Part 2: Chapter 14

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Josselin was up early, as always, and Meara not much later. They stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and talking as they sipped at their morning coffee and Meara related his first day back in the flower shop. The thick, heavy smell of frankincense and myrrh drifted in through the walkway to the living room.

"It was just so weird," he finally finished. He poured himself another cup of coffee. "Nobody's ever asked me for weed before. And I've never heard anyone call it marijuana except --"

He stopped short and Josselin looked up from his mug. "Meara?"

"It was an undercover cop," Meara said. "My fucking mother falsely reported me to the cops."

"Your mother?" Josselin repeated. "Are you sure?"

Meara turned to Josselin with a frown. "Who else would it be? I've never sold anything illegal or even legal drugs like wormwood and mandrake. Why would a customer do it? You saw how angry she was at the hospital. I wouldn't..."

Josselin paused, but Meara didn't continue. "You wouldn't...?"

"I did a one card reading yesterday about the situation. It was The Empress reversed. It had to be her. There's nobody else it could be. The idea crossed my mind yesterday but I didn't really put it together for real until just now."

"It could have just been random?" Josselin suggested tentatively.

"At a florist's? Unlikely. Maybe at a greenhouse. But not a place like mine."

Josselin sighed and put his cup on the counter, then crossed his arms. He pushed his messy hair out of his face, leaving it sticking out at odd angles. Meara chuckled and smoothed it down. Josselin caught his hand, holding it against his neck, leaning into its warmth.

"I guess you're right," he said. "But, I mean, you sent him away. You don't even have anything to sell if you wanted to. That should be the end of it, right?"

"I hope so," Meara murmured. He took another sip of his coffee and turned away. "Just be careful," he finally said. He turned back to Josselin again. "If she finds out you're working next door, she might try to go after you, too. Accuse you of using dirty needles or something."

Josselin looked affronted at even the thought of such an accusation. "Would she really?" he asked softly.

"She might," Meara said. He sighed heavily and picked his mug back up, gazing into the dark brown coffee. "I know you and your mom were like, best friends, Josselin, but not everyone has a family like that. Mrs. Yazdi is more my mom than my mother is. Her whole family is more my family than my birth one. Danny's my brother in every way but blood."

Josselin looked down at his feet, clutching his mug close to his chest. What could he say to an admittance like that? I'm sorry? Stupid. Meaningless.

"My mom's selfish and self-obsessed," Meara continued. "Everything is all about her, all the time. How good or bad or inconvenient it makes things, for her. And because of my depression, I was an inconvenience."

"Wait, what?" Josselin's head jerked up from the floor. Depression? Meara had never said a word about it.

"Yeah," Meara said. "I'm fine, now that I'm properly medicated. But for a long time I wasn't and it was too big a bother for her to try to help me. Mrs. Yazdi did everything she could, but since she's not my legal guardian, it wasn't much. Just yell at my mom a lot over the phone."

"Did you get your medication yesterday? Will you get it today? Are you going to be all right after spending the night here? Are --"

"Josselin, breathe," Meara chuckled. "I'm fine. I take my meds in the morning, and ever since I got stuck overnight without them at Danny's once, I always keep a couple extras on me." He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and waggled it back and forth. "I have a tiny pill box in here. I just took them downstairs last time because I wasn't ready to explain it to you, yet."

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