Of Destiny and Sisters

An Attic of Opportunity

Kat

My emotions were overwhelming. All the rage and stress and fear bubbled up into a great sob, and, once started, I couldn't seem to stop.

Pat motioned for me to come closer. "Come here." She pulled me to her. Her body was stiff and her hug awkward, but she'd been getting better about being a more comforting sister when it really mattered. It had meant so much that she was trying; emotion wasn't her thing unless she felt it deeply. I stepped into her embrace and cried into her shoulder while she rubbed my back.

"I'm sorry I ruined shopping," she murmured. "I can't seem to keep my mouth shut when it comes to that woman. I swear, she says something to me, and my brain disconnects."

I pulled back and nodded, blowing my nose. "I know it's hard, Pat. She obviously knows all the buttons to push to get to you. That comment about your art being a "cute little hobby?" That was a low blow."

She groaned. "I've never wanted to slap an old lady, but damned if I didn't that day." She steered us to my bed, and we sat on the edge, shoulder to shoulder. "I can understand why Dad cut all ties with his family if Beatrice is an example of how they are."

My stomach flip-flopped at the mention of family, and I grabbed her hand. "I'm glad we have each other. I can't imagine being separated," I whispered as I squeezed her hand three times. On impulse, I asked, "I should hex her?"

Pat stopped her return squeezes and sucked in a breath. "Kat, no! You can't. You've always said that shit comes back threefold. Don't you remember when you tried to hex 'Nita when she stole your boyfriend two years ago? She ended up taking your spot on the cheer squad when you sprained your ankle!"

I sighed, my shoulders drooping. "Yeah, you're right. I'll think of something else." I glanced around the room. "I wish she'd let me put up an altar in here." I thought about doing the influencing spell to help the situation, but I had had a severe nosebleed, then a migraine for two days, the last time I did. It hadn't been pretty, but it had worked; Mom had changed her mind about letting me, as a freshman, go to the Prom with Hunter, who was a senior. As a bonus, Pat had been a little more open to believing in magic after that. Or at least in my magic.

I rubbed my temples. "Everything feels so... soul-crushing," I complained. We'd been through so much in the last few months. Michelle had been wonderful to let us stay with her while we dealt with the funeral and the estate lawyer. But, once social services had located Beatrice, the system sealed our fates and shipped us off to live with her. I tried not to be bitter toward Michelle for not applying for guardianship. She had her own mourning to do. I got that, really I did.

But damn, moving across the country had been hard. New school, new friends... new life, new problems. I thanked the Lord and Lady for the estate lawyer every day. He'd approved the purchase of a car for us to share and had set up a personal allowance paid directly to us. He'd even somehow taken care of our phones. Most of all, he had assured us there would be money for college. Maybe not Ivy League, but we'd have options.

Honestly, I was planning to let Pat have as much college money as she needed; somewhere like the Savannah College of Art and Design wasn't exactly cheap, and I wanted her to have the best for her art. Me? A massage therapist license from a Community College and a business degree online would be perfect. I had plans for opening a metaphysical shop that catered to Wiccan and other Pagan clientele, focusing on stuff for the mind, body, and spirit. I'd call it something amusing like "The Broomstick Spa" or "Tarot Gotta Crystal."

My spirit felt heavy. I lolled to the side and laid my head on Pat's shoulder again. She leaned and tipped her head onto mine, and we sat in comforting silence. The weight of the world seemed so much heavier since Mom and Dad died. Once, getting a date for the next school dance was life's biggest problem. Now, I'd give anything to only be concerned about something so trivial.