Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen

at her watch again. “What’re you talking about? I was only asleep two hours.”
    “You arrived yesterday morning. You’ve been asleep for the past twenty-six hours.”
    Sydney’s heart lodged in her throat, and she stumbled to the kitchen table and sat. She’d left her daughter alone for twenty-six hours? Did Bay say anything to Claire about David? Did Claire care for Bay? Did she tuck her in, or had Bay been huddled, afraid and lonely, in her room all night in a strange house? “Bay…”
    “Has been helping me,” Claire said. “She doesn’t say much, but she’s a fast learner. We cooked all day yesterday, she had a bubble bath last night, then I put her to bed. We started cooking again this morning.”
    Did Claire think she was a bad mother? The one thing Sydney could be proud of, and she was already messing it up. This place messed her up. She was never sure of who she was here.
    “Have some coffee,” Claire said. “Evanelle said she was stopping by today to see you.”
    “Stay, Mommy. Watch what I can do.”
    Get yourself together , she told herself. “Okay, honey. I’m not going anywhere.” She went to the coffeepot and poured a cup. “How is Evanelle?”
    “She’s fine. She’s anxious to see you. Have some lavender bread. Bay and I have been eating on that last loaf there. There’s some herb butter too.”
    Was Claire concerned about her? She’d thought a lot about Claire over the years. Mostly they were thoughts of how adventurous Sydney was being and how poor, pitiful Claire could do nothing but stay at home in stupid Bascom. It was cruel, but it made her feel better because she’d always been jealous of Claire’s comfort with who she was. Claire had been so happy to see her leave. Now she was worried about her. Telling her to eat. Sydney tried to slice the bread slowly, but she was so hungry she ended up tearing most of it off. She spread some herb butter on the bread and closed her eyes. After her third slice, she started walking around the big kitchen. “This is impressive. I didn’t know you could do this. Are these Grandma’s recipes?”
    “Some of them. The dandelion quiche and the lavender bread were hers.”
    “You never let me see them when I was little.”
    Claire turned from the counter and wiped her hands on her apron. “Listen, this is for a job in Hickory tomorrow. I’ve called two teenage girls who sometimes help me in the summer, but if you need some money, you can help me with it instead.”
    Sydney looked at her strangely. “You want me to help you.”
    “Normally, I can do this alone. But for bigger jobs I have to call people. Are you still going to be here tomorrow?”
    “Of course I am,” Sydney said. “What? You don’t believe me?”
    “While you’re here, I could use your help.”
    “I guess it’s pretty obvious I need the money.”
    Claire smiled slightly and Sydney liked that, the small connection it formed.
    Encouraged, she said congenially, “So, tell me about that Tyler guy.”
    Claire lowered her eyes and turned around. “What about him?”
    “Has he come by today?”
    “He doesn’t come by every day. Yesterday was the first time. He was bringing some apples that fell on his side of the fence.”
    “Did you bury them?”
    “We always bury the apples that fall off the tree,” Claire said, and Bay looked at Claire curiously. Sydney felt a sense of dread, wanting to hold off Bay knowing things for as long as possible. Sydney had traded any chance of Bay being considered normal for her safety. How exactly did you tell a child, even a child like Bay, that?
    “So, Tyler,” Sydney said before Bay could start asking questions. “Is he single?”
    “I don’t know.” Claire took the cookie sheet with the pansies on it and put it in a barely warm oven.
    “Are you interested in him?”
    “ No,” Claire answered vehemently, like a middle-school girl.
    “He belongs here,” Bay said.
    Claire turned to her.
    “It’s this thing she does,”