Effie’s head swirled with realization. Of course. So much had been going on right under her nose, but she’d been so wrapped up in her own woes that she’d failed to see how the people she loved were changing. Growing, she realized with a pang.
Bonnie was clearly up to something that was more than a mere ‘collaboration’ with Uncle Oswald, and at some point Tessa and Alana had started actually, properly dating.
But the fact that Tessa hadn’t told her all about it the way she might have in years past made Effie feel even smaller than her five-foot three-inch height. Effiehadbeen selfish. She’d been wrapped up in Theo and her work and her grief. She’d made everything as much about herself as Bonnie was in the habit of doing – but she’d justified it by the fact that she’d felt shut out and ignored.
Struck with the pain of recognition, Effie turned towards Bonnie, determined to make things right. She met her sister’s blue-eyed gaze, which welled with tears. Dabbing her eyes with a thumb, Bonnie shoved Clark behind the bar and hurried over, her heels clacking on the antique floorboards.
‘Effie,’ she began, her voice trembling. Effie had never heard Bonnie sound so scared and anxious.
‘Bonnie, what’s going on?’ she hissed. ‘What’s wrong with Tessa?’
‘It’s not just Tessa...’ Bonnie carefully wiped the makeup from the corners of her eyes, trying to compose herself. She pointed at Sabine, who was waving her fingers deliriously at the ceiling. ‘It’s Sabine. She doesn’t...she doesn’t remember Mom.’
Bonnie’s voice broke as she added, ‘I really need your help.’
Chapter 34
CHARM OFFENSIVE
Bonnie
Effie grabbed Bonnie’s wrist and pulled her towards the stairwell. She didn’t stop until they reached the landing, and the two of them stood there in the dim illumination of the stippled Moroccan lamps, surrounded by Mom’s aura paintings. The ugliness of the Uncle Oswald painting, as always, set the hairs on Bonnie’s neck to attention – but mostly because now she wondered if that’s what her own aura looked like. Ugly and dank. Marred by the way she’d leapt at Uncle Oswald’s business plan to make some quick cash, and at the chance to prove to Effie that her own magic skills were equal.
And look how that had turned out. She’d proven the opposite: that she was hasty and untalented and sloppy. She could’ve tried to perfect the individual recipes in the grimoire, but she’d been determined to launch the new range of cocktails as quickly as possible to take advantage of Uncle Oswald’s promised kickback. She could’ve stopped serving them once she realized they were having effects beyond losing interest in dream interpretation or astral projection. And let’s face it – she’d known for a while now. But admitting it would have meant that she’d messed up. Yet again.
But now she had no choice but to come clean.
‘Effie, it’s all my fault,’ she blurted, getting out the wordsas fast as she could. ‘Uncle Oswald came to me with these hexed drink recipes that were meant to steer people away from their influencer-created New Age woes and encourage them to shop at his place instead. He paid me every time they bought something.’
‘I see,’ said Effie. Bonnie could just tell she wanted to say something about the electrical box, but to her credit, Effie kept her mouth shut.
‘But I messed up the recipe. Or the recipe was wrong to begin with. I don’t know. Everyone’s losing their minds. I called the newspaper, and apparently Madame Destinée keeps forgetting to write her horoscopes. Dierdre from Second-Hand Magic has turned into a sceptic. Freddie Noonan is excited about fake grass. And Sabine...how could she forget Mom?’
Her voice hitched as she said this, for it had been the final straw. The one thing that had set her conscience screaming.
Turning a nervous gaze on Effie, Bonnie took a deep breath. ‘Can you...turn them back?’
Effie’s eyes were narrowed behind her glasses, but to Bonnie’s relief she didn’t start yelling. Which, honestly, Bonnie deserved.
But how shedidrespond was arguably worse.
In a small, hurt voice, Effie whispered, ‘Why didn’t you just ask me for help?’
Bonnie burst into tears. How was she meant to explain to Effie that she’d been trying so hard to be a proper adult, one that Mom would be proud of, and Effie too? That she was more scared of Effie’s judgement than anything else, because Effie was all that she had left?
Slowly and awkwardly, Effie wrapped Bonnie in a hug. ‘I know I haven’t been here for you the way you needed. I’m sorry, Bonnie. You messed up. Really and truly messed up. But it shouldn’t have taken Tessa begging me to come down here to see that you needed help.’
Something damp fell upon Bonnie’s shoulder, startling her. Was that a tear? Was Effie crying as well?
Bonnie drew back, gently touching her sister’s face. That thoughtful face whose seriousness was partly Bonnie’s fault.
‘I’m sorry, too,’ Bonnie said. ‘I’ve been awful. I was just trying to prove to you that I could do this. That you could just be you and that you didn’t have to try to replace Mom.’
Effie reached up to touch the painting that represented Mom’s own aura. ‘No one could replace Mom.’
Bonnie nodded tearily. Her sister was right, of course.
‘You know I don’t do magic on people,’ said Effie slowly. ‘It’s too risky. There are too many variables, and you never know how things might backfire.’
