”
“I’m sorry, dear. I’m afraid my schedule is booked for the day. That’s part of being High Priestess of the Sun Witches—there’s always something or someone that needs my attention.”
“No, it’s no problem.” I feel bad for asking. “Maybe you could write the address down for me. I’m sure I can manage.”
