A Breath of Magic

by Tracy Madison

  Ben stiffened and a glint shone in his eyes—a reflection of anger? Maybe. Or maybe something else. I just didn’t know.

  “We were focused on Marissa, and she made us happy. But if you’re asking if Sara and I were happy as a couple, then no. Not for a long time, anyway.”

  “H-how come?”

  “Sara…didn’t love me. It’s damn hard to make a marriage work when one partner wishes they were with someone else.” He shook his head, a new battle raging in his eyes, in his expression. “We kept all of that from Rissa, though. For all of Sara’s faults, she agreed that our daughter came first.”

  “You know…” I spoke carefully, knowing I was wading into murky waters. “Kids sense a lot of things that parents don’t realize. Maybe Marissa knew more than you thought.”

  “Marissa didn’t know,” he said firmly. “We took every caution to keep her life steady and secure.”

  I pressed my lips together. Mari had known. I was sure of it, but it would get me nowhere arguing with Ben about a daughter whom, as far as he knew, I’d never met. Likely it would push us apart. “How are you?” I asked instead. “Dealing with a loss like this…”

  “It’s been over two years. The worst of the pain…I’m usually okay. As long as I focus on work and staying busy, I do fine. I can’t allow myself to think about Marissa that often,” he admitted shakily. “When I do, I can almost smell her. Sometimes I’m sure she’s there, but I turn around and she isn’t.” He closed his mouth abruptly, as if he’d said far more than he planned.

  Probably, in those moments, he had sensed her. Thinking I could broach the topic indirectly, I said, “Well…you know, I believe in ghosts.”

  Whisking a strand of hair off of my cheek, he tossed me a smile I pegged as completely false. “Let’s move on to happier topics. You wore me out last night and I’m starving. Why don’t you finish getting ready and we’ll go get something to eat?”

  I wanted to argue. I wanted to push him for more information, because there was more to this story, more that he wasn’t saying. The temptation to use my magic was strong, and I gave the idea some serious consideration, but in the end I resisted the pull. I’d wait until I talked with Mari, until I learned more, before going down that road.

  Or…maybe I was just chicken. Because the thought of ruining what had so recently begun filled me with terror. So right or wrong, I latched on to the promise of a day spent with Ben, of possibly reclaiming our momentum from earlier, before his revelation.

  “That sounds terrific.” I leaned over and gave him a long, slow kiss. His arms came around me, and for a few fleeting minutes everything felt exactly right.

  Now, if I could only find a way to turn fleeting minutes into forever, to help Mari, to convince Ben I wasn’t a loon, to mend fences with my sister and figure out the mess with Kyle…well, I’d be all set, wouldn’t I?

  By the time Paige arrived at the Mystic Corner on Monday morning, I’d decided on a course of action. Ben and I had spent the rest of the weekend together, and for the most part, every minute of that weekend had been luscious, wonderful and illuminating. Not only hadn’t he referred to himself as my rebound guy again, but he seemed relaxed and at ease. Which, taking everything into consideration, I took as a good sign.

  He hadn’t brought up the subject of his daughter or wife again, though, and I—following his lead—hadn’t done so either. That didn’t mean they weren’t on my mind, because they were. Especially Mari. So when Paige waltzed in through the back door thirty minutes before we opened, I was ready and waiting.

  “I have a surprise for you!” I said as enthusiastically as possible.

  She yawned and slipped off her backpack. “What type of a surprise?”

  “Five days off with full pay. Starting now!” After all, Mari had only spoken to me when we were alone, so I wanted to give her every chance in the world to pop in. Even if that meant I flew solo for a few days.

  Paige stowed her backpack and turned, eyeing me with confusion and a fair amount of suspicion. “You’re going to pay me for the week? I’ve already used up most of my vacation time this year.”

  “Consider this a bonus. For your exemplary work ethic. You’ve earned it!”

  Rather than the excitement I expected, Paige planted her hands on her waist and frowned. “What’s really going on? Why do you want me out of here so badly?”

  “Geesh, Paige. Most people wouldn’t care why. They’d just be thrilled to have some extra paid time off.” I gave her a bright smile. “Just go and enjoy your week. I’ll still need you on Saturday, though. And before you ask, the store is still solidly in the black.”

  “Ohh-kay. Whatever you say.” She went to retrieve her backpack but stopped midreach. “Actually, how about if I work this morning and then take off tomorrow through Friday? I mean, I’m already here, and I leave early, anyway. And that way you can get the payroll done, so I can get my check before I leave?”

  Ugh. I’d forgotten about payroll. “Yeah, that will work. But I’ll get moving on it right away, so you can get out of here extra early.”

  She gave me another curious glance but didn’t argue. Once she headed to the front, I heaved a sigh of relief. Hopefully, Mari would show sooner rather than later, and hopefully, she’d be ready to tell me whatever it was she needed from me.

  I turned my computer on and went to start a pot of coffee. Everything I did brought a twitch to my muscles, a reminder of every last thing Ben and I had done to each other over the past two days. Glorious, really, feeling like this. I waited for the coffee to brew, poured myself a cup and dealt with the payroll. While the checks were printing, I opened my browser and typed in “Sara and Marissa Malone, car accident, Chicago, Illinois,” and then clicked enter.

  After the results appeared, I clicked on a link to an article with the headline, chicago area mother and daughter killed in car accident. I read the text quickly, looking for any bit of information I didn’t already know but finding none. The story was short and to the point, stating that the accident was Marissa’s fault, that Sara had been ejected through the window of the vehicle, the name of the driver of the other vehicle and that he had escaped free of injury. The article itself was probably no more than two hundred words, and even that bothered me. Two lives lost were boiled down to the barest minimum.

  I closed the browser, not able to stomach looking at the article for another minute. “What really happened that night, Mari? What had you so angry, and why was your mother sad? Were you two arguing about something? The man she loved, perhaps?” I whispered the questions, somehow hoping the answers or the girl herself would appear before me. No such luck.

  Pulling the checks off of the printer, I ripped off Paige’s and started toward the door, ready to send her on her way. But before I walked even two feet, the door swished open and a very flustered Paige stepped in. “Kyle’s here again,” she said. “He wants to talk to you. Should I send him back?”

  I swore. After not hearing so much as a peep from him the entire weekend, I’d begun to believe that Elizabeth’s wish had fixed everything. Apparently not. I gave Paige her check and worked to keep my voice steady. “He didn’t bring flowers again, did he?”

  “No, but…he seems kind of angry. We were talking and…” She slicked her hands down the front of her skirt. “Should I send him back?”

  “Yeah. Go ahead.” I knew, after my intimate weekend with Ben, that even if everything with him exploded in my face, I would never be happy with a man who didn’t make me feel as alive as Ben did. So at least my lingering doubts regarding Kyle were gone. Now I just had to remove his own so that he could be happy.

  I stood in the open doorway, watching him approach. I gestured for him to come in and closed the door tightly behind us. “I’m glad to see you,” I said softly. “I was hoping we’d have a chance to talk.”

  “I have one question,” he said. “Did you use magic on me to make me say yes to your proposal?”

  “Wh-what? Where did that come
from?” Stupid question. This had Grandma Verda’s name written all over it. I just wished she’d given me a heads-up. So I could’ve had some semblance of an appropriate response ready.

  “Just answer the question, Chloe.” He narrowed his eyes. “Is. It. True?”

  Fisting my hands, I nodded. “Yes, it’s true. But you’ve never believed in anything supernatural or metaphysical, so what…what did Verda say to make you believe?”

  “She brought me cookies. ‘Magic cookies,’ she said. I told her I didn’t want them, and she started talking crazy—said you’d cursed me, and that I needed to eat the cookies to undo part of the curse.”

  “And that was enough?” I pushed out a squeaky laugh. “Verda has some…odd ideas.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought, but I ate a cookie anyway. Then, over the weekend, I gave it a lot of thought and realized something.” He shot me a look that dared me to argue. When it became apparent that I wasn’t going to, he continued. “I’ve thought more about you since the night you proposed than I have for the entire time we dated. Like an addiction I can’t get rid of. Is that just a coincidence?”

  “It’s not as if I gave you a love potion or anything. It was just a little spell that was supposed to relax your fears about commitment. But”—I swallowed—“it seems I spelled you twice, and that’s why you’re so…um…dead set on us being together.” Oh, did Verda have a thing or two to hear from me. I’d done her a favor. A freaking huge favor. One her granddaughters wouldn’t even do, and how did she repay me? By ratting me out!

  “Say I believe this, and I’m not saying for sure that I do, but pretend I believe. Can you fix it?”

  “Yes. Or…I think I can, anyway. You say you ate the cookies?”

  He glowered at me but didn’t speak. Then he nodded.

  “Have they helped at all? Do you feel any different? Maybe everything is already fixed, but you’re thinking too much about it so you haven’t realized. Is that possible, Kyle?”

  Crossing his arms, he stared me down. “I’m standing here and all I can think about is how I can get you to agree to marry me. But I know I’m not in love with you. Does that sound like whatever the hell was in those cookies worked?”

  “N-no. Not at all.” I sucked in a lungful of air. “Let’s do this…So, um, close your eyes. I don’t want you to see this. It might, uh, freak you out a little.”

  “You’re serious? You want me to close my eyes?”

  “I’m not going to beat you over the head or anything. I just…well, I’ll have an easier time doing it if you’re not staring at me. Okay?”

  “Whatever.” He grumbled and frowned and his entire body tightened, but he did as I asked. “Just hurry up. I’m late for work.”

  Nervousness whisked through me, but I centered my thoughts and focused on my breathing. I thought about Kyle, about how much I cared about him, about how important he was to me, but that I knew we weren’t right for each other and that I wanted to set him free so that he could find the person—whoever, wherever she was—who was right for him. I envisioned him locked in a cage, one that I’d built with magic through my misguided emotions and wants, and then I imagined the bars melting to the ground and disappearing. When I saw this clearly, I reached deep inside and grabbed my magic. It switched on, fast and furious, alive and potent, whipping through me, feeding off of my thoughts, off of the image, off of everything I felt and wanted for Kyle.

  I grabbed Kyle’s hands and thought, I abolish whatever spells have been cast on you by my hand so that you’ll regain full control of your will, and your choices, feelings, wants and desires are yours and yours alone.

  I opened myself fully to the energy, allowing the magic to zip from my hands into Kyle’s, knowing the physical touch wasn’t necessary but not wanting to leave anything to chance. Several seconds, maybe a minute, passed in a blur of pulsating power that electrified the air. My lungs hurt from the effort to breathe, and my body trembled from the outpouring of magic, but I held on with everything I had, refusing to give up, refusing to turn away. Finally, I felt the subtle shift of power that told me the spell had been cast.

  Squeezing his hands tighter, I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth, trying to find my balance. Another long lash of energy trickled through me, the air returned to normal, my shivers vanished and the power evaporated.

  I dropped his hands and backed up a step, and then another, until I bumped up against my desk. “Done,” I whispered. “That should…well, that should do it. You should be back to normal fairly fast.”

  Kyle opened his eyes and the tension in his shoulders eased. “How will I know if it worked? Not that I’m saying I believe in this or anything, but if I were to believe, how would I know?”

  Good question, but I had a better one. “Do you still want to marry me?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. Angling his head to the side, he grew pensive, as if searching himself to find the answer. This, believe it or not, told me that the magic had worked, that I had cleansed him of the other spell. If he had to think about whether or not he still wanted to marry me, the chances were high he didn’t.

  Slowly, he shook his head. “No, I don’t. I remember wanting to marry you, feeling as if I had no choice but to keep trying, but it’s barely there now, and even that is fading away the longer I think about it.” Clearing his throat, he stepped backward toward the shop door. “Magic,” he scoffed. “What was I thinking? Maybe I just had to see you one more time to get those thoughts out of my head. Because we’d been together for so long.”

  Trying hard not to smile, I nodded. “You’re right. That’s probably it.”

  “The simplest explanation is usually the correct explanation,” he continued. “So, thanks for humoring me.”

  My smile emerged. “Okay. If that’s how you want to play it, then you’re welcome.”

  His gaze darted around the room. “So this is it, huh?”

  “It doesn’t have to be. Can’t we remain friends?”

  A quirky, happy-go-lucky grin lit his face. In that second, my heart squeezed. Our relationship had meant so much to me for a long time. “You still want to be friends?” he asked.

  “Of course I do! I owe you a lot, you know. No one else really stuck by me this past year, not the way you did. And back in high school”—I closed my eyes briefly as the memories swept in—“you…well, you made me very happy. You entered my life when I needed…when I felt lost and afraid, and even though I had Alice and Sheridan, you did something for me that no one else could. You”—I gulped as I made the admission—“took care of me. You made me feel special.”

  “You are special, and you helped me too, Chloe. It wasn’t all one-sided.” He cleared his throat again. “Come here.”

  I did, and he pulled me in for a hug. I held on tight, pressed my forehead against his chest and mourned one final time the fact that we hadn’t been more than we were. I’d held on to the belief that what we had in high school was real and lasting, and that he’d made a mistake in leaving me. Letting all of this go was easier now. We separated, and my heart squeezed again. Not so much in pain as in loss, because we were finally, really and truly through.

  “Hey, why are you looking so sad?” Tweaking my chin with his thumb and forefinger, he grinned again. “I’m not going anywhere, Chloe. Friends it is.”

  I gulped, and the tears I’d barely held back dripped from my eyes. Not a gush, not a flood of emotion, but appropriate nonetheless. “I want you to be happy. I want you to find the love you felt—feel—for Shelby with someone who can return it.”

  He kissed me on my forehead for old time’s sake, and then gave me one more quick hug. “I wish the same for you. But I should take off, so I still have a job. Friends, though, right? You’re not going to change your mind on that too?” he teased.

  “Absolutely not.” I watched him leave and then gave myself a few minutes to feel whatever I was going to feel. The four drawings, the futures that Alice’s magic had created,
came to mind. Miranda had said that one of those futures would be the one I’d claim, and that the others were there because of certain choices and decisions.

  I envisioned the drawing that had shown my future with Kyle, and then I visualized ripping the picture up and throwing the pieces away, because this choice had removed any potential for that specific future. Relief that I seemed to be making headway fluttered in, easing the bittersweet moment. Then, with my romantic relationship with Kyle put where it belonged—firmly in the past—I went to set Paige free so that I could wait for Mari.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Sheridan, it’s Chloe again. Your sister. You know, the girl you grew up with? I really want to talk to you, so could you please call me back?” I rattled off all of my numbers again then hung up the phone with a frustrated sigh.

  Damn Miranda and her assurances. Sheridan obviously did not want to talk to me, did not miss me and had no desire to reconnect. The fact that she hadn’t responded to any one of my three messages over as many days broadcast that statement loud and clear. I couldn’t decide what bugged me more: that she hadn’t gotten in touch, or that I’d allowed myself to believe we had a chance. So stupid of me.

  I cursed Miranda again for giving me hope where none existed, and finished closing up the shop. After my luck with Kyle, I’d naively thought that everything else was finally sliding into focus. If someone had asked me Monday morning, I would’ve sworn that by today—Wednesday evening—I’d already have begun mending fences with my sister, and that I’d have a firm handle on the Mari situation. No and no. Because Sheridan wasn’t the only person refusing to reach out. I hadn’t seen even a glimpse of Mari since Saturday morning, when she’d phased in for all of five seconds.

  Why she’d come to me before I knew who she was, and why she wasn’t coming now that I did added yet another layer of confusion atop the already jumbled mishmash of strangeness. So that was why right before leaving the store, I grabbed a book from our stock of spiritual subjects. This one dealt in the afterlife, and within its many chapters existed a message that I wanted Ben to read. Maybe if I could get him to open himself up to the possibility of ghosts, we might have a chance of reaching Mari together.