A cursed family for the rest of our lives? Yes, unless we can figure out a way to break it. But I’m okay if we don’t.
All of a sudden, the brooch on my sweater feels extra heavy, as if it approves.
EPILOGUE
Taylen
“Have I ever told you how much I like this place?”
Elodie turns around, soap bubbles dripping from her hands because she hates using the dishwasher for some reason, and grins at me. “Only about a thousand times.”
“I like that we have privacy, and you have a huge balcony that overlooks just a fraction of the French Quarter. It’s not too much such that you can’t have any privacy but enough that it’s fun to go for evening walks. I like how you’re not that far from Luna’s shop, and you drop in just to surprise her on some days, always bringing freshly baked treats when you do. I like that you drive to my sister’s boutique and give her some of your famous cookies and also pay a visit to Ash and Ellis because they’re close by. I like…okay, I’m rambling. I just love that you love my family—my crazy, loud, obnoxious, and cursed family.”
“Well, Leandra’s not cursed yet even though she’s been looking hard for her soulmate,” Elodie points out, her eyes glinting. There’s currently a batch of chocolate chip cookies in the oven, and she insisted on cleaning the dishes right away. She likes keeping her new condo clean.
Even though it’s not that new, she’s been here for just over a month. After we explained everything to her parents, they were totally fine with her purchasing her first house. She didn’t need the bug-out bag full of cash, and they never froze her accounts. They were more than happy to help with her house hunt, even if it did make them sad that she was finally moving out. They didn’t put up a fight or guilt-trip her at all, and I was proud of them for that. Instead, they helped her with the paperwork, finding an agent, and the location, and also, they did it all without shedding any unhappy tears. But happy ones? Oh man, there were a ton of those.
“She’s cursed,” I correct. “We all are. I think searching for that special someone has turned her into a monster. She won’t leave it alone now. It was better when she was avoiding it.”
Elodie shrugs. She turns to the right, soap now dripping on the floor, and stares at the cookies through the oven window. The condo is located in an ancient building. The whole thing is baby blue stucco with wrought-iron balconies, but the interior has all been modernized, and the appliances are stainless steel. The stove is a gas stove, which took some getting used to, but Elodie was so thrilled with her new place and incredible kitchen that she signed us up for cooking lessons. She’s found a new love of baking. She makes Jeffers dog treats every week, and he absolutely loves them. I think he really just adores Elodie, and he’d eat them even if he didn’t like them.
I could say I’m the same way, too, because I’d eat her cookies, cakes, and pies even if they were bad. But they’re not. They’re incredible. I’ve had to up my workouts, but it’s a good thing Elodie also found a new love of jogging. She always hated tennis because her parents loved it, but when I confessed to liking it too, she admitted she’d always secretly kind of enjoyed playing, so we do that too. And we walk Jeffers together. She’s also been talking about taking dance lessons together again as a throwback to the past.
I have to say I’m in favor of the idea, but I also have to say that I hope we can do the more significant parts of dancing right here, like a self tutorial that ends without clothes on.
“I think they’re pretty much done.” Elodie wipes her hands on a tea towel with puppies on it—one of the many housewarming gifts from her parents—and pulls open the oven door.
The delicious scent of burnt sugar and succulent chocolate wafts out, filling the kitchen. My mouth waters as Elodie lifts the tray out and sets the cookies on top of the stove to cool. After she shuts the oven off, she turns to me, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.
“The cookies turned out so perfectly that I think we should give them to your grandma. She’d appreciate them. Chocolate chip cookies are her new boyfriend’s favorite.”
“Don’t talk about her new boyfriend,” I groan. “Especially since he’s ten years younger than her.”
Elodie grins. “Love knows no bounds. Or is it no age? No age and no bounds?”
“I don’t want to think about my granny being in love.”
“Why not?” She stands on her tiptoes and rubs my nose with hers playfully. “I’m surprised you’ve never had a meeting with everyone to get your granny back for the curse. You’ve never thought about getting her a cursed heirloom of her own?”