A Witchly Influence

by Stephanie Grey

  “Don’t you want to be able to live in a nicer apartment without a roommate? To be able to pay all of your bills and still have some extra to put into a savings account? To not have to ask your dad for help?”

  Finn’s eyes flashed and I knew I had gone too far. “I don’t have to ask for help.”

  I took a deep breath and pushed onward. “I know you’re going hungry when you can’t afford to eat. You might not ask for help anymore, but you’re still going without.”

  Finn jumped up from his chair so quickly it almost fell over. “I don’t have a fancy job like you that allows me to have a fancy house. I didn’t go to school.”

  “Whose fault is that?”

  He turned away from me and I saw his shoulders slump. “It’s mine.”

  I was quiet for a few moments, thinking. Finally, I said, “Finn, what if you moved into my house? There’s a room downstairs with a full bath. It would be your own space and you could stay until you’ve saved up enough money to really get you going and you can do something better.”

  “Would I even get the wet bar in the family room?” he asked, his voice small.

  “What? No way, we have to share that. That’s a family room. You can’t just take over the bar.” I was grinning.

  Finn tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose I will think about it.”

  “You do that.” I gestured toward the door. “We better get back inside. We can’t let everyone else suffer in Cecily’s presence. It’s Christmas, you know. She’s like the gift no one wanted.”

  You’ve lost your damn mind!” Simon’s voice was so high, he was practically squeaking. He paced the length of his office, taking brief moments to glance at his collection of antique fishing hooks hanging from the wall. He finally stopped and sat down heavily in his high-back pleather office chair.

  I stared at him, surprised. He had called earlier that day and demanded I get to the office immediately. I remained silent in my chair.

  Simon sighed and steepled his hands on top of his large desk. His voice lower, he said, “I just cannot have you risking Finn living with you.”

  “He’s my brother. He needs my help,” I replied simply.

  Simon vigorously shook his head, his jowls swiveling with the movement. “No, he’s your stepbrother and he does not need to live with you. You know he can see magic and you know mortal family members outside of spouses are not allowed to know about us.”

  “If we can tattoo mortals to see magic more clearly, is there not one they can get so that they won’t?” I asked timidly. Simon was usually a happy man, but he was absolutely furious with me at the moment.

  “No, there isn’t a tattoo! That’s why there are Erasers! Which you might as well invite them to live with you as well because you’re going to need one on a daily basis!” He flattened his palms against his walnut desk. “You will rescind your offer.” He spread his palms over the desk, then back together. “You will apologize and tell him that you’re just not ready to live with someone again after your divorce.” He repeated his hand movement. “That’s final.”

  I sat rigid in my seat, my own anger beginning to churn hotly. “It’s my gut feeling that he needs to get out of the environment he’s currently in. I’m an Influencer for a reason and this is what I think needs to be done. He needs someone to support him, to be there for him. That someone is me. You’ve got to trust me on this,” I said, trying to keep my anger from boiling over.

  Simon caught my gaze and watched me, unblinking, for several moments. He relaxed and sighed, this time in defeat. “You’re stubborn.”

  “It is my house,” I pointed out.

  “That Eraser did like your cooking. I suppose you could get the same one to return who won’t cause such a fuss if you need him to.” Simon tilted his head thoughtfully. “No magic in the house.”

  “No magic when he’s around,” I argued.

  My boss nodded. “This isn’t a long-term situation, is it?”

  I drummed my fingers impatiently on the armrest. “I don’t know what his alternate path is, so I don’t know. What will happen to him if he continues down his current path?” I asked curiously.

  “Nothing,” Simon answered simply.

  “What do you mean nothing?”

  “I mean nothing. He’ll get up, go to work, and repeat the process.”

  “That’s not bad. A lot of people follow that pattern.”

  Simon narrowed his eyes. “He’ll work at his job where he will never advance and he’ll never feel good enough to try. He’ll date women from time to time, but they’ll be nobodies, just people to warm his bed. The worst one will appeal to his softer side and be a worthless piece of crap who refuses to work but says she needs the money to stay at home with her kids while her estranged husband works. That’s right, she’ll still be married but will claim she’s getting a divorce.” Simon shook his head. “She’s not getting a divorce. She’ll just continue to accept Finn’s help because he has a good heart and he genuinely believes he’s doing the right thing. She’ll break his heart and he’ll become bitter, never have a meaningful relationship, and die an unhappy man.”

  “Oh,” was all that I could muster.

  “You’re going to ask me about Abby, but I can’t tell you that.”

  “Is it worse than Finn?”

  “No.”

  “Then why won’t you tell me?”

  “Because I don’t know,” Simon replied sheepishly.

  There was a hard, fast knock on the door and Simon called for the visitor to enter. My android joined us by taking a seat in the chair next to mine. “Sir?” she said and I shuddered internally. It was eerie watching and hearing myself.

  “What do you need, Carmen?” Simon asked, tired.

  “I seem to be malfunctioning.”

  Simon jumped to his feet and rushed over to the android. “What’s the problem? I’ll call Samuel right away.”

  Android Carmen shook her head sadly, the ends of her pale blonde hair brushing against her collarbone with the motion. “I was asked a question today and I didn’t understand it.”

  I chuckled. “That’s not a malfunction.”

  “It is when you’re a perfect android,” Android Carmen snapped.

  “What were you asked?” Simon asked.

  “I was asked, ‘Why did the chicken cross the road?’ I don’t understand this. Why would a chicken cross the road? What business does the fowl have in doing this? Surely there’s chicken wire to keep it enclosed in its pen?”

  Simon and I exchanged glances and I rose to my feet. I patted him on the shoulder. “You have fun with this,” I said, trying to contain my giggle.

  “You’re not going to help with this?”

  “I would, but it’s funnier for me if I leave you to it.” I smiled brightly and slowly faded away as Simon stood in front of me, his mouth open in frustration.

  Abby ran her hands over the carvings on the bar as she looked in awe at the room around her. “I cannot believe you have a real bar in here!” she exclaimed. “I want one of these!”

  I had invited Abby to my home to hang out for a little while before Percy picked us up in an hour to look at houses for her. “I didn’t want this. It was just a bonus, really.”

  “What a nice bonus to have! I love this house. It’s very charming.”

  “Thank you,” I said warmly.

  She paused outside of Finn’s room. He hadn’t moved in yet, but we had plans to do that over the weekend. “Kind of bare in here, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” I agreed.

  “Everything else is classic but it looks like you forgot your guest room. Or were you going to use this for storage because you have another guest room upstairs?”

  I shook my head. “I did have it decorated, but my stepbrother is moving in with me. I want him to make it his own.”

  Abby’s face darkened. “You’re letting your stepbrother move in? Why? I thought you liked living alone.”

  I frowned, not understanding w
hy Abby was upset. “I think he’s not in the best place right now and I offered him my place until he found something better down the road.” I was talking about his place in life, but Abby misinterpreted my words.

  “Ah,” she said and ascended the stairs that led to my kitchen. She ignored my bar stools and leaned over the counter, shuffling her paperwork. She had made an Excel form with her salary, current expenses, and how much she had leftover each month. “There’s no way I could afford a house like this on my teacher’s salary,” she said, bitter.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “What’s with the attitude?”

  She rubbed her temples. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, looking at the countertop.

  I softened my tone. “Seriously? What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m just in a mood. I don’t need a house this size. I just need something small and that I can call my own so I’m not wasting money on rent anymore.” She still wouldn’t look at me.

  “Who put you in a mood?” I asked, knowing the answer as I spoke.

  “It’s Lauren Lennox.” She spat the name. “She heard I was house-hunting and told me I might as well live in a studio apartment because I was going to remain alone.”

  “Don’t let that bitch get you down,” I said sternly. “People like that are just miserable and they make fun of others so they can feel better about themselves.”

  “Classic bully tactics, I know. I hear about this at the assembly we have once a year.”

  “You could always tell her to fuck off,” I offered.

  Abby inhaled sharply. “I could never do that. I don’t have that in me.”

  “Sure you do. You just need to be more confident. We’ve talked about this. Confidence isn’t just sexy. It’s a necessity for getting what you want out of life, or at least trying.”

  “I’ll work on it,” she said. She scanned her finger down her list of expenses. “I wish I could get rid of this one. It costs me over a hundred dollars a month just to color my hair.”

  “Stop coloring your hair.” I flashed a smile. “See? One problem solved already.”

  Abby’s lips pursed briefly as she tried to hide her grin. “I wish I could. I want it back to my natural hair color, but I don’t know if the stylist can’t figure out how to do that or if she doesn’t want to because I’m income to her.” She eyed my pale blonde hair. “Do you color yours?”

  “No, I never have. Any other color would just seem odd with my skin tone.”

  “You are basically translucent. If I hadn’t seen you out in the sun, I would have thought you were a vampire.”

  “How original,” I said drily.

  “I know, sorry.” She laughed. “I remember you telling me about the kids picking on you.”

  “I’m pretty good with hair color. I could dye it for you if you’d like.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  I nodded. “Of course. Listen, I dyed a friend’s hair recently and I still have a bunch of different brown shades. I’m sure I could mix them to match to your roots.” As I spoke, I wiggled my fingers so that an assortment of hair coloring mixture appeared underneath my bathroom sink.

  “Do we have time?” Abby asked, looking at the clock.

  “We have almost an hour. I’m really good at this.” A pang of guilt hit me. I hated how easy it was becoming to lie and any woman could tell you it takes more than an hour to change the color of your hair.

  Abby took a seat on my vanity chair and I draped a towel around her shoulders. “All over color, please,” she said. “My eyebrows might help if the roots aren’t long enough.”

  “Sure,” I murmured. I grabbed two random bottles and told her I would mix it in a bowl from the kitchen. I pulled a plastic bowl from a cabinet and held my hand over it. I gripped the air as if one of the bottles was being held and tilted my hand. A perfect mixture flowed from the empty space in my grip and into the bowl. I snapped my fingers and a brush materialized.

  “Have you ever noticed how the solution looks like it is purple?” Abby asked when I had returned. She peered into the bowl. “Except for yours.”

  “I think it’s a difference in brands,” I said hastily. I put rubber gloves over my hands and proceeded to paint her hair in sections.

  “What about a dryer?”

  “Have you ever been to an Aveda salon?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “You should. They’re the best! They offer a neck and shoulder massage while your hair is in a masque. That’s all complementary. Anyway, they use natural products and they don’t need a dryer to let the product set.”

  “I don’t think we have one of those here,” Abby said gloomily.

  “No, but maybe one day,” I said hopefully.

  I finished covering Abby’s hair in color and waved my hands over it, trying to be as casual as possible. I wanted to ensure it wouldn’t fade over time and she’d never have roots again until she chose to visit another salon and color it a different shade.

  “That was fast,” Abby said forty-five minutes later. “We’re kind of cutting it close, aren’t we?”

  “Percy can wait a minute if we need him to,” I shouted over the sound of the hairdryer. Once completed, I put a dab of Moroccan oil into my hands to smooth her hair.

  I finished styling her hair and handed her a mirror so that she could see the back. “I cannot believe how good this looks! It looks like I’ve never colored my hair in my life.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” I said, throwing the towel I had used into my hamper.

  The doorbell rang. “Right on cue,” Abby murmured, still looking at herself.

  I opened the front door, Abby padding down the hallway behind me.

  “Hello, ladies,” Percy said. He straightened his dove gray suit jacket. “Are you ready to find your new home?”

  A month later I found myself grilling chicken in the frigid cold that threatened snow. Say what you want about a famous former boxer’s indoor grill, but few things beat the taste that charcoal creates.

  Finn had moved in and I was surprised at how well we got along as roommates. Admittedly it was a harder transition than I had expected to not use magic as often at home and Tess had pouted that she couldn’t just pop in anymore, but things were working out smoothly. He was taking weekly guitar lessons and, thanks to Siobhan, was picking it up quickly and his interest wasn’t waning. His instructor had said that he absorbed in a month what it had taken other students six months to grasp.

  I had learned quickly that he seemed to spend the majority of his paycheck at local bars and I had to have a serious conversation with him. I had explained that I had offered my home to him so that he could save money and, hopefully, find something more fruitful to sustain him. I didn’t mean for him to move in and decide that he’d only have enough money to pay the rent we had agreed upon. He had balked initially, claiming that he was a “grown-ass man” and could spend his money as he pleased. I told him that, at his rate, he’d wind up in a broken-down, rusty single-wide trailer, with an equally crappy car that wouldn’t start most days to take him to his lousy job. I knew I was being extremely harsh, but he needed to hear it. He had been so angry with me that he had stormed out of the house.

  When he returned, he apologized and said that no one had ever been so blunt with him. “I guess I needed a figurative foot up my ass,” he said quietly.

  Abby had since found a home and it was going to close soon. Her landlord was giving her a little trouble over having to find someone to move in during the middle of winter and she had almost agreed to stay longer. I told her that the occupancy of the apartment wasn’t her problem and she didn’t need to feel guilty for wanting to do something great for herself. The house was roughly one hundred years old and needed some work, which I had promptly promised to help her with.

  I flipped the chicken and closed the hood of the grill. I paced and stamped my feet to keep warm and noticed the churning of snow nearby. Worried, I glanced toward the back door leading to the kitchen.<
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  “Don’t worry, he can’t see me,” Lenny said dismissively.

  “He can see snowmen,” I argued.

  Lenny rolled his button eyes. “I know that. I meant he can’t see me from this angle.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Really!” Lenny had upgraded his arms and these were able to bend. They were currently placed on his hips.

  “Is there something you wanted to tell me or did you just show up because you forgot to record the latest reality show?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Carmen. I don’t watch all of them. I do have standards, you know. Watching bachelors and their damn roses got old.”

  “Sorry if I offended you,” I said insincerely.

  Lenny sniffed, not noticing my tone. “It’s okay.”

  I lifted the lid and checked on my chicken. It was close to being finished.

  “That smells wonderful,” Lenny said, leaning forward. The wave of heat hit him as I closed the lid and he shuddered. “Watch it!” he snapped. “I’m stuck to ice cream, milkshakes, shaved ice, and smoothies. Anything cold or frozen.”

  “I can’t imagine why.”

  Lenny’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a snowman joke?”

  “Of course not,” I said quickly.

  “Listen, the reason I’m here is to let you know that you’re on the right track.”

  “Really? I feel like Finn is doing better, but what about Abby? Nothing has changed except for the house she bought.”

  “The house is what sparks the real change,” Lenny said mysteriously.

  “She’s going to become a house flipper?”

  Lenny snickered. “No.”

  I was growing impatient. “Listen, I’m getting really tired of this cryptic crap. You have to give me something else here.” An idea popped into my head. “Is this about Lauren Lennox? She’s a bully that’s on Abby’s case a lot. Abby’s been doing better about sticking up for herself, though it’s a slow process and only when I’m near.”

  He threw his stick arms in the air. “She’s meant to buy something else. Before you go running that mouth, I can’t tell you what. I’m sorry, but that is the best that I can do for you right now.”