Eliza sulked. “I'm sick of living in my mother's home. This town is so small,
and everything here is stifling. I need so much more than what this place offers."
She stood up and stormed away. "If you're not willing to help me, I guess I’ll have to find another way. Don't think I won't forget that we are no longer friends,
Sarah Sands.”
“Stop, Eliza." Sarah grabbed her arm. "Of course, we are still friends. I just need to think about it. Can I give you my answer tomorrow?"
Instantly, changing from an angry to an appreciative friend, Eliza gushed, “I
knew you would help. Thank you so much, Sarah. You are such a dear friend."
My mother hugged her tightly before Releasing her and rushing towards the
door. "Thanks again. I must go now, but I'll come back tomorrow to make plans.
I knew I could count on you.”
As I watched my mother walk out the door, my heart broke, again. Watching
her leave the house, I began to question myself. Why did I miss her when she left? She was never really a mother. My happy childhood memories were always
of something I’d done with my grandparents. Was it just the fact she had left me?
My grandmother had always taken care of me. When I was sad, it was Gram
who comforted me. When I was hurt, it was Gram who made me feel better.
What was I clinging to? After all, the idea of the perfect mother certainly wasn’t
Eliza.
Pushing my pity party aside, I turned my focus back onto what was
happening around me. Sarah had returned to the kitchen and pulled out a small
book from one of the drawers. The cover had streaks of red, silver, white, and yellow on it.
When she sat down and began to write in it, I guessed it was her journal.
Sarah didn't write for long before there was another knock on the door.
Sarah opened the door, and, to my surprise, my grandmother stood in the
doorway, holding a basket of produce.
Gram was wearing her denim overalls. Her brown hair was in two long
braids under a big red hat that she wore to protect her skin from the sun. She was even wearing her work boots. She called this outfit her dirt-digging clothes.
Coming to see Sarah must have been an impromptu thought. My grandmother
would never have gone to visit anyone dressed this way.
“Sarah, can I come in?” Gram held up the basket. “I brought you some
vegetables and fruit that I just picked.”
“Come in, Mae,” Sarah welcomed her and graciously accepted the gift.
“What a nice thought. Cole loves your strawberries.”
When they were inside, Gram looked around and asked quietly, “Are we
alone?”
“Cole is upstairs sleeping. I gave him the potion, as we discussed. Great
timing, too. You just missed my surprise visitor.”
“Eliza?” Gram questioned. “What does my daughter need now?”
“She wants me to help her with a spell for Cedric,” Sarah said.
“What kind of spell?” Gram asked with a disgusted look on her face.
