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I couldn’t say this was better.
Time passed painfully.
My foot bobbed endlessly off the floor as I bit my thumbnail, my eyes glued to the clock on the wall.
Everything since Friday night felt like it passed so quickly — it was hard to believe it had only been a week since I was married unintentionally to a demon — and yet this made it feel like time stood still.
“Is there nothing you beings like to do to pass the time?” Asmodeus asked after almost an hour of us just sitting there. “This is dull.”
My eyes narrowed and I cut him with a look I was sure came close to the one Gran gave me. “Oh, well I’m sorry if me waiting to find out if my Abuela is dying is boring for you.”
He nodded slowly. “Very boring.”
“That was sarcasm, asshole.”
Asmodeus pursed his lips. “You’re quite irritating, you know.”
“You’re more than welcome to leave me alone.” I couldn’t believe him. Sure, he was a demon so he likely didn’t understand how big a deal this was, but he could at least read the room.
He leaned back in his chair, adjusting. “No. That’s quite alright. I just don’t see what all this fuss is about. I completely healed your grandmother. There is no reason for her to go and get this scan nor is there any reason for you to be distressed.”
“How can you even say that?” He was the one being irritating. That he could sit there and think there was no reason to worry made me wonder just how wrong we’d been about demons. He seemed pretty heartless and uncaring to me. “How would you feel if this was someone you cared about?”
His head tilted in thought. “There are few I care about, but I imagine I would feel fine knowing whatever rot was spreading through them is now gone.”
My fist slammed hard on the table. “Stop saying rot.” This guy was working my last nerve.
Asmodeus merely sighed. “You’re not very grateful.”
“Just leave me alone!” I barked. I couldn’t handle him right now.
No sooner had the words left my mouth, Asmodeus disappeared.
“What the fuck?” I was on my feet, my hands waving over the empty chair. “Where the hell did he go?”
The sound of a car in the driveway caught my attention. I paused for a second, sparing his seat one last glance before I hurried down the hall and ripped the door open.
Gran was holding the passenger door open for Abuela. They looked shocked. Gran held Abuela’s arm as they silently walked up the steps.
“Is everything alright?”
Abuela blinked heavily as she looked up at me. Like my voice had pulled her from the depths of her thoughts and reminded her I was here waiting. “Let’s go inside, Edie, and have some tea.”
My stomach bottomed out as I held the door open for them and watched them walk past me. I followed them slowly down the hall, my fingers plucking at the hem of my shirt as my mouth opened and closed more times than I could count.
Neither one of them was ready to talk, but my patience was balancing on the edge of a knife, ready to be sliced in half at any moment.
They both sat at the table while I busied myself setting the kettle to boil and getting the tea leaves ready. I found a steeper and set it next to the handmade kettle painted in vibrant blues, yellows, and reds that Abuela had gifted Gran ages ago when she went home to Colombia for her sister’s funeral.
I opened the cupboard and looked at the mason jars clearly labelled, deciding on the honey ginger blend. My mind was in constant motion as I set leaves in the steeper as the kettle screamed. My body moved on its own, making tea for Gran and Abuela something it knew well.
The silence was heavy. It was thick smoke I could barely breathe through. My hands shook as I carried the mugs over and set them on the table, one in front of each of them.
Abuela wrapped her hands around her mug, letting the warmth coat her fingers the way she loved. It brought back memories of being a girl and being urged to hold the mug tight. Abuela always told me if I held it just right it would soothe my hands all the way down to my bones.
Abuela held on tight before she took her first slow sip. “It’s gone,” she said finally.
“What?”
