Witches Under Way (14 page)

Delivered,
she sent to Caro. 
Don’t do anything loud over there today.

Do I look like a fool?
  came the dry reply. 
For now, I’m going to try to get some sleep.  That poetry of yours is quite lovely, by the way.  Caught snippets during the night.  Your barriers slide when you write.

Lizard stared at the wall in horror.  And thanked the gods it had only been dead-poet words on her brain.  She’d been too busy to write any of her own lately. 
Sorry.  I’ll keep my head shut next time.

That would be a shame, girl.  A real shame.

Trying not to stomp, Lizard stormed down the stairs.  Quietly.  She’d be writing her essays at the office from now on.

~ ~ ~

Jennie’s hands hung up dripping images on her drying lines, her mind noodling.  Her damn pendant had vibrated half the night, and Melvin’s reply to her grumpy 6 a.m. text hadn’t been soothing. 
It vibrates when the chains on their souls are moving.

What was that supposed to mean?

She looked at the topsy-turvy row of pictures she’d just pinned up, and sighing, moved back to the beginning of the line.  A jumbled mind was no excuse for a sloppy darkroom.  Even retired photographers had to have some standards.

It vibrates when the chains on their souls are moving.

Generally Melvin chose his words with the same deft touch she used in framing a portrait.  Jennie stepped back a moment, remembering a night of karaoke and his words then.  What was it he had said to Lizard? 
Call this the point of being unlocked, but not yet unfettered.

Indeed.  You could unlock a heart—but the chains still carried weight. 

Hands moving meditatively again, Jennie contemplated her two students.  Lizard seemed to have taken hold of her life with a vengeance.  Success at work, success at school—she’d thrown herself into both with an energy that was close to frenetic.

Jennie was no stranger to frenetic.  Or to the demons inside that could drive such a pace.  She chuckled as her pendant vibrated again.  “Message received, Melvin.”  Lizard might have flipped her chains over, and this side might be a little shinier than the last, but they still weighed heavy.  Believing in yourself was no small task, and their tattooed fairy still had quite a journey ahead of her.

One that might get gently prodded by a nice boy.  Or if Lauren was to be believed, a sexy, driven, confident young man with a sweet appreciation for Lizard.  Which was fascinating, and a bit worrisome.  Lizard likely wasn’t ready to be appreciated, and Jennie knew all too well what a defiant young woman might do when handed such a gift.

She shook her head, laughing.  “Took your pessimist pills this morning, did you?”  Talking to the walls in her darkroom was long habit—laughing at herself, slightly more recent.  It took maturity to giggle at your own foibles.  Both her students still took themselves far too seriously.

Or not seriously enough.

Elsie was definitely swinging between those two extremes, and Jennie wasn’t sure which way to push her.  If her vibrating pendant meant shifting chains, then Elsie’s were definitely on the move—but unbalancing a heavy load might just make her student land on her face. 

Nat had tried to lift one of the heaviest chains off Elsie’s back.  Jennie had an idea for how to lift another, one Elsie might appreciate even less than being fired.  However, the timing wasn’t yet right for that.  First, they needed to give her a chance to play on the swing by herself a little.  Meddling was always the second choice—it was far better if a witch could be the force for change in her own life.

She snorted, remembering all too well how badly she had needed Melvin’s meddling.  Ah, well.  It was worth a try, at least.  She straightened one last photo on her drying wire.  Tomorrow, she would meet with her students again—and try to help them frame a picture.

~ ~ ~

Elsie landed in Vero’s living room, both hands holding her head.  Maybe that way it wouldn’t fall off.  She squinted at the light and moaned.  Coming had been a mistake.  She could barely whisper, much less sing.  For the first time in her life, she was about to report in sick for an appointment.

“Tsk, tsk.”  Vero glided two steps into the room and halted.  “Melvin dear, it looks like you were right.”

Elsie jumped as Melvin chuckled behind her.  “Of course I’m right—have you taken a whiff of that concoction?”

Vero’s laugh rolled as she headed back down the hall.  She returned a minute later with a glass that struck terror in Elsie’s heart—a twin to the one Lizard had shoved in her hands two hours prior.  “I can’t drink that.  I tried.  It tastes like raw frogs.”

“An apt description, child.”  Vero looked amused, but also oddly sympathetic.  “Sometimes we must suffer for our art.  I’m sure it tastes absolutely vile, but I can promise it will make that head of yours feel much better.  Ginia is a talented healer.”

Elsie stared at the glass, stomach roiling in fierce protest.

Melvin smiled.  “Try holding your nose.  I hear that can help.”

Vero snorted.  “Try plotting revenge on Ginia the next time you see her.  I speak from experience, unlike my accountant husband who never does anything silly enough to earn him a hangover.”  She wrapped an arm around Elsie’s shoulders.  “We singers are more prone to excess, aren’t we, love?  Go on now.  Drink it down.”

Vero’s strong arm and Melvin’s sympathetic smile helped Elsie find the bravery she hadn’t been able to muster standing in her bedroom alone.  With one hand, she plugged her nose.  With the other, she tipped back the glass of raw frogs.

It was utterly, outrageously, flamboyantly vile.  And it only took seconds to start making her head feel better.

Melvin held out a cup of tea.  “Here, try this for a chaser.  It’ll get rid of some of that taste.”

Vero snorted again.  “Not unless you’ve spiked it with a little whiskey, dear—and that’s probably not what Elsie needs right now.”  She moved to the door, her bearing a royal summons.  “Come now.  Let’s go sing, shall we?”

Elsie leaned down to kiss Melvin’s cheek, greatly relieved that her head seemed more prone to staying on her shoulders now.  “Thank you.”

He raised his hands to her face.  “You have some rough mornings ahead of you yet, my girl.  Learn from my wife.  She is magnificent in moments of joy, and suffering, and everything in between.”

As she walked down the hall to the music room, Elsie pondered his words.  And wished she had a small fraction of Vero’s bold style.  Or even her beautifully colorful dress. 

Elsie entered the room and walked over to stand by the grand piano.  Vero looked up from a sheaf of music, eyes twinkling.  “Is my husband telling you nonsense about me again?”

“He really loves you.”  Elsie had no idea where those words had come from, but she felt their power.  “You’re not at all alike, but he knows exactly who you are.”

“Yes.”  Vero laid her hands on the piano keys.  “He is the greatest gift of my life—and I’m finally old enough and wise enough to appreciate him.”  She smiled softly.  “I didn’t always—and I will be eternally grateful he had the patience to wait for me to figure it out.”

There was a story behind those words.  Elsie tilted her head, curious.  Seeking.

“Ah, my dear.”  Vero stood and moved over to a window, her gaze somewhere far, far away.  “I was such a restless soul.  A woman of extremes and large passions.  I wanted to feel everything, do everything.  I found love in an artist’s garret in Paris and wept in the streets of Prague when he broke my heart.  I tasted all of the grapes of Tuscany and sang out my pain with some of Italy’s greatest tenors.”  She smiled.  “If you had told me then that true happiness would come sitting over a cup of tea with a blind accountant…”

Elsie’s heart ached, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.  “Do you not need those things now?”

“Oh, I’ll always need them.”  Vero returned to the piano, smiling.  “I was born with big feelings.  And without my Paris artist or my Tuscan grapes, I wouldn’t know tea and happiness for what it is.” 

“And the music.” 

“Always.”  Vero patted Elsie’s hand.  “You have some of my passion in you—I see it when you sing.  Don’t be afraid to be bold, darling girl, even if it causes the occasional headache.” 

Elsie looked down at her hands, clutching the piano.  “I mostly just feel silly.”

Vero laughed, coating the room in rich melody.  “Part of the package.  You can’t live a bold life and not feel silly at least once a day.  In fact, I suggest plenty of practice.”  Her hands ran briskly over the keys.  “Let’s get our voices moving, shall we?  I have a small aria we could try today—it’s always felt to me like a celebration of silliness.”

Already Elsie felt the music tugging at her heart.  And an odd desire to be a little outrageous.  Perhaps, even silly.

~ ~ ~

Lauren tried not to laugh as Thea sashayed into the office, broadcasting a very clear mental picture of herself as a hot-air balloon.  Ever since Thea had discovered her realtors were mind witches, she’d made it her mission to share as many over-the-top thoughts as possible.

Their very pregnant client was two days away from taking possession of her new home—and Lauren hoped Bean wasn’t going to crash the party.

Thea sat down, rolling her eyes.  “I’m not going to give birth in your office, I promise.”  She grinned.  “I went to the diner for bacon and eggs this morning—you’d have thought I was a small bomb or something.”

“You do look kind of ready to pop,” said Lauren, pulling out her snickerdoodle stash.  She knew better than to try to hide cookies from pregnant women.  “What brings you by?”

Thea neatly snagged two cookies and rested one on her belly.  “I was visiting with Louise.” 

Lauren laughed.  Usually clients waited until they actually moved in to meet the neighbors.  Thea had already made fast friends with the two seventy-year-old ladies who lived next door, and they’d already thrown her and Bean a big backyard barbecue.  Since they’d lived in their little bungalow for forty years, that meant Thea was now on a first-name basis with half the neighborhood.

“Louise is knitting the most awesome baby booties for Bean.  And Norman, the nice old man from down the road, has a rocking chair he insists we have.”  Thea giggled, eyes a little misty.  “Louise says to watch out for him, though—apparently he’s a bit of a pool shark.  He always wins the Thursday night tournaments.”

“They have pool tournaments?”  Lauren wasn’t above pumping people for the kind of insider information that closed real-estate deals all the time.  Of course, it was probably already on Lizard’s maps.  She couldn’t keep up.

Thea nodded, polishing off her first cookie.  “Sure.  Lizard told Louise to tell me all about them.  Says there’s lots of cute guys and plenty of hands to hold babies.”  She grinned.  “I’m going next week—Norm says I can be his partner for the first one.  He won’t fleece me until I’ve been around for a while.”

She had the world’s most unconventional real estate assistant.  “Lizard’s trying to hook you up with a cute guy?”

“Pretty much.”  Thea patted her belly as she swiped Bean’s cookie.  “We don’t really need one, but Lizard’s a good friend, and we don’t mind if some of our new neighbors are cute.”

Lauren wondered if old-guy-and-pool-shark Norm fell into that category.  Probably—Thea was generous with her affections, and clearly there was a small village already lining up to help with Bean.  She wondered if Lizard even knew how above-and-beyond she was going.

Thea turned as Lizard came through the open front door.  “Hey, Lizzie.  I came to snag you for dinner.  Bean and I are buying, so long as you feel like linguine.”

Lauren tried to hide her grin.  Her assistant would have throttled anyone else who dared to call her Lizzie. 

Lizard blinked.  “Isn’t it like 3 o’clock in the afternoon?”

“Bean’s hungry.”  Thea shrugged.  “If you’re not hungry, we’ll go eat noodles by ourselves.”

“Can’t.”  Lizard looked pained.  “I have way too much stuff to do.”

Lauren refrained from volunteering to come—barely.  Romano’s linguine was her absolute favorite.  And she held off on whacking her assistant with a mental two-by-four, pretty sure Thea was up to that task.

“You can’t turn down a date with Bean,” Thea said, slinging her arm through Lizard’s.  “It’s a pregnant-lady rule.”

Lizard snorted.  “You totally make up those rules.”

“Of course I do.”  Thea grinned.  “And when
you’re
pregnant, you can make them up, too.”

It was only for a tiny moment—so fast that Lauren almost missed it, even with her mental antennae up.  Longing.  And then the weird emptiness of mind barriers slammed shut.

Lizard wanted a baby? 

No, not exactly…  Lauren grabbed for the fleeting emotion she’d picked up, trying to bring it into focus.  Lizard wanted a family.

Lauren watched as the odd duo of pregnant client and tattooed fairy made their way out the door.  And hoped Lizard realized she was already well on her way to having one.

~ ~ ~

Nat felt a presence intrude on her solitude just as her pendant began to vibrate.  She tensed, not ready for the interruption—and then realized who had come to visit.

Letting out a last breath, she opened her eyes.  “Did my husband send you?”

“He did, yes.”  Melvin smiled from his chair, facing out over the vista of San Francisco and the ocean beyond.  “Used that magic phone of his to save me quite the hike to find you.  The air smells lovely up here.”

Nat smiled and kept her words gentle.  “I find that a bit of a trek discourages most visitors.”

“Would you rather be alone?”  His eyes held a world of kindness.

“I thought so.”  She reached out to touch his hand.  “But you’ve brought comfort, haven’t you?”

“Perhaps.”  He smiled.  “I feel the sun on my face, and I can sense just the barest tang of sea air.  The perfect retreat.”  He ran a hand down the smooth fall of her hair.  “A good place to put doubts to rest, I hope.”

Nat sighed, well aware that had been the purpose of her hike.  So far, she’d made very little progress. The look on Elsie’s face haunted her dreams—and her solitary hikes.  “I never send people away.  Yoga is invitation, and there’s always some way to meet people where they are.”