Page 45 of The Magic We Made

“Frankie,” Angie says, her grip on my shoulders tightening. “Richard just posted a new entry onto his sailing vlog. Last week, a massive storm hit the Azores. It ran Richard’s boat aground, causing irreparable damage to its hull. Richard’s had to give up sailing around the world. He’s on his way back to West Harbor.”

Frankie

“Frankie?” Angie asks, giving me a little shake. “Did you hear me, Frankie? Richard’s coming home.”

I wrench myself from Angie’s grip. “How is that good news?”

Angie stares at me. “Because—”

“Angie, Richard and I are divorced and we’re going to stay divorced. It doesn’t matter if he’s in West Harbor or the Azores or Timbuktu. We are never getting back together.”

“I am aware of that, Frankie.” Angie has that same look on her face she used to get when she was a kid and heard the wordNo. Her pointy chin is thrust out and her jaw is set. Angie is the most stubborn of my siblings—and also the most frequently wrong. But I love her, just the same. “I’m not suggesting that you do. I’m suggesting that Richard’s return is a perfect opportunity for you to show him how little you care about him, and, more importantly, how well you’re doing without him.”

I relax a little. I hadn’t realized how defensively I’d begunclutching my arms across my chest at the mere mention of Richard’s name.

“Oh,” I say. “Well, that makes a little more sense. I thought you’d turned into Mom all of a sudden.”

“Ha!” Angie snorts as she pulls a sequined Dyson hair dryer and curling brush from her bag, then places both on my dining room table. “No, don’t worry. Mom seems to have gotten over your divorce. In fact, she’s going around saying it was themalocchioshe put on Richard that made his boat crash. She’s super proud of it.”

“That sounds like Mom.”

“Yeah.” Angie has draped the beach towel over one of my dining room chairs, and now she pats the seat. “Anyway, come sit down so I can finally cover up those nasty grays of yours before Richard gets to town.”

“What? No. Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m not kidding.” Angie has gone to my sink and is mixing something—most likely hair dye—in one of my best bowls. “He’s going to be here in a day or two, or however long it takes him to get the boat off the rocks and into a repair shop so he can fly home. I heard Debi is already here—no surprise that she bailed at the first sign of trouble. Apparently she tried to get her old job back at the Yoga Sanctuary, but they told her no way since she left them with zero notice. Sit down so I can fix your hair and then, when you bump into her in town, you’ll look amazing. You haven’t let me give you a trim since Richard left. I want to get all those dead ends off before I—”

“Angie, no.” I love my sister. But she, like all my family, is insane. “I don’t want a haircut. And I don’t want to cover my gray, either. I’m proud of my gray hairs. Iearnedthem—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Angie stirs her dye mixture as vigorouslyas my mom always stirs her risotto. “Whatever. You said the exact same thing when Cat and I invited you to get Botox with us.”

“Botox can have side effects that are fatal if—”

“Jesus, shut up, would you? We’re giving you a makeover. Jessica sent over a dress for you to wear.” She points to the Enchantments bag on the couch. “She says it’s perfect for you, and you know how Jessica is. She has an amazing gift for picking out the clothes that will look best on—”

“Angie, have you lost your mind?” I can’t deal with this today, especially not after all that teenage witch cult business. “I am not letting you touch my hair. And I’m definitely not letting you touch my hair so I can look good for Richard.”

“Not for Richard.” Angie scoffs. “Foryou, for your self-confidence when you run into him again. You can’t be a Negative Nancy for the rest of your life. You have to get out there and show him that you don’t care.”

“Idon’tcare.”

“Then show him that. Show him how well you’re doing without him! It will be an amazing confidence booster.”

“Angie, I do not need new hair or a new dress to show Richard that I’m doing well without him. I don’t need to boost my confidence. I have plenty of confidence.”

“Then why haven’t you been on a single date since Richard left?”

“Because I don’t feel like dating! And who would I even go out with around here if I did? West Harbor is a dating wasteland for heterosexual women. Thanks to all the witches that have moved in, the ratio of single women to single men in this town is ten to...”

My voice trails off because Angie has pulled a dress from the Enchantments bag and is holding it up for me to see.

I don’t have many occasions to wear dresses. I’m a T-shirt and jeans kind of girl, except when I’m wearing yoga pants with a more professional-looking top for telehealth appointments with my patients. The only time I dress up is to accompany my mother to church for Christmas and Easter mass, my nieces’ christenings and communion, and various other Catholic holy days of obligation.

The dress Angie is holding up would not only be inappropriate to wear to church, it would be inappropriate to wear just about anywhere in West Harbor.

That’s because it’s red. And also because it has a silver zipper all the way down the back, a zipper so long, it has a ribbon attached to it so the person wearing the dress can zip it up like a scuba suit. And like a scuba suit, it looks impossibly small. It’s got ruching at the waist to make it even more formfitting.

“Is thissuede?”I demand, stepping forward despite myself to take the dress from Angie’s hands.