Work Text:
"She's doing it again."
Frances looks up from the mugwort spread out on a screen in the greenhouse. Kylie stands before her, two frown lines bisecting her forehead in that way that all of the redheaded Owens women do. Frances tilts her head, suddenly feeling far too much like her sister, and smiles in invitation.
"Who's doing it?" she asks, fingers returning to feeling and turning the mugwort leaves by intuition, seeking out the varying levels of dryness. "And what is it she's doing?"
"Aunt Gillian." By the sound of her voice, Kylie is coming closer. "She's just sitting out by the trellis and the rose bush. I think she's got his ring, too. I don't get it, Aunt Franny. He was awful to her and Mommy, he frightened Antonia and me, and he attacked Gary. He tried to kill her, for crying out loud! Why would she be so sad about him now? Or at all?"
With a soft smile, Frances taps the space on the bench table next to her. "Come here, my dear Kylie, and help an old woman take care of the mugwort and lavender. While you do that, let me tell you a little story about love and us Owens women."
Kylie joins her as requested, and those frown lines recede only slightly. "But I already know about the Owens family curse. You and Aunt Jet explained it when we first moved here, and Mommy's explained it, too. But he was a bad man and he hurt Aunt Gillian."
"The story of the family curse means different things at different points in your life, Kylie. You're still young and haven't yet felt the flush of first love. If you're lucky, that won't happen for many years to come yet. You have your mother's sense of right and wrong and healthy limits for everything. But you also have the fiery passion of a redheaded Owens woman, just like Gillian and your Aunt Jet, so who knows?"
Kylie lets out a soft, confused laugh, then brings a handful of lavender buds up to her face to inhale deeply. "What does being a redhead have to do with why Aunt Gillian's being so…" Her face scrunches up then, and Frances knows she's searching for the right word. She doesn't have to wait long for the result. "So maudlin? It's not like her at all. It's more like Mommy was when Daddy died."
Frances' lips curl up in a sad smile as she turns her head as if to peer out through the frosted glass to see her elder niece by the rose bush. Her eyes close as she mutters the words of a calming spell, casting the energy toward said niece, even as she knows it likely won't work. If she knows anything, she knows how Gillian's heart works, perhaps all too well. Head barely moving in a nod, she returns her gaze to her grandniece.
"Your aunt Gillian is suffering the same way that your mother did. Just because Gillian didn't marry that man, and thank all the gods for that, it doesn't mean that she didn't love him very much or that she misses him any less. There had to be something good about Jimmy Angelove for her to fall in love in the first place, even if it wasn't very long-lived."
Kylie wrinkles up her nose at that. "Love doesn't make any kind of sense. And I heard Mommy and Aunt Gillian talking about the Deathwatch Beetle. Mommy said she heard it before Daddy died, but Aunt Gillian didn't hear it with him." Kylie never says his name, upholding the superstition about speaking ill of the dead. "If there was no beetle, how can it have been the family curse?"
Finishing with the mugwort, Frances moves the screen aside and reaches for another, this one fragrant with rosemary needles. She falls into the familiarity of sifting her fingers through the drying needles, breathing in its heady scent.
"When my Ethan died, I didn't hear the beetle either." Frances frowns suddenly, fingers stilling mid-sift. "I always wondered why that was, why I wasn't like the rest of the Owens women who were so deeply in love and lost their men. It's taken all of these years and more research than I care to admit to for me to realize that the reason I never heard the beetle when Ethan died is because he didn't truly love me back. Not like I loved him. And I think that's the case with your Aunt Gillian and Ji-- him."
Kylie nods slowly and Frances feels her grandniece's eyes on her. The only sounds in the greenhouse are the sifting of herbs against screens and the faint whistle of Kylie's breathing, barely heard under the winds building up on the other side of the glass panes. Frances considers speaking, but the rhythmic flap of slippers against the kitchen floor alerts her to a new presence. She looks up past Kylie's profile to the door for no more than a minute before it opens to reveal the only man to currently live in the family home.
"There you are, Kylie," he says with a bright smile. Frances can see and hear the affection he has for her grandniece, and it warms her heart to know how much he accepts the whole family. "I thought I might find you out here. Your mom is out getting your aunt in from the cold so we can work on decorating the tree."
"Is it that time already?" Frances asks with a knowing smile. "Where does the time go?" She winks at Gary then. "Come on, Kylie, let's get these screens back in order. We can check on them again the day after tomorrow. We have other plans now." Before Kylie can respond, they hear Sally calling her name out. "Go on, dear, I can finish up and be in there in a few minutes."
"You need any help with that?"
He steps into the greenhouse as Kylie moves past him into the house, still so cautious around the magic that is so commonplace in the house, but he's slowly learning the benefits. He smiles as he inhales the scents that have been stirred up in Frances' work. She doesn't even have to point out where to put the screens of drying herbs. Gary simply picks up the first screen, then stops to look at her.
"Do these need to be in any special order in the stack?" His sheepish grin makes her chuckle. "I have the basics, but it's only been a couple months. You'll need to give me a little more time before I get all the intricacies figured out."
"Take all the time you need, my dear boy. It's been a lifetime of study for us Owens women."
He laughs softly at that. "Yeah, that's what I've heard. You Owens women have led some pretty crazy lives, haven't you? It's gonna take me a lifetime just to learn all about yours."
"Whenever you're curious, just ask. We'll never lie to you, Gary. Well, I can only speak for myself and maybe my sister." She winks at him, a saucy grin curling up her lips. "And no, to answer your earlier question, the trays don't need to be in any special order."
They work quietly for a moment or two before he answers the question she's been unable to ask. "Gillian's not doing so good today. Sally wasn't sure she'd be able to bring her in from the cold, but hope springs eternal with her."
"That hasn't always been the case with Sally, you know. She's always been the more practical sister, just as I have and Kylie is shaping up to be the same. Hope and random chance are the purview of our sisters. That Sally is relying on hope now is, in large part, due to you. And I'm not sure that Jet and I have properly thanked you for that."
"That's not necessary, Frances. I'm sure she's not as bad as you make it sound."
Frances shrugs her shoulders. "Maybe she is, maybe she's not. Either way, she's a much happier person again with her sister and you in her life. Sally does her best when she has a strong support structure."
*****
When the greenhouse is finally set to rights again, Frances shoos Gary out with the admonition of making sure to track some of that dirt into the house. He chuckles and says something that she doesn't quite catch, but his tone suggests a sarcastic reply about dirty floors and new slippers. She stands in the middle of the room, surrounded by the scents she's been inhaling her entire life. The sounds of the family gathering in the living room to decorate the tree filter in, bringing a smile to her lips. The house feels full and just right at this moment in time.
She never said it to Kylie or Gary, but she knows a good chunk of Gillian's issue with getting over Jimmy Angelove. And so, just as she and Jet did for Sally, she reaches into a bowl of various stones to pick out two with which to devise a simple spell for her elder niece. After a few seconds, she grabs a third stone and a small muslin pouch on a leather cord. Continuing to murmur the words of the spell, Frances drops amethyst, bloodstone, and a large apache tear into the pouch before pressing her lips to the material. Satisfied with the spell she's put into place, she pockets it and goes to join her family.
The living room is a tranquil sea of quiet storms erupting in various corners as people ebb and flow into each other's spheres of influence. Jet and Sally are front and center, guiding the rest of the family in the unpacking and separating of decorations by their final locations. Kylie and Antonia happily do as they're told, Kylie occasionally helping Gary with the final placement of the tree. When Sally grins, Gary joins the girls in separating out everything.
Frances' eyes move to Gillian, curled up under a down comforter in the chair before the fire. Gillian's eyes are closed, head tilting forward slightly, which allows Frances the opportunity to slip the pouch around her neck.
"Wha--"
"Shh," Frances murmurs in her ear before shifting to sit on the arm of the chair. "It's just a little something to help you back on the path of equilibrium again. Don't take it off until I say so, all right?"
Gillian's hand wraps around the pouch, a genuine smile on her lips as she nuzzles into Frances' side. "Thanks, Aunt Franny."
A gentle kiss is dropped on her hair. "Anything for you, Gilly-bean. You're not alone and you don't have to do this in silence. We're all here for you, no matter what."
chase_acow Mon 25 Dec 2017 12:51PM UTC
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