‘Just me, Paige,’ Bonnie muttered, waving as she hurtled through the quiet square, rolling through the stop sign that led to the town’s main thoroughfare. To her right, something flashed silver, and she was vaguely aware of movement in front of her car. The car jolted as she slammed on the brakes. Hands pressed against the hood of the car as a scooter rider braced against the car, pushing himself backwards and out of the way.
Bonnie put the car in park and jumped out. Under the car was one of those annoying rental scooters that jammed upthe square and the college, and which no one ever put back in the racks. Well, except for Effie, who did so quietly with magic under the cover of night. And Bobby, but Bobby hadn’t been by much these days. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been walking hand in hand with Kirsty with what looked like a telescope slung over his shoulder. Bonnie had crossed the street to avoid them.
Oh shit. It was Bobby’s little brother, Kevvie.
‘Are you okay, Kevvie?’ Bonnie went to grab his shoulder, but decided against it, checking him over for injuries from afar. She couldn’t see any scrapes or bruises, although he was breathing hard.
Kevvie nodded – he seemed fine, just shaken.
‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there. Forgive me?’ She offered him the fist bump that she knew was the standard of communication between Kevvie and his friends.
Kevvie bumped her fist and stooped down to pull the scooter out from under the car. ‘All good, Bonnie. Although the scooter’s having a bad time.’
Bonnie grimaced. She wasn’t sure what the proper course of action was to repair one of the communal scooters. She supposed she’d have to call the phone number emblazoned on the side, but later. She had to get to the cemetery.
‘It’ll survive,’ she promised. Then she hesitated. ‘Hey, how’s Bobby doing lately?’
Kevvie made a face. ‘He’s been so weird. And Kirsty is always over. She keeps asking me to be in her videos, too. I always thought you were way better. Why did you stop hanging out?’
Bonnie wished Kevvie was still small enough that she could brush that cowlick of hair away from his cute little face. But those days were long gone.
‘It’s complicated,’ said Bonnie. ‘I still care about your brother, though, I promise. But I really have to go. You sure you’re okay? Do you need me to take you to the doctor?’
Kevvie snorted. ‘I’ve done way worse on my skateboard. You should know, with Effie on her skates and all.’
How come everyone in town other than Bonnie had seen the mysterious skating Effie? When had the sisters become so separate?
‘I’m just glad you’re okay,’ she said, pushing all thoughts of Effie out of her head. ‘And that I finally clobbered one of those annoying scooters.’
‘They’re the worst,’ agreed Kevvie. ‘But I snapped my skateboard the other day, so.’ He shrugged.
Bonnie dumped the scooter on the sidewalk and went to hop back in the car. But a swirl of red and blue lit up the street. Officer Brigsley, the town’s police officer. They’d become quite well acquainted through Bonnie’s shenanigans over the years.
‘Hi, Terry,’ she said, flashing her biggest smile and crinkling her eyes. ‘All good, just a mistiming. I was on my way to the cemetery for my mom. Grief plays funny tricks on your peripheral vision.’
‘You rolled through the stop sign,’ Terry pointed out. His mouth turned down at the corners, signalling a very specific dad kind of disappointment.
‘Barely,’ she said. ‘I was going, like, fifteen. Kevvie was cruising faster than I was.’
Terry shook his head. ‘Maybe, but I can’t let this one slide, Bon. I’m sorry. It’s a blind intersection. Anything could’ve happened.’
‘But Kevvie’s fine,’ she protested. ‘No one got hurt.’
‘Because you got lucky,’ said Officer Brigsley. ‘Next time, you might not be so charmed.’
Charmed, thought Bonnie darkly as he wrote out a ticket. Apparently the Chalmers family luck only applied to one sister at a time, and this time for once it wasn’t her. No, Bonnie was breaking her back trying to keep the rowdy bar patrons in line, whip up commercial quantities of Oswald’smagical cocktails, and pay for the new electrical box, while Effie sat around at the library reading books, eating cupcakes and complaining about Bonnie using up all of the hot water. Bonnie deserved those showers! She needed them to get the tension out of her shoulders, because unlike Effie, she couldn’t cast a spell to get the knots out.
Needless to say, by the time Bonnie arrived at the cemetery, she was in a sour mood.
‘Nice of you to stop by,’ said Effie drily.
It was all Bonnie could do not to shove her into the duck pond.
Instead, she turned towards the vast weeping willow that marked Mom’s resting place, its leafy boughs lush and laden with memories and dreams. The tree calmed Bonnie. It made her feel like Mom was still there, watching over them, her spirit twining through the branches and streaming foliage, reaching down to hug them in the only way she still could.
This had been a special spot for the trio long before Mom’s death. The three of them would come here for picnics under the tranquil shade of the giant tree, basking in the dappled light it cast. They’d share all the stories they could remember of the people buried around them, doing their bit to keep their memories alive. So it had seemed fitting to make this Mom’s own place, to have endless reasons to return and continue the tradition.
Fitting, but not easy. They’d managed a few quiet picnics together in the year since Mom’s death, occasionally with Tessa or Sabine joining them. But the gaps between each gathering were growing. Effie was better about coming than Bonnie, although not because Bonnie didn’t care. Quite the opposite. Bonnie hurt so much at the loss of Mom that being this close to her was unbearable. Worse than that was how these visits brought out something dark in her. A resentment at Mom for leaving them, at all the moments and milestonesthey’d never share, at howaloneshe was when she was barely an adult. Effie at least had been guided into adulthood by Mom, had had someone beside her to help her become who she was. But Bonnie? She’d barely made it into her twenties before Mom’s diagnosis and the vanishingly small distance between that and what came after.
