Winter break was going fairly normally, which was an interesting turn of events for Evelyn. She liked that “normal” now included Ness and Ness’ family. She was comfortable talking with Kir, with Ness’ parents, and she was comfortable with the goings-on of the McLeod home. It was easy being there, and she felt more relaxed than she’d been in a long time.
Evelyn hadn’t told Ness about her conversation with Professor Wright, but she hoped that it showed in the way she took to life with a new motivation. She wasn’t perfect still, but she was doing much better about controlling her magic, and she was smiling more often. She was sure that Ness’ mother noticed the change. Still, the holidays couldn’t go on forever, and Evelyn was insistent that she visit home before going back to school.
When she arrived at the house she’d grown up in, Evelyn was surprised to find that it didn’t hurt so much. She’d stopped by at the beginning of the break to say hi to CJ and collect her belongings for the stay at Ness’, as well as just to do the appropriate visit with her father, but there had been some residual hope there. Now, with Christmas behind them and no card or letter on the horizon, Evelyn had resigned herself to the fact that her mother was probably not coming home. That wasn’t to say it was easy or okay, just that it was.
“I’m only stopping by,” she told her father when he greeted her at the door. “Ms. Heidi is going to drop me off for school.” True to her word, Evelyn turned to gesture outside, where the social worker assigned to Evelyn’s family was waiting with a polite smile. She was a generally friendly witch, and Evelyn felt bad that she’d never cared to notice before. Her father made a strange expression but didn’t question it.
“Charles is in his room. He’s just gone down for a nap, I’d rather you didn’t—“ He gestured uselessly, apparently trying to find the words to ask his estranged daughter not to interrupt her brother’s nap to say goodbye because it might be an inconvenience to him. Considering how rarely the siblings were reunited, Evelyn could almost see his point. At the same time, if she didn’t wake him, she wouldn’t see him.
She didn’t respond to her father, only made her way into CJ’s bedroom. It was her bedroom too, once. It was even just a few months ago. But somehow, it didn’t feel like that anymore. This was CJ’s room, in CJ’s home. She only hoped it would be a better home for him than it had been for her.
Evelyn stood on her tiptoes to peer over the edge of the crib. CJ was asleep with his thumb in his mouth, and she gently loosed his hand. Her curled his hand into a fist and tucked it against his chest. A lock of blonde hair curled around his face.
Evelyn didn’t wake him. Collecting some of her favorite sweaters from the closet, as well as a few extra pairs of socks, Evelyn left her brother’s room with only a whispered “I love you.” As it turned out, being kind and being strong and being brave were very difficult things to be. She made a mental note to forgive Professor Brooding for being so annoyingly chipper, simply on the grounds that anyone who could pull it off must have been working very hard to do so.
The path to the living room was familiar. The faded wood floors, the pictures on the walls, the sunlight that streamed in through windows in rooms with open doors, and the number of steps it took were all things that Evelyn knew she would never forget. Even the smell of sea air was as familiar as anything else she could think of. It was fourteen steps from CJ’s bedroom to the living room, where her father was standing with his hands in his pockets. He made no move to greet her.
“I’ll see you this summer,” Evelyn said to her father. They stood facing each other in silence for a moment until her father jerked his head in an abrupt nod and turned away.
She shut the door behind her when she went outside, stuffed her extra clothes in a magically expanded bag that Ms. Heidi offered, and took the witch’s arm. The two disapparated with a cracking sound, and Evelyn let the swirling colors of the distance growing between her and her family be her only goodbye.
When she opened her eyes, Evelyn and Ms. Heidi were standing in front of a pet store. Evelyn looked up, confused, as this was certainly not a transportation center.
“I know that things have been difficult for you, and I wondered if you might like somebody you can always have with you. That way you won’t always have different people around when you’re at school, at home, at Ness’. Would you like a pet, Evelyn?” Ms. Heidi asked, reminding Evelyn for all the world of Professor Skies just then. It was the sort of stoic friendliness that never quite let you forget how dangerous a person could be, and thus ceaselessly glad they liked you. In this case, Evelyn just nodded mutely, her eyes round with surprise.
They took their time walking through the pet store, with Ms. Heidi steering Evelyn away from some of the more exotic options (“I’m sorry, but ferrets aren’t allowed at Sonora. Maybe you can adopt a new buddy when you graduate!”) and Evelyn thoroughly convinced that she was important. When they finally left the store, Evelyn’s bag was suited with all of the necessary items for caring for the small purple pygmy puff that was resting on her shoulder.
Edgar was the most precious thing Evelyn thought she’d ever seen, and she couldn’t help grinning as they left the menagerie. When they arrived at the transportation center and she turned to say goodbye to Ms. Heidi, she found the witch with misty eyes and an outstretched hand. Within it, there was an envelope with Evelyn’s name on the front.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d already gotten a holiday card,” she said softly, letting go as Evelyn took it from her.
Blushing, Evelyn retrieved a similar envelope with the social worker’s name on the front and passed it to her. “I thought the same thing. Thank you for everything, ma’am.”
The witch dipped her head and smiled, stepping back to wave at Evelyn as she boarded and departed for school. When she opened the card, she found that it was both sweet, and practical; turned upside down, it made a perfect spot of shade for Edgar to sleep underneath. The pygmy puff curled up contentedly, her little snorts of pleasure enough to convince Evelyn that maybe – just maybe – everything was going to be okay.