Stardust

the magic is dead

Nothing happened in the way I wanted

Every corner of this house is haunted - Gracie Abrams

Conrad

Surfing in Cousins used to be one of my favorite things in the world, but as I take my board for an afternoon swim, I realize that's also tarnished. This place is no longer magical and summer is no longer my favorite part of the year. The dread, the anxiety and the guilt are destroying everything.

I stay in the ocean until I'm sure Stella has left for her deb ball bullshit. That whole thing still irritates me. I hate that she's doing this. The idea of watching her be escorted by another guy makes me wanna throw up.

The sun is barely starting to lower on the horizon when I walk into the house. I try my best to not make any sounds, I even take off my slippers to make my steps more subtle, but I was never stealthy enough to hide from Susannah Fisher.

She's been talking about painting our portraits for days now, but I thought the event for Laurel's new book would keep her busy for the time being.

- Connie! - She shouts and my feet freeze on the first step.

- Yeah?

- Can you change and meet me outside? - I look over and notice she's reading Laurel's new book. Mom never read any of her books. - I wanna paint your portrait first.

- Why me? - I try to not sound as shitty as I feel, but it doesn't really work.

- You're here. Everyone else is busy.

Fuck Jeremiah and Steven for getting those stupid jobs. And fuck the deb ball for keeping the girls away. Reluctantly, I step away from the staircase and walk to the living room. Mom's sitting on the couch in jeans overall and a flowery t-shirt, a frown of concentration on her face as her eyes flow through the page. She doesn't look sick. I can't help but wonder how long is that gonna last.

- I'm busy too. - I lie, and she clearly doesn't believe me.

- Can't you spare a few hours for your mother? - And there they are, the puppy dog eyes. Arguing is pointless.

We meet at the dock 10 minutes later and she quickly gets to work. Mom is serene when she's painting, which is ironic considering the mess she creates. Her hands are covered in colorful stains. I wish I could keep her that way, happy and in peace. I never loved posing for portraits, but knowing this one is the last she'll ever make of me makes it even worse.

- So... - She starts. - How's Nicole?

A pang of guilt hits my stomach. Technically I never lied to Nicole about what I want, but I know I'm in the wrong here.

- Mom, can we not do this? - This time around, I manage to not sound so much like an asshole. - I'm already here doing what you asked. This doesn't need to be some defining moment.

I've seen her do this before, the last time she was sick. She's trying to create memories we can hold onto. I'm not ready to say goodbye and I don't think I ever will be.

- Forgive me for trying to bond with my son before he leaves for an entire year. - She smiles like this is amusing somehow. I'll be in my first year of college when she dies. Mom is the one leaving me, not the other way around. There's a beat of silence before she speaks again. - Belly looked gorgeous in her new dress.

She looks up to see my reaction and I just barely manage to hold back an eye roll. Wrong sister, mom.

- Speaking of the deb... - I hesitate. Should I say something? Stella hasn't agreed yet, but I think a little pressure could be just what she needs to go back on stage. - Do you know anyone who's organizing those other events? Like brunches and parties and stuff?

- I always know someone, I'm a woman of connections. - She jokes, and this time I smile too. - Why do you ask?

- Well, I was just thinking, what if you put in a word for Stella to perform? - Don't be suspicious. Act natural. - It's the least you can do after emotionally blackmailing her into being a sheep.

That makes her laugh. Loudly. It's hard for me to get this kind of reaction out of her, so it feels special. I might be resisting her attempts to create final memories, but the most important moments happen even when we don't want them to.

- That's a really good idea. - She says, but her smile drops a bit. - Laurel said Billy and Camilla are worried about her.

- Because she's not singing? - I ask and she nods. - Do you have any idea why?

Fuck. Too much. My mom has that look in her eyes like she's figuring me out.

- On that Thanksgiving we spent together, Billy slipped up and said something bad happened to Stella. He gave us no details, but whatever it was, it hurt her. - Her eyes dart to the wooden floor. - Remember how she dyed her hair? She was dressing differently, acting differently, it was visible.

- I remember.

What I'm feeling right now can't be described just as fear. It's worse, it runs deeper. What the hell happened to her? Was it my fault?

- Going back on the stage could be good for her. - At this point, I don't care if mom realizes how I feel about Stella. I need to do something. Odds are I created the mess, so I need to fix it.

- I'll see what I can do. - She smiles at me. - Now sit still. We don't have a lot of time before I have to get ready for Laurel's book signing.

Taking a deep breath, I straighten my spine and mom turns her attention to the canvas. This is gonna work out. Stella is gonna sing and then she's gonna be ok again. I can't fix what's wrong with my mom, but I can do this. Stella's gonna be ok.