by Paul Ruditis
Phoebe didn’t like where this conversation was going. “Seven in the past week? Okay, you’ve got my attention.”
“Now do you get why I’m freaking?”
“Not entirely,” Phoebe said. Mika was reacting to the publicity implications, but Phoebe was more concerned about the larger ramifications. Seven couples that she brought together all breaking up in the same week was too big of a coincidence. Something else could be at play beyond simple relationship issues. Something with more of a magical motivation. That made things considerably harder for Phoebe to ignore.
Phoebe reached out to the magic of the universe to see if she could force a premonition revealing any magical explanation for what was going on. Usually when she did this she needed to be near an object or a person to channel the power. Even then it was still hit or miss.
This time was a miss.
“Phoebe? Are you there?”
“Sorry, you dropped out for a moment.” Phoebe lied through the cell phone. “I’m back now.” She nodded to Paige as her sister passed holding a potion bottle with purple liquid inside. Paige smiled as she nodded to the potion. It wouldn’t be long before they could have the congressman out of their lives forever.
“Where are you?” Mika asked, pulling Phoebe back into the conversation again.
“At my sister’s.” Phoebe had no intention of telling her which sister. It would be a little hard to explain since Mika believed Prue was dead. She would also find it hard to believe that, even though they’d had a conversation barely an hour ago, Phoebe was no longer in San Francisco. Or the United States.
“Jal said you took the girls to the doctor?”
“The one with an office by my sister’s place.” Phoebe needed to better organize her lies. After all these years, it was a skill she should have perfected by now. “Text me the contact info for one of the couples. Time for me to do some investigative journalism.”
“You’re taking this seriously now?” Mika asked.
“I’m taking this very seriously.” It was doubtful that Phoebe would be able to use whatever she discovered for her column, but she had to do something with the information. Five couples were hard enough to dismiss considering her history. But seven in one week was just too much for her to brush off.
Phoebe ended the call and returned to the living room where her sisters and the guys huddled around the congressman. “I’m going to have to unfreeze him to get him to drink the potion, aren’t I?” Piper asked.
“We could pour it over his head, but it won’t work very well that way,” Paige replied.
“Maybe you could tip his head back and just spill it down his throat?” Phoebe suggested. “Or… there are other ways to give medicine to reluctant patients.”
“Let’s not go there,” Prue replied with a nod toward Phoebe’s phone. “Everything okay on your end?”
Phoebe grabbed one last slice of the cooling pizza while she filled them in on her work situation. They were all in agreement that something magical was likely at play. Phoebe could hardly remember a time when mysteries like that could be easily chalked up to odd coincidences and not something with ulterior motives that needed to be investigated. This was the life of a Charmed One.
“It’s probably nothing,” Phoebe said as she munched on the crust. “But I’ve got to check it out. Are you all okay without me here?”
Prue took the potion bottle from Paige. “We’ll be fine.”
“I’ll call you if we find out anything else,” Piper added.
Paige placed a hand on Phoebe’s arm. “Need me to orb you somewhere?”
Phoebe shook her off as she started back to the next room. “That’s okay. I can arrange my own transport. Enjoy the pizza!”
Phoebe waited until she had a room between herself and the others before she took a deep breath and prepared to call her husband. “C—”
“You know you don’t have to hide him from me.” Cole’s voice came from behind her. Dead or alive, he was particularly skilled at that sneaking-up-on-people thing. “I like Coop. He’s a good guy.”
Phoebe shrugged. “I just didn’t want him to get distracted by the pizza. Then we’d never get out of here. The man does love his pizza.”
“Oh, well then. If that’s all,” Cole said.
Phoebe tilted her head. “What else would it be?”
“I just want to make sure we’re okay.”
“We’re fine,” Phoebe said. “Except that we seem to have some version of this conversation every time we get together. To be perfectly honest, I’m getting a little tired of it.”
“I didn’t ask to come back into your life,” Cole said. “I just want to make sure I’m not interfering with anything. I’m trying to be the good guy here.”
Phoebe sighed. “Stop trying. Just be good. The rest will come naturally. Now, if you don’t mind?”
Cole leaned against the doorframe and waved a hand her way. “Go right ahead. I’d love to say hi to Coop.”
Phoebe sighed again and called out into the air: “Coop!”
Her husband beamed in a moment later. Phoebe was relieved that he hadn’t been in the middle of something. It would have been awkward if she’d had to wait for him to appear. She quickly gave him a big hug. “Hi, honey!”
“Hey there,” Coop said as he returned the embrace. “I thought you were at work. I assume since we’re at Prue’s something magical is going on that needs our intervention?”
“Hello, Coop,” Cole said from behind them, holding out a hand.
Coop released his wife and took Cole’s hand. “Cole! Good to see you.” There was no suspicion in his tone. No question of why his wife’s ex was there. This was no surprise to Phoebe. Her husband knew Cole was back in her life. He trusted her.
No. All Phoebe’s issues with this situation were entirely her own. “A couple of magical things, actually,” Phoebe said, moving the subject beyond her own insecurities. “One of them I might need your help on.”
“It’s right up your alley,” Cole added with a smirk. “Phoebe seems to be all out of love.”
“Are your readers so lost without you?” Coop asked, playing along.
“Great. Just what I need: dated musical references from my childhood.”
“That’s what happens when you pick guys who lived at least a century before you were born,” Coop said.
“She does have a type, doesn’t she?” Cole added.
Phoebe shook her head. Things were so much easier when she only had one of these guys in her life at a time. She was beginning to dread the possibility that they could become friends. “Okay. This has been fun. But we’ve got to get moving. Say goodbye, Coop.”
Her husband’s smile widened. “Goodbye, Coop.”
“Our names are pretty similar too,” Cole said in response.
Phoebe let out an exasperated grunt as she grabbed her husband, roughly, by the arm. “Time to go.”
Coop gave a little salute to Cole before he and Phoebe beamed away from the Nexus.
Chapter 5
Having a husband that could beam around town was convenient, especially in San Francisco with its notoriously parking-challenged neighborhoods. Phoebe and Coop materialized behind a tree on a street where they would have spent a fair amount of time searching for a spot if they’d taken a more traditional mode of transportation.
The first couple on Mika’s list lived in Bernal Heights, where houses were stacked like dominoes on some of the steepest hills in the city. Phoebe did not envy the movers with their truck parked at the foot of the long wooden staircase that went up to the first address on her list. The moving truck was facing down the sloping hill, presenting a difficult challenge for the vehicle’s parking brake. It was going to be hard for the movers to stabilize the furniture in there.
The truck itself was a good sign. It would be hard to organize a mo
ve like this in just a week. If Phoebe had learned anything from the letters she got from her readers going through a divorce, deciding who got what furniture, knickknacks, and unlikely family heirlooms often took weeks of legal negotiations. Maybe this particular breakdown of a marriage had been in the planning stages for a while.
Much as she hated to admit it, Phoebe hoped that the Jordans had been having issues for a long time and it was only coincidence that they began divorce proceedings this week. That was the kind of problem an advice columnist could address. Other concerns might require a witch with an assist from a Cupid.
Phoebe and Coop waited as a pair of movers carried a love seat down the long wooden staircase. This was another bonus to having magical family members. When Phoebe had moved out of the Manor, her larger items went in the blink of an orb. It saved on moving fees and a fair amount of wear and tear. She felt bad for these movers as they strained to go down the long staircase and hoped that they were being well compensated for their effort.
Once the love seat was clear, Phoebe took Coop by the arm and led him up the path the furniture had just taken down. A woman’s voice carried out the open door so that they heard her from halfway down the long staircase. “Unbelievable! I told you I wanted the candlesticks. Why aren’t they on the mantle like they’ve been since we moved into this stupid house at the top of the world?”
Phoebe could feel the hate manifesting from the woman before they even reached the door. She didn’t need to rely on her empathic powers to tell her how the screaming woman felt. She could read the mood in her tone. But Phoebe didn’t have any choice. She felt something far more intense than simple anger inside the house. As they approached the front door it only intensified.
“This must be the place.” Phoebe knocked on the doorframe as she tried to push back the negative feelings that were assaulting her. “Helllloooo? Anybody home?”
Coop looked at his wife. “Anybody home? Is that even a question with that screaming?”
Phoebe shrugged.
The woman had her back to them as she spoke to the air. She was completely alone in the in the half-empty living room, but Phoebe and Coop could see a Bluetooth device hooked to her ear. “Someone’s at the door. I’m going now. But I want those candlesticks back on the mantle by tomorrow morning!” She pressed a button on the device without saying goodbye and kept the headset in her ear as she spun toward the door. “Who the—Phoebe Halliwell? What are you doing here?”
Phoebe forced a cheery smile as she stepped into the house, taking the less-than-enthusiastic greeting as an invitation. The woman’s rage dissipated the moment she hung up the phone. Now when Phoebe reached out with her empathic abilities she felt nothing. There was no anger or rage. No sadness or happiness either. It was like staring into a void.
“You spoke with one of my coworkers this morning,” Phoebe said, ignoring the sudden lack of emotions for the moment. “She mentioned that you and your husband hit a difficult patch. I was in the neighborhood and I thought maybe it might help to talk.”
The woman looked confused. “What is this? Drive-by couples’ counseling? Who’s the bodyguard?”
Phoebe laughed more than the comments required. “I’m sorry. This is my husband, Coop. He’s… another expert on matters of the heart. We were hoping maybe you and your husband had a few minutes to talk.”
“I have no interest in being part of that follow up article that woman mentioned on the phone.”
“This isn’t for the paper,” Phoebe said. “I take a personal interest in my readers. In certain extreme situations I like to offer my assistance if possible.”
Mrs. Jordan looked around the partially empty living room. “I’d say it’s a little too late for help.”
“In my experience, it’s never too late,” Coop said. “I take it this separation has been in the works for a while now?”
Mrs. Jordan didn’t seem interested in talking about her problems. Phoebe could almost see the internal battle waging in the woman’s mind, but still felt nothing from her emotions. She had to be a big fan of Phoebe’s column to want to get married in a group photo op in the park. That wasn’t something the casual reader would probably want to do. Phoebe had become something of a minor celebrity through that column. Maybe there was a way to work that to her advantage. “Look, Mrs. Jordan—”
“Brianna,” she said. “Call me Bri.”
Phoebe took the woman’s hand hoping to pull a premonition, but she read nothing from that power either. “Bri, I get that this is a little unusual… and certainly unexpected. But you’d really be helping me out. Mika told me that it was my advice that brought you and your husband together in the first place. It would help to understand what led to this decision. It might help me when I respond to future readers.”
While Bri considered her answer, the movers came back and started for the couch.
“Hold on a second, fellas,” Bri said. “Why don’t you move to the dining room for now? Go ahead and take it all. We won’t be long.”
The movers shrugged and continued into the other room without another word.
Bri motioned to the couch. “I can spare a few minutes, but I don’t know that what I have to tell you is going to be all that helpful.”
“Any insight into your relationship could go a long way toward helping me diagnose the problem.” Phoebe was referring to more than just the Jordans’ personal issues as she and Coop sat down on the couch. “I take it that was Mr. Jordan on the phone when we came in? We were hoping to speak with him too.”
“Keon’s at work right now,” Bri said. “I took the day off. Figured it was best to do this when he’s not around. We can’t really stand the sight of each other these days.”
“So this has been building for a while?” Phoebe asked with hope, echoing Coop’s earlier question. A long, natural build up to this divorce would be a welcome response.
Bri shook her head. “That’s the crazy thing. I just woke up one morning and it was like… everything he’d ever done that bothered me suddenly intensified by a million. I couldn’t take it anymore. I mean… I threw a tube of toothpaste at his head because he forgot to put the cap back on. Again.”
“I’m guessing this caught your husband off guard?” Coop asked.
“The toothpaste did,” Bri said with a slight smile. “But he felt it too. It was like after all this time together something just clicked. It happened fast. We went to Vegas last month and had a great time. Even thought about renewing our vows at one of those cheesy Elvis wedding chapels. The photos alone would have been worth it. His mother would have been horrified. Even more scandalized than she was when we told her we’d gotten married by an advice columnist. No offense.”
Phoebe smiled. She liked this woman. “None taken.”
Bri moved over to the mantle. A picture of the couple sat next to an empty spot where those missing candlesticks probably used to be. “I’m glad that we have the memories from that trip to go out on, because the day-to-day stuff just got overwhelming.”
The movers came through the living room with a china cabinet. It provided silent commentary on the conversation as all three heads turned to watch their progress as the men carefully tilted it through the doorway.
“When did it happen?” Phoebe asked once they were gone. “The thing with the toothpaste?”
“Over the weekend,” Bri replied, catching the glance that Phoebe and Coop shared. “You’re wondering about the move?”
“It is kind of fast,” Phoebe said.
“I manage some properties around the city,” Bri explained. “I already had a condo available that I always wanted for myself. Great view of the bay. Close to friends. Not on top of one of the biggest damn hills in the city. He gets the house and I take everything else. We worked that out before we even filed the paperwork. Except the candlesticks. Those seem to still be under negotiation.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Phoebe said. “What if this is just a phase? Don’t you even want to try working it out? I mean, if the separation is already so amicable—”
“Amicable?” Bri said. “You heard us on the phone when you came in, didn’t you?”
“I say things in the heat of emotion sometimes,” Phoebe replied. “I don’t always mean them.”
“If you can agree on something as sentimental as your personal belongings, who knows what else you could accept if you talked it out more,” Coop added.
Bri placed the picture face-down on the mantle, as if looking at the memory of happier times was causing her pain. And yet, Phoebe didn’t feel anything from her. No emotions at all. Bri just faded into the woodwork. “Keon and I are both pretty set in our ways. We know what we want and we make it happen. Neither of us wastes time dithering over decisions. It’s what attracted us to one another in the first place. That’s why your advice was so valuable.”
Phoebe searched her memory, but she had no clue what that advice had been. She must have responded to hundreds readers since Bri had written her letter. She squeezed Coop’s hand and flashed him a smile, hoping that he would continue her line of thought.
“What was it Phoebe said that helped you two?” he asked, picking up on his wife’s signals.
Bri smiled wistfully as she sat in a metal folding chair across from the couch. “It’s funny, actually. It’s kind of the reverse of what we’re going through now. Keon and I met and fell in love so quickly. He proposed after the third date. I accepted before he even got the question out.” She held up a hand before they could say anything. “Crazy, I know, but like I said, we’re decisive people. We knew what we wanted and didn’t want to repeat the stupid games we’d been through before with others. It wasn’t until our families started hitting us with questions that I had second thoughts. I was questioning my decision, which is not like me. Once my mind is made up, it’s usually set.”
