A Witchly Influence

by Stephanie Grey

  I shook my head. “No way. I’d make a horrible speaker. I’d want to talk about real issues.”

  Abby frowned, her brows narrowing. “What’s more real than talking about not doing drugs or drinking?”

  “I’d separate the boys from the girls. I’d tell the girls to not be skanks and I’d teach the boys to be able to tell the difference between who you take home to mom and who you don’t, and those are the girls you don’t even want to date.”

  A huge guffaw escaped Abby and she quickly clasped her hand over her mouth. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all week! That would be more practical, but I don’t think the principal would go for it. You’d be better off scattering pamphlets on the ground and hope the kids picked them up.”

  “I guess my career in that field ended before it even began.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “How disappointing,” I said sarcastically.

  “How long do you think you’re going to stay in town?” Abby asked, serious.

  “I just bought a house over on Elm Street.”

  “Haven’t had any nightmares yet, have you?”

  I laughed. “That’s punny of you.” I uncrossed my arms. “No, it seems to be working out so far. I haven’t met my neighbors, but I’m sure I’ll get around to it soon enough. My mother is just upset that I didn’t buy a house next door to her.”

  Abby groaned. “I live in an apartment a few streets over from where my parents live. Now that can be a real nightmare.” She made her voice shrill. “‘Abby, why don’t you come over and help me with the yard? Why don’t you come over and paint that wall for me? Abby, you don’t have a social life, so spend all of your time doing projects for me.’”

  “Your mom sounds like a special kind of lady.”

  She shook her head. “I love her, but she drives me crazy sometimes. I need to buy a house on the other side of town and maybe she won’t bother me so much. I think she drives by my complex to see if my car is there and that’s how she ropes me in. She sees that I’m home and am not doing anything better.”

  “Why don’t you buy a house, then?” I asked.

  The corners of Abby’s mouth lifted a little. “I’d like to, but I don’t think I can afford it.”

  “Why don’t you find out? Think about how much money you spend on rent each month. Surely that money could be put to better use going toward a mortgage payment, something you can own yourself.” I had finished my latte finally and gently tapped the table. The cup refilled with peppermint mocha. I tasted it and frowned. It didn’t even come close to what the barista had created for Abby. I tapped the table again and the cup emptied.

  Abby hesitated, unsure.

  “I could help you,” I offered. “I bought my townhouse in South Bend and then this house here. If you decide to move out of your apartment, that is.”

  “Maybe,” Abby said, her voice trailing off.

  I looked out the window and noticed it was dark outside. It rarely snowed in North Carolina, but it did get cold and I shuddered. “I guess it’s time to go and face the outdoors.”

  She nodded. “This was fun. We should do this again. You could come with me to try out the cardio kickboxing class. We could go next week.”

  “That sounds great,” I said, scribbling my number on a napkin for her. “Just give me a call.”

  Abby stuffed the napkin into her bag and we left, parting ways in the parking lot.

  “Lenny!” I shouted. I was standing outside in my new backyard.

  The snowman appeared, his body not as dense this time when he had to create his own snow. “What? I was at home watching my stories,” he complained.

  “Lenny, what in the hell am I doing? Abby’s a nice woman and I can see us being good friends, but how does that Influence? I can’t be friends with every person I’m meant to change.”

  Lenny’s button mouth became a straight line as he fought off a snide remark. “You won’t be friends with all of them. This one, though, you need to be her friend.”

  “She does seem to need someone.”

  “You’ll help her. You’re doing great. Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Lenny said reassuringly.

  “Are you just saying that because you mean it or are you saying that because you want to go home and watch Real Housewives?”

  The snowman waved his stick arms up and down. “I like those shows! I got a thing for the guy that hosts the reunions. He’s got great hair,” he said defensively.

  “I think he’s taken, Lenny,” I said.

  He bobbed up and down. “A snowman can dream! Do I show up and poke holes into your fantasies? No, I don’t.” He tried to cross his arms, but the sticks wouldn’t bend.

  “Sorry,” I apologized.

  “It’s not sincere, but I’ll take it. Is that all you wanted? Look, if you’re going to doubt yourself every step of the way, then just start sending emails. I’m not interesting in hearing you whine.”

  “I wasn’t whining,” I protested.

  “Lenny, I’m new to the job and unsure of myself. Fate wouldn’t have any clue what they were doing choosing me to Influence, so I’m going to question what’s happening,” he said, pitching his voice high, trying to mimic me.

  “You know they’re canceling the Atlanta edition of Housewives, right?”

  The snowman’s button eyes grew bigger. “They are not!” He looked frantically toward the ground, his stick arms quivering. “I need to get home and check! Remember, email if you’re just going to whine!” With a poof, he was gone.

  Feeling a little better, I went inside to my kitchen. There was a fire crackling in the living room and my house felt warm and inviting. I turned on the stereo and Christmas music began to softly play. I hadn’t put up a tree yet, which was a tradition I preferred to do by hand rather than by magic. This was my first home that I purchased by myself in years and it felt great wandering from room to room, knowing I was by myself and my options were endless. I wasn’t ready to date again, but it was nice living for just myself and not having to worry about taking care of anyone else.

  I whipped up tortellini with Alfredo sauce, ate happily and, too lazy to do the dishes myself, snapped my fingers and they began to clean themselves. “You can go back into the cabinet when you’re dry,” I told them.

  I showered and crawled into bed. The heavy comforter was soft and I motioned for more pillows to pile up behind my back so that I could sit up without slouching. I pulled a notebook out of my nightstand and began to write down the possibilities for Abby’s future. She was a teacher who wanted to fit in yet also wanted her own identity. What was she destined to do with her life? I sighed with frustration and turned the page.

  I wrote Finn’s name at the top. I loved my stepbrother and we got along well, but we had never been close. He worked for a small, local contractor doing honey-do work around town and duck hunted when it was in season. I usually bought him something hunting related during this time of year and he always loved it. The more duck calls, the better. When he couldn’t hunt, he liked going to bars with his friends and drinking beer. I frowned. He did that a lot, actually. He used to waste entire paychecks at the bar until Lewis and my mother stopped loaning him money. He had a roommate at a place where rent was really cheap and I always thought he could do more with his life if he had a better role model.

  My head shot up and I stared at the wall. Me. I was going to be that role model. But how could I make him want to change his direction and go on the path he was meant to take? How would I even know which path he or Abby should take? I sighed again and slouched down against my pillows. I’d figure it out. I had to.

  Twinkling white lights floated in the air, their reflections gleaming and shining brightly off the fake snow Tess had created in my backyard. She wanted to add the lights to the inside of the home, but I had told her it would be a bit too much. “Lights are romantic. I’m trying to set a mood,” she said.

  “It’s a housewarming party around Christmastime. It would be inapp
ropriate to be romantic.”

  “Give the woman a break. She lives in Paris. The City of Love,” Enid chimed in.

  “Thank you,” Tess said gratefully.

  “You’re welcome. We all know a shriveled up snail would turn you on at this point, you frog transplant.” Enid playfully stuck out her tongue at Tess.

  Tess’s mouth opened into an O shape. Her jaw tensed and relaxed for a minute while she tried to retort with something clever. She wound up shaking her head and walking into the kitchen to help Siobhan with the food and drinks.

  “She used to be better than that,” Enid said, dejected. “It takes all of the fun out of teasing her if she won’t fire back.”

  “I think she gets a little sensitive when you talk about her home like that. She really likes it over there.”

  “She doesn’t like her job,” Enid said.

  I shrugged. “That’s her own fault. It’s a fashion capital. It’s not like she can’t move on to another store or work for a designer directly.” I lowered my voice. “It’s not like she couldn’t give herself a magical edge.”

  Enid pretended to be shocked. “Are you saying she should break the rules?”

  “I’m saying she could make it so that her resume continues to creep to the top of application piles and stay there so that the hiring manager keeps seeing it. That’s not breaking any rule.” As a witch or wizard, we weren’t supposed to interfere with the natural order of things like applying for a job. It wouldn’t be fair to the mortals if we always gave ourselves first dibs. The Council had made it clear we were to remain honest. Sometimes honesty sucked.

  “I do like how you decorated for the holiday,” Enid said, admiring the tree and other decorations. “It’s very…” her voice trailed off.

  “It looks like a department store threw up in my house,” I finished for her.

  “I wasn’t going to say that. I was trying to be nice.”

  Siobhan and Tess joined us in the living room. “Tess, I think it looks beautiful. We should all be so lucky to have your taste,” Siobhan said admirably.

  “Suck up,” Enid and I said in unison.

  Tess blushed. “Thank you.” She glanced around the room. “I might have gone a little bit overboard, but this is Carmen’s new house for her new life and I wanted this celebration to be special.”

  “Speaking of which, we got some help to serve the hors d’oeuvres and drinks tonight,” Enid said. She whistled and in marched several gnomes, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

  Enid bent down so that she was on their level. To the gnomes in the green pointy hats, she said, “I’ve got several trays in the kitchen. Just pick them up and ask the guests if they’d like anything from the tray. When the tray is empty, just take it back to the kitchen and put it on top of the stove. They’ll refill themselves.” She turned to the gnomes in red hats. “You’ll do the same, but just put the tray next to the fridge and they’ll refill with drinks. Everyone got that? Come get me if you need anything and you’re welcome to anything you want.”

  The gnomes rocked excitedly back and forth in their black boots and nodded. “Yes!” they yelled in unison. The tallest gnome at two and half feet motioned toward the kitchen. “Let’s get to work!” We watched them march single file into the kitchen.

  “Are those my neighbor’s garden gnomes?” I asked, suddenly realizing why they looked familiar.

  “What? Of course not. I brought my own,” Enid said indignantly.

  I was quiet.

  “Yes, yes those would be your neighbor’s garden gnomes,” Siobhan admitted. I looked at her and Enid, my brows knitted. “She’ll never suspect that they’re gone.”

  “You even changed their outfits,” I accused.

  Siobhan put her hands on her hips. “They looked ridiculous in those outfits she had them wearing. Besides, they needed uniforms for the party. I’ll change them back before the morning.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We didn’t even take all of them from her yard. She won’t notice anything missing,” Enid said, trying to reassure me.

  “You have ten gnomes in my house.”

  Enid’s eyes widened. “Is that how many there are? I never bothered to count.” She looked at Siobhan. “We just took ten gnomes and Carmen’s neighbor still has several more. I think our friend moved next to a nut.”

  “She’s not a nut. She’s eccentric,” I said, defending Mrs. Crouch.

  “Is she rich?” Enid asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess,” I answered. “She had a lot of clocks on her wall when she invited me over for tea and cookies. She said that she liked to watch time move from every angle.”

  “You’re right. She’s eccentric,” Enid said.

  “She’s right. If she wasn’t rich, then she’d be a nut.” Siobhan shrugged. “That’s how the world works when it comes to its crazy people.”

  “You know my family is coming to this party and they’re going to ask about the gnomes,” I pointed out.

  “No, they won’t. They’re just going to see little people as our caterers,” Siobhan said smoothly. “Unless they can recognize magic. Your family can’t, can they?” She was starting to get worried.

  I thought of all of the things my mother had done without Lewis noticing. “We’ll be fine.”

  “I heard you went on a date with Carmen’s realtor,” Enid said slyly to Siobhan. “How did that go?”

  Siobhan grinned mischievously. “We had a nice time,” she answered simply. She lowered herself onto my loveseat and crossed her legs.

  Tess paused from fluffing one of the pillows on the couch and studied Siobhan. “You like the guy,” she blurted. “You genuinely like him.”

  “How can you like a guy with a name like Percy?” Enid asked. She looked at me. “Didn’t you say he’s a bit sexist?”

  “He’s not sexist,” Siobhan interjected. “He’s old-fashioned. He opened doors for me, he didn’t try to split the bill, and he didn’t expect anything from me when he brought me back here.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t go ahead and put out. That’s your status quo,” Enid said.

  I shot her a nasty glance. She was going a little too far.

  “Knock it off, Enid,” Tess warned.

  “We all know that Siobhan is the slutty one of the group,” Enid said, her voice rising.

  Siobhan cleared her throat. “Ahem,” she said. “Every group has that one slutty friend and, Enid, I suppose you’re right that it is me.”

  Enid nodded in agreement.

  “But that’s only because I’ve got you beat by one,” Siobhan added.

  Tess and I exchanged glances, remaining silent.

  Enid glared at Siobhan before she burst into laughter. “You’re right. It is just by one.”

  I let out a breath of air that I didn’t realize I had been holding. Siobhan and Enid were dear friends, but sometimes Enid was known to cross the line.

  “Are you going to see him again?” Enid asked, her tone lighter.

  “I might. He knows that I live in Nashville and wouldn’t be able to visit him often.” She nodded in my direction. “But who knows? I might find myself moving here to be closer to my friend. Maybe I could be the neighbor on the other side and have garden gnomes of my own. What do you think, Carmen?”

  I shook my head. “You shouldn’t have to ask. I wouldn’t change my life for a man unless I was absolutely sure it was going somewhere. Even then I’d be hesitant.”

  “Oh, you’re just sour grapes after your divorce. Why am I asking you anyway?” Siobhan said bitterly. She pouted.

  “Because you love me and you value my opinion,” I answered sweetly.

  “Narcissist,” she retorted, tossing a pillow across the room at me.

  “Hey! I just arranged those,” Tess said, snatching the pillow and putting it back into its place. “Go get changed,” she ordered. “We have a party to throw.” She looked pointedly at Siobhan. “And change the text on that chair. ‘Hail to the V’ is not approp
riate for guests.”

  Siobhan smiled wickedly and the text glittered before being replaced.

  Tess frowned. “You can’t put curse words on Carmen’s furniture.”

  The text glittered again, this time reading, “Tess is the best.”

  “That’ll do,” Tess said, smiling.

  Within an hour, my new home was bustling with people. Siobhan had borrowed another gnome from my neighbor and made him the bartender for the bar downstairs. She sheepishly apologized, promising she wouldn’t take anymore from Mrs. Crouch’s yard.

  I wandered through the crowd, happily chatting with old friends that I hadn’t seen in a while and catching up. One had a cat on a leash, claiming it was his emotional support animal.

  “You needed an emotional support animal?” I asked, doubtful.

  My friend looked around and whispered, “No, but Mr. Pickles is a real ice breaker with the ladies.”

  “Good for you,” I said before excusing myself. The doorbell was ringing and I answered it, finding my mother and stepfamily. “Welcome to the party!” I greeted warmly.

  Mom stepped inside first, Lewis following closely behind her. “This is some turnout you have!” she said. “It’s almost as big as the party you had in high school.”

  “You knew about that?”

  She raised a brow.

  “Of course you knew about it.”

  “Not much gets past her,” Lewis said proudly. He leaned in and lowered his voice so that only I could hear him. “Except for how much I really spent on my new sports car.”

  I laughed, watching my mother shaking her head behind him. She mouthed the words, “I do know.”

  Cecily Cleary shoved a stroller through the door. “You could have made this baby accessible,” she snapped. “It’s hard enough getting around while being pregnant.”

  My stepbrother, Randy, gently patted her arm. “Honey, you’re only three months along. It’s not that bad, yet.” He looked at me apologetically. “I’m sure Carmen didn’t expect us to bring Apple. Otherwise, she would have gotten a ramp.”

  Cecily sniffed and flipped back her long, dark hair. “Can you do something about this music? It’s too loud. And the lights outside, I get what you’re going for, but they’re too bright. I need to put Apple down for bed soon.” She pushed the stroller past us and into the kitchen.