The Memory Keeper

Chapter 8

Natalie and Piper stood on the sidewalk in downtown Coldton, coats buttoned to their necks, which were also wrapped in scarves. Natalie adjusted her fleece earmuffs nervously, looking at the strings of light wrapped around lamp posts and across the narrow spaces between buildings in honor of their guest star. The stone path reflected back the red and silver lights, made clear for the event, leaving piles of snow on the side. Kids gathered snow balls in their gloved fists, and were throwing them at each other.

Piper stood with her back to the front of the tailor shop, arms crossed over her chest. Her hair was pulled into a braided bun on top of her head, and she wore eye glitter for the occasion.

Natalie's face was sallow. She had not eaten a thing all day, too busy taking everything from her cabinets and packing them in boxes to hide under her bed upstairs. Piper helped, when she was not pressing her cheeks to the window in the door in search of the cabriolet Natalie had described.

Now the girls stood, surrounded by smiling, talkative people, waving sparklers and sloshing hot chocolate and champagne in the crystal snow. People were not supposed to be out tonight, but once word had gotten out of their visitor, everyone threw on their coats and boots for the chance to see her face.

Natalie bit her knuckles until they were swollen pink with crescent marks. "This must mean she is hosting a ball or meeting for the mind weavers." Someone pushed past her at that moment, sending her over the lip of the sidewalk, face first in the snow.

A second later, Piper was hauling her to her feet. "You poor, poor creature," she cooed, slapping the snow from the mind weaver's shoulders.

"I should have listened to you."

A cloud escaped Piper's mouth as she took a deep breath. "Well, yeah. But at the same time... what can I say?" She watched, looking amused, as mimes came walking by, and one of them approached Piper, pretending to drop to one knee and open a small box. The witch laughed, throwing her hand out for him to kiss.

Natalie was too distracted to pay any attention. But if she had been, she would have felt too jealous for words. She had always found Piper beautiful, like a sun-kissed princess, her startling amber eyes like rings of fire.

Heart thrashing in her chest, Natalie waited. The cabriolet was supposed to come down this street, followed by fireworks and late night stories around tables of whiskey in the most popular pubs, where they would whisper about the castle in Cape Colette's crystal mountains.

Mind weavers like Natalie were not as interesting as the white-robed ones. Like diamonds in a pool of silver coins. Through a spray of snow under merchant carts, taking full advantage of the crowds, Natalie spotted a familiar face across the street on the other sidewalk.

Mr. Sheinfeld. He watched the activity the same as she and Piper, but without much interest. Like he did not know what was going on, or hardly cared, having just happened to be out and about for a stroll. His eyes found hers and locked. There was nothing in his expression or body language that made her want to cross the street to where he was. He simply stared, like he had never met her before.

Beside her, Piper stiffened, like she had spotted a ghost. When Natalie looked to see what the matter was, she turned away, but tugged her sleeve. "Look, Nat, they are selling fried pickles, your favorite."

When the mind weaver looked back for Peter, not bothering to remind Piper how much she hated fried pickles, he was no longer there. He had not approached her. He had not even smiled. She felt absurd, as though someone had placed a dunce hat on her head.

She let Piper buy her some fried pickles, but each one she popped into her mouth had as much flavor as cardboard. They sat in chairs, across a small table from each other. Grinning faces began to blur and circle her vision. She hardly noticed the laughter and chatter had turned to clapping and whistling. Everything moved in slow motion. Noises fell into a deep drone in Natalie's ears.