“Hey, it takes a lot of work to teach you, y’know. I decided to be lazy with the food end of things today. Besides, this requires minimal cleanup.” Another bite, then, “I have a question.”
“What? You’re the teacher and you’re asking me a question?”
“Hush. How do you get ideas for your books and then transform them to stories?”
“Um. I never really thought about it. I just write. Why? And I thought I was supposed to be working on mumbo-jumbo today.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really have a lesson plan. Because I grew up with it, there’s no formal schooling that I’m aware of. I’m trying to figure out the best way to teach you. So, think about it and give me an answer. I think it’ll be a clue as to what the next step is and how I get it through your thick skull.”
I thought. “Well, you know most of the characters are based on someone I know or someone I’ve met.” I hadn’t yet told her that she and Tommy were the basis for the protagonists in the book I’d just submitted. Their pre-nuptial arguments were too precious to pass up. “I take those people, put them in a situation I dream up and then as they deal with their problems, the book sort of writes itself. I write an outline but nine times of ten, the characters themselves change the story and its outcome, blowing the outline all to hell. I don’t know how else to explain it. How does that relate to witchcraft?”
“Like your writing, it’s hard to explain. So much of what we do is based on intuition – just knowing what’s needed in a certain situation. It’s that ‘gut feeling’ people talk about all the time. You write using your gut feeling of what needs to happen when. I think I’m going to work on plants next.”
After lunch, she took me into her greenhouse, both cats following. “I understand Gregory did a lot of energy work with you and what you did at the fight kinda shows that he did. So, I’m not going to focus on that with you right now. The greenhouse is a good place to get you used to plant energy. Let’s start with one of the friendliest I know, peppermint. Focus on the plant and tell me what feelings you get or what your gut tells you.”
I tried not to feel silly when I stared at the plant. But all of a sudden, I got the same feeling like you do when you open the refrigerator door on a hot day – a wash of cool air.
“It’s in the second book but I’ll tell you that means in healing it’ll bring down fevers. For spellwork, I use it if a situation needs “cooling off”. Naturally, it has other uses but generally speaking, the first impression you get is the one where it’ll work best for you.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
“For the most part, every plant has more than one medicinal or magical property. The overlap is mind-boggling. So if you need something for a specific situation and you don’t have it, there’s almost always a substitute. Because your energy goes into anything you do, the better your connection with the plant, the easier the work, whether you’re drinking tea for an illness or casting a spell for something.”
I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t get sick so I had no idea about illness – unless you counted the occasional hangover. Ibuprofen and gallons of water healed me there.
Over the next couple of hours, she introduced me to about half the plants she had, some in flats ready to go into the ground when it got warm enough, some that were permanent residents in the greenhouse.
Peppermint wasn’t the only one I got something off of. Basil gave me an image of Martin – it must be good for money; off sage I got a hot, desert-dry wind – drying; mugwort made me giddy but I felt a cocoon surround me – you can get high off it but it’s good for protection; and so on. I wrote all my impressions in my notebook which, according to Cassandra, I’d be transferring to the second binder.
Then there were the plants where no matter how hard I focused, I got nothing. Feverfew? Lavender? One of her ferns? Zip. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Some are easier than others, and some you’ll never form a true connection with. Just make notes of what I tell you in case you need them for something.” I furiously scribbled.
All of a sudden, I heard Cassandra yell, “Hey!” I looked up from my writing to see her shooing both cats away from a plant in a deep pot. I could see the soil was disturbed and both of them had sheepish looks on their faces.
“You know better,” she chided Merlin. “I’m sorry, I could not help myself,” I heard from Fudge.
She sighed. “I should have known better. They were after the valerian root.”
“Valerian? Is that a form of catnip?” I asked, pen poised to write down her answer.
“No. Believe it or not, some cats don’t like catnip. However, some react to valerian or chamomile in the same way. I knew about Merlin’s affinity for valerian and it appears Fudge has the same love for the herb. Here. Smell this.” She held out a large amber jar with the lid off.
I took a whiff and almost choked. “Eeew. That smells like freshly-worn gym shoes.”
She laughed as she screwed the lid back on. “I know, right? But cats seem to like it. I’ll give you a little in a muslin bag for Fudge to play with once in awhile.”
I recorded her comments about valerian being good for sleep in my notebook while she smoothed the dirt back over the roots in the pot, apologizing to the plant all the while. (Tea? No thank you. It probably tastes just as bad as it smells. Capsules, if you please.) After that, I yawned and rubbed my temples.
“Enough for one day?” she asked.
“I think so. My head is about to burst with all this…and I’m wondering just when I’m ever going to need all of it.”
“Knowledge is power,” Fudge said. “You do not know what will happen in the future when some of this may be needed. A future, I might add, that is going to be much longer than you had originally anticipated. Things change in a long lifetime, believe me.”
“I know it’s a lot to absorb in a short period of time but you never know when it might come in handy,” Cassandra admonished me. “Do you still want to stay for supper? You’re welcome, you know. Tommy should be home in a few and I need to get things started.”
As much as I loved their cooking, I thought I needed to go home and relax, so I said no to the invitation.
“In that case, take your books with you. You need to finish reading the first one before next Sunday. There will be a quiz!”
This bites. I was back in school and just like when I was a kid, it was obligatory. It would have been one thing if I’d found something I truly was interested in and had voluntarily sought education on the subject. This business about learning to be a witch wasn’t a subject I would have chosen but there were too many people around me insisting I learn that I wouldn’t be able to duck it or play hooky. Not to mention that fancy-lettered “Thou shalt cultivate the gift thou hast been Blessed with” sounded awfully ominous. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get much recreational reading done.
I trudged home in the darkening afternoon, tucking my chin into my coat and still feeling a bit guilty about Fudge’s bare paws on the cold sidewalk. A bite in the air told me we were going to be getting a late spring snow. I hated when it did that. You get all used to warming temperatures, fewer layers of clothes and spring flowers then bam! Mother Nature makes everything all cold and white again. The farmers must have been heaving a lot of sighs.
When I got home, I dropped the binders on my coffee table then decided there was still time for a nap before choosing what to eat for dinner. I automatically checked my phone for a message from Tony. A flood of tears accompanied the realization that there wouldn’t be any more long phone calls, short text messages or flowers delivered to my desk every Monday morning. I plopped onto the couch, sobbing.
Fudge hopped on my lap. “It is going to be okay. The hole will heal and there will be scar tissue.”
I hiccupped. “You’re going to let me cry?”
“Of course. Tears are a necessary part of healing. You are human, you know, and humans cry when they are sad. As long as you do no
t start throwing off disruptive energy, I will not stand in the way of your healing.”
I curled up on the couch and allowed the tears to flow freely. Fudge nestled next to me, purring loudly. At some point, I cried myself to sleep…
And woke up with Fudge batting my nose – at least he was using soft paws. “I am hungry and you have not refilled my dish today.”
“I was sleeping and you woke me up to feed you? Selfish, much?” I grumbled as I felt around for the switch on the lamp. I had no idea how long I’d been out but the sun was completely down and it was pitch dark in my apartment.
“Well, you need to eat something, too.”
My stomach chose that moment to growl. “See?” I looked through sticky eyes at the clock. It was after ten. My stomach may have been hungry but the rest of me wasn’t. All I wanted to do was go back to that dark, dreamless sleep. But I knew Fudge was right. I couldn’t go more than twelve hours without food or I’d get light-headed and nauseated. I uncurled myself, padded into the kitchen and put a scoop of food in Fudge’s dish, mentally reviewing the contents of the refrigerator to see if I had anything that didn’t require a lot of chewing and choking down. Turns out dinner wasn’t in the refrigerator. I heated a bowl of soup in the microwave, downed it then headed for bed.
Chapter 12
They should outlaw Mondays. They suck.
Oh, the first few hours of this particular Monday were as good as any Monday is ever going to be. But the shit hit the fan when a strong odor let me know that the opening of the front door wasn’t a visitor but Ev coming back to work.
I got up from my desk to go greet him. I gave him the once-over, seeing no indication of trauma except for the bulge in his jaw where the swelling hadn’t quite subsided and a few fading bruises. “Welcome back! How are you feeling?”
“Like shit. I still can’t chew real food and it hurts to breathe. The doctor bills are going to be astronomical. How much interest did we have to pay to that shark in Atlanta?”
Wow. I guess I got the answer to my question. Grumpy and thinking about money, which he didn’t usually do. He scowled when I told him to the penny how much the interest was. “I suppose it’s not deductible, is it?”
I shook my head. “You know better. We’ve talked a lot over the years about what’s business and what’s personal. This falls under the personal category.”
Ev turned his head when a sneeze came from behind me, then peered in my office door. “What’s your cat doing here?”
“We have a lot of things to talk about,” I answered, mentally fortifying myself for the conversation to come. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Let me refill my cup and get my notes. I’ll meet you in your office.”
While I was talking, the door opened and Gregory walked in with a couple of Cassandra’s bear claws on a plate balanced on top of a cup I knew contained coffee. He grinned. “Good. I arrived just in time for the show. Ev, these are soft. Want one?”
Ev growled, snatched one of the sweets and stalked off to his office with Gregory right behind him. I grabbed my notes and coffee cup from my desk, detoured into the kitchen for more caffeine and followed, seating myself where I usually did for our morning catch-ups. Gregory leaned against the wall, sipping his coffee.
I opened my mouth to start filling him in on what had happened in his absence but he held up a hand, forestalling me. “What’s Fudge doing here? Your cat has never come to the office with you before.”
I fidgeted in my chair. “Well, some things have happened since you’ve been gone. One of them means that Fudge has to accompany me wherever I go for awhile.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And?”
I looked at Gregory, who shrugged his shoulders. No support from that direction. “Um. Turns out I’m a witch and Fudge is my familiar. Bad things can happen if I lose my temper. He’s here to help me keep control of my emotions until I can do it on my own.”
Ev shot to his feet which, apparently, wasn’t a good thing to do. He put his hand to his side, right where the broken ribs were. “What? What do you mean you’re a witch? We’ve been together for ages and you’re just now telling me? Don’t you think maybe that’s something you should have mentioned when I interviewed you?”
“Ev,” I said, trying to make my voice calm. “I didn’t know back then. I found out less than two weeks ago.”
He came around from behind his desk and loomed over me. “What do you mean you just found out? Witches are born that way. You should have said something. I can’t work with a witch.”
“Whoa,” Gregory interjected. “Calm down, man. You’re still healing, remember? And you work with wizards all the time.”
“Wizards are guys. They’re not devious like witches.”
I was taken aback. I stood and, craning my neck, looked him as close as to the eye as I could get. “You mean to tell me this changes everything that’s happened over the last eight years? Devious? You call busting my ass to get and keep your business running smoothly devious? You call flying all the way down to Atlanta, traipsing in the woods and watching my boyfriend be killed to save your ass devious?”
“Amy,” Gregory cautioned.
Fudge came running into the office and with one smooth motion, sprang into my arms. He sneezed again then I heard “Calm yourself”. Another sneeze followed.
I took a big gulp of air and, unclenching my fists, twined my fingers in Fudge’s fur. Fudge sneezed again, turned his head and nuzzled into my armpit. “Your deodorant smells much better than the ogre.”
“I can’t work with a witch, I just can’t,” Ev said. “I’m sorry Amy, but our relationship has to end. Please clean out your office.”
My jaw dropped. “What? You’re firing me? One little quirk in my DNA comes to light – something I can’t do a damned thing about and you’re firing me? You malodorous bastard. Fine. I’m outta here.” I turned on my heel, walked from his office to mine, grabbed my purse and coat and left with Fudge still in my arms. Barely noticing that the monitor on Sally’s desk made a zapping sound as I passed, I made certain to slam the door on my way out, stomped all the way down the stairs and slammed the outer door, just for good measure.
I’d gotten just a couple of steps down the sidewalk when Fudge said, “If you do not calm yourself, I will have to do it for you. You are giving off more than sparks.” I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn’t even be furious anymore. Earthquakes were not good anytime and unheard of in Minnesota. “Untrue. You can be furious. Just cold rage instead of boiling mad.”
I closed my eyes, took several deep breaths and waited for my racing heart to slow. “Better.” Fudge jumped out of my arms and started walking toward home. “Coming?” I brought my focus back to my surroundings, put my coat on, slung my purse over my shoulder and followed.
Remembering “cold rage” instead of “boiling mad”, I stomped into my apartment, slammed that door, flung my coat and purse on the sofa and began to pace. “That bastard,” I muttered to myself. “After all I’ve done for him, he fires me over something I can’t control.”
I continued my march around and around the living room, Fudge matching me step for step. Oh, it wasn’t the paycheck. I didn’t need that – I made enough money off my writing to support myself. It was the principle of the thing. I’d known about my witchiness for less than two weeks, really hadn’t a clue what to do about or with it and thanks to Ev, my life gets turned upside-down yet again. The match-making demon who made my life hell was his fault. Come to think of it, so was the lovesick vampire. Maybe I was better off not working for him anymore.
Then I sagged onto the chair and started crying. I liked my job. Keeping his business in order was an outlet for the anal-retentive part of me. I also couldn’t deny that I got the majority of the characters in my books from the people I’d met working for Ev.
I had no idea how long I cried but after some time, there was a knock on the door. “Go away,” I cried.
Gregory’s voice came through the steel. “Open
up, Amy. We need to talk.”
I didn’t want to talk to anyone; I just wanted to wallow in my sorrow. “I don’t want to. Go away.”
I heard some murmuring then footsteps back up the stairs. Good. I was alone with my thoughts and my cat.
A couple of minutes later, the back door opened and Gregory slipped past Marge, who had the key to my apartment in her hand. “It’s for your own good,” she said before closing the door and leaving us alone. Gregory walked over, opened the front door and admitted both Sally and Cassandra. I glared at them all.
“You should know I just quit,” Gregory said.
“Me, too,” Sally added.
“Ev’s off his rocker,” Cassandra piped in.
I stared. “What? Why?”
They all started talking at once and I couldn’t make heads or tails of what anyone was saying. “Shit. One at a time, guys. Gregory, you first.”
Gregory’ usually smiling visage was serious. “I knew Ev didn’t like witches…at all. I am honestly surprised he’s had as much to do with Cassandra as he has. He had a bad experience with one about forty years ago. His love life, naturally. But I never dreamed he’d fire you over being one. I assumed he’d just throw one of his tantrums then calm down and realize you weren’t like that one woman.
“If he cannot work with a witch, especially one who has done him nothing but good over the years, I can’t see why he would want to work with any magical people at all and told him as much. As I’m a magical person working even more closely with him than you, I said I couldn’t fathom him wanting me around and tendered my resignation.”
Sally picked up where Gregory left off. “I came in early today because I was bored and caught the tail end of Gregory’s lecture. Ev offered me your job. I told him I didn’t need to work and the only reason I did was because it was part-time and I enjoyed working with you. Because I’m married to a wizard, I could probably get Jack to cook up something devious so Ev was better off without me around and I quit then and there.”
Upheaval! Page 13
