Free In the Stars by Whitney Boyd

credit, my mother chuckles. “You remind me so much of my mother. Your Grammy Krause was a cantankerous, superstitious old German who instilled in you and your brother way too much of her outdated belief system. Did I ever tell you that she thought that rainwater found on tombstones would cure freckles? She rubbed grave water all over your body when you were three years old in an attempt to get rid of your freckles. I came home from work and found her right in the middle of it. You were standing in the bathtub and she had this grody old jar full of water from a tombstone.”
    I stare at the reflection of myself in the now-shiny window I’ve been scrubbing. I have more freckles than the Milky Way has stars. Looks like the grave water didn’t work out so well. “Okay, so maybe that was a disturbing and epic fail, but some of the things she taught us were legit.”
    My mom is on a roll. “Grammy didn’t kill spiders because it was considered bad luck. So instead, she would put a glass jar over the spider and keep it locked away until either your dad or I got home from work and then we’d have to kill them. There were overturned canning jars all over the house during the summer. You and your brother would decorate them with markers.”
    I vaguely remember those jars but until now I never knew that was the reason behind it. And, no offense to Grammy, but that does seem a little ridiculous. “Maybe she had acute arachnophobia and that’s why she didn’t kill them,” I offer, but my mom ploughs ahead.
    “Every time it rained with the sun shining, she would hide in the basement because of some German folklore that sun showers make poison fall from heaven. I remember when you were born Mother wouldn’t look out the window for six weeks while holding you because she felt that cars driving by would take a bit of luck away from you.”
    She makes my Grammy sound like a crazy person and I feel a hint of shame. This isn’t what I sound like, right? I mean, my superstitions may not be scientific fact, but the evidence behind them is sound. Why else would my life have been so cruddy ever since Drew dumped me? Why else would I have been fired for no real reason?
    “Well, I’m not that extreme,” I mutter, more to myself than to my mother.
    “Let’s change subjects,” my mother says brightly. “No more talk of these silly notions. I have next week off from the hospital and I was hoping you and I could go visit your brother in Lethbridge together. What do you say?”
    Next week I am in Victoria, winning back the love of my life. “I’m actually going out of town with Josh.”
    “Josh?” My mom’s voice perks up about three octaves. “I really like that boy. Where are the two of you headed?”
    I pull the phone away from my ear. She made no attempt to hide her joy. She’s always had a thing for Josh. During his undergrad he had minored in Health Sciences, so he and my mother have plenty to talk about whenever they see each other. Which typically happens every few months when his fridge is empty and I’m going home for family dinners. It seems like he’s hungry every time I tell him my mom’s cooking.
    “We’re going to Victoria,” I confess, deciding on the spot that honesty is the best policy when it comes to my mother. She has a sixth sense whenever my brother or I try to lie. Plus, the truth is better than her jumping to conclusions about me and Josh. “Remember Drew who I dated a few years ago?”
    “Drew, Drew, oh yes, the boy you brought camping with us in Yoho and he couldn’t handle using an outhouse.” She chuckles at the memory. “He plugged his nose and acted quite the little diva before his intestines forced him in there.”
    “Okay, well that’s not the most flattering memory of him,” I admit, “but he was a really great guy overall, and I’m going out to Victoria to see him.”
    “And you’re bringing Josh?”
    “He wanted to come,” I say defensively.
    “So what made you decide to