by Isobel Bird
Cooper’s thoughts went back to the night of her dedication ceremony. Connection had been the word she’d drawn from the cauldron, the word that was supposed to represent her primary challenge for the coming year and a day. Well, she’d met that challenge head-on. But where had it gotten her? I’m in my room, alone, on a Friday night, she thought bitterly. So much for that little bit of magic. Even her connection to Wicca was being taken away from her now that she was essentially being excluded from the covens. But why? Why was everything she’d worked so hard for being jerked out from under her?
Her eyes went to the altar beside her bed, and the image of the Goddess that sat on it. Ever since being turned down for initiation, Cooper hadn’t devoted any time to her witchcraft studies. She was too depressed. Now she stared at the statue.
“I don’t get it,” she said. “What did I ever do to you?”
She waited a moment, as if expecting the statue to answer her. Then she sighed. “Might as well get started on my homework,” she said, looking at the schoolbooks piled on her desk and wondering if her life could possibly get any worse than it was.
CHAPTER 5
“Well, what do you think?”
Annie took the paint chip and looked at it. “It’s really yellow,” she said.
Becka sighed. “I know,” she said. “I want some color, but I can’t decide what would look the best in that room.”
“Maybe you should go a little darker,” Annie suggested, selecting another chip. “What about this? It’s called Curried Peach.”
Becka made a face. “What’s with these names?” she asked. “The last one was Summerlight. Do they really think people pick colors based on the names?”
Annie laughed. “Why not?” she replied. “J. Crew operates on the same principle.”
They were standing in the paint section of the local home improvement store, staring blankly at the rows and rows of paint color chips. Grayson and Becka had unexpectedly been able to come up for the weekend, and they’d decided that it would be the perfect time for Becka to paint the room that was going to be hers. She and Annie had been sent to the store on Saturday morning to get the paint. They’d been looking at colors for half an hour, and Becka still hadn’t been able to choose one. Now she groaned.
“Let’s just paint it off-white,” she said.
“No way!” exclaimed Annie. “If you do that I’m never visiting you in your room. Now, let’s focus. What’s your favorite color?”
“Black,” Becka said.
“Well, that’s out,” Annie told her. “So we have to come up with something else.”
“Tell you what,” said Becka. “How about I let you pick it?”
“Me?” Annie said.
“Surprise me,” said Becka. “I’ll go get brushes and drop cloths and stuff. You get the paint. When we get home I’ll see what you came up with.”
“But what if you hate it?” Annie said. “Then we’ll have to do this all over again.”
“I trust you,” Becka told her. “See you in twenty.”
She turned and disappeared down the aisle where the painting accessories were. Left alone, Annie stood and looked at the vast array of color choices displayed on the wall. What was she going to pick for her soon-to-be-sort-of-sister’s room? She wanted it to be something cool, something Becka would really love. But what color did you choose for a girl who liked black? Annie looked at her watch. Sixteen minutes to go, she thought.
She thought about her own room. It was painted a dark honey color that lit up when the sun filled the room. Looking at it made Annie feel like she was in a warm, golden cocoon. She wanted Becka to feel the same way when she was in her new room. But what color would make someone like Becka feel at home? Annie scanned the rows of colors, and suddenly her eyes stopped at one in particular.
No, she thought. I couldn’t. That is so not Becka.
She moved on to different colors, but time and again she returned to the one that had grabbed her attention. Each time she rejected it again, knowing that it would be disastrous. But then she was brought right back to it again. It was as if some other force was making her pay attention to that one paint chip. Finally, she reached out and took it.
She’s going to kill me, she thought as she examined the chip, holding it up to the light. But over and over again her study of Wicca had taught her to trust her instincts, and she decided to go for it. Besides, she thought as she grabbed two gallons of paint and headed for the color-processing counter, it’s not like I have to live with it.
When Becka joined her ten minutes later, her arms laden with rollers and brushes, Annie held up the cans of paint. “Ta da,” she said dramatically.
“I can’t wait to see it,” said Becka as they headed for the checkout counter. “Is it something cool?”
“It’s something, all right,” Annie said mysteriously. “You’ll see.”
An hour later they were standing in the center of what was now Becka’s bedroom. They’d removed all of the junk that had been stored there, vacuumed out all of the dust, put a drop cloth over the wood floor, and taped around the edges. Both girls were dressed in old clothes, and Becka was standing in front of Annie, who was kneeling on the floor and prying the lid off the first can of paint. Finally she got it off and showed Becka the color she’d chosen.
“Pink?” Becka said, surprised.
“Not just pink,” Annie told her. “Venetian Pink.” She looked at Becka hopefully. “I think it’s supposed to remind you of Italy for some reason. What do you think?”
“I think it’s pink,” Becka said carefully. She had a peculiar expression on her face.
“You hate it,” said Annie. “It’s okay. We can take it back. I don’t know why I picked this color. Something kept bringing me back to it. But I know it isn’t really you, and I should have gone for the blue I liked in the first place.” She began to put the lid back on the paint.
“No,” Becka said, stopping her. “It’s okay.”
Annie looked up at her. “It is?” she asked doubtfully.
Becka nodded. “I just don’t know how you knew,” she said.
“Knew what?” Annie asked her, confused. “I don’t know why I picked it. Honestly. It’s like it just wouldn’t go away.”
Becka smiled and laughed. “That was my mom’s favorite color,” she said. “In a lot of the pictures I have of her she’s wearing it. I always wanted to paint my room that color but I was afraid it would freak my dad out. Plus, I thought people would think I was way too girly,” she added.
“Great,” Annie said, the momentary happiness that had welled up in her draining right back out again. “So now I’m going to give your dad a fit and make you feel like you’re six.”
“No,” said Becka, dipping a brush in the paint and applying a little of it to the wall, where it immediately made the room feel brighter and airier. “I like it. And I think my dad will like it, too.”
“It reminded me of the roses my mother used to grow,” said Annie. “You know, the ones that used to cover the porch of our house—of your house. One of them is planted in the garden here now.”
“This is our house now,” Becka replied thoughtfully, adding more paint to the wall in broad strokes. Annie joined her, using the roller, and soon they had one entire wall done. As Becka painted the edges, Annie filled in the large spaces in between, and working as a team they had most of the room done in no time. When it was almost complete they took a break and looked at their handiwork.
“You know, I was kind of worried about moving here,” Becka told Annie.
“Worried?” Annie asked.
Becka nodded. “I was afraid you would feel like I was taking away some of your space,” she said. “You know, you have this whole floor to yourself. Now I’ll be here. I know we talk about how much fun it will be, but part of me was worried that you might not like having another sister after all.”
“And now?” said Annie.
Becka looked at the walls of her room, glowing
pink in the late-morning sun. “I think anyone who would dare pick this color for me is exactly the kind of sister I want to have,” she said.
“Remember that when we’re both trying to use the bathroom in the morning,” Annie told her.
They finished the rest of the room and then left it to dry. Going downstairs, they found Aunt Sarah, Grayson, and Meg in the kitchen, putting out sandwich makings.
“Perfect timing,” Aunt Sarah said as the girls arrived. “We were just going to call you.”
“How goes the painting?” asked Mr. Dunning.
“The first coat is done,” Becka told him. “We’ll do the second one this afternoon and that’s it.”
“And what was the final color choice?” Aunt Sarah asked them as she sliced a tomato for her sandwich.
Becka looked at Annie. “We’re keeping that a surprise,” Becka said. “You can see it when it’s done.”
“They’re already teaming up against us,” Grayson said to Aunt Sarah. “We’re doomed.”
“I’m already used to getting it from my two,” Annie’s aunt told him. “You’re the one who’s going to be experiencing having more than one girl around. And if you really think about it, there will be four of us against you from time to time.”
Becka’s father looked at the radiant faces of his daughter, his fiancée, and her two nieces as they all smiled at him. “I hadn’t thought of that until just now,” he said, laughing nervously.
“Well, it’s too late to back out,” Aunt Sarah told him. “We’ve got costumes ordered.” She turned to Becka and Annie. “I spoke to Juliet today,” she said. “She and her friends are thrilled about making the costumes for the wedding. They’re starting this weekend.”
Annie’s aunt had broached the subject of the Alice in Wonderland wedding with Grayson as soon as he’d arrived the night before. To Annie’s delight, he had agreed immediately, finding it a wonderful idea. After some discussion it had been decided that he and Aunt Sarah would indeed be Alice and the Mad Hatter. Meg was the White Rabbit, finding the Dormouse—in her words—“a total snore,” and Becka had agreed to dress as the Cheshire Cat, but only after trying valiantly to persuade her father and Aunt Sarah to let her go as the more fearsome Jabberwocky. They had vetoed that suggestion, Grayson telling her that the wedding was going to be “brillig enough” without the addition of monsters.
Annie, who had been quite looking forward to going as the Caterpillar, was the only one whose costume seemed potentially impossible. Her aunt had decided to wait until speaking with Juliet to see what her thoughts on the subject were before deciding on Annie’s final getup. Now Annie waited breathlessly to hear her fate. She was afraid that if the Caterpillar idea had to be nixed she’d end up as something awful, like one of the talking flowers, or perhaps the Walrus or the Carpenter.
“And you’ll be happy to know that Juliet thinks she can do something very interesting with your Caterpillar outfit,” Aunt Sarah said finally, making Annie breathe a sigh of relief. “She even has an idea for making movable arms, which, frankly, I find a little creepy.”
“No, it will be really cool,” Annie said. “The more arms the better.”
“I’m getting whiskers,” Meg said happily. “And a waistcoat. Grayson said I can even wear his father’s pocket watch.”
Annie began making herself a lettuce, cheese, and tomato sandwich. “This wedding is going to be perfect,” she remarked.
“I must say, it does all seem to be coming together remarkably well,” said Aunt Sarah. “I keep waiting for one of those disasters all the wedding planning books tell you to expect, but so far it looks as if it’s going to be smooth sailing.”
They all gathered around the kitchen table and ate. Watching everyone, Annie realized that for the first time since she was a little girl, she felt as if she was having a real family meal. With her aunt on one side and Grayson on the other, it reminded her of sitting at the table with her parents. She used to love sitting between them, eating her lunch or her dinner and listening to them talk. She’d felt secure then, and loved.
Not that she hadn’t felt loved since then, or that she hadn’t felt part of a family. Her aunt and her sister were definitely her family. So were Kate and Cooper. But there was something about being part of a complete circle again. It was as if Grayson and Becka had been missing from their lives, and now that they were all together something very, very special had been formed.
This is what I want my coven to feel like, Annie thought. I want it to feel like family. She watched the faces around the table as they ate and talked. Each of them was unique. She looked at Meg, carefully cutting the crusts from her egg salad sandwich before eating it, then at Becka, who, she now noticed, alternated bites of her sandwich with sips from her glass. Her aunt, chatting away amiably, made sure that none of the different foods on her plate touched, while Grayson basically pushed everything into a big pile and went at it enthusiastically, scooping up potato salad with the bread from his sandwich. Annie herself had a habit of never eating food that crunched too much, because the texture bothered her.
Noting the little eccentricities each of them possessed, Annie realized that each of them brought something different to the family group. She, her aunt, and Meg had lived with each other for so long that they had become accustomed to each other. But now that Becka and Grayson were going to be part of their family, how would that change things? Would the familiar pattern of life in the Crandall household be disrupted now that it was the Crandall-Dunning household? Or would it become something new, a combination of the two? What would happen, for example, if her aunt discovered that Grayson always left the top off the toothpaste tube, or if Annie and Becka clashed over the issue of eating peanut butter right out of the jar?
It’s like making magic with other people, thought Annie as she chewed her sandwich. She, Kate, and Cooper had sometimes clashed over their differing styles of doing things. But they’d always managed to work things out, and the magic they’d made as a result of compromising and respecting one another’s views had been more powerful than anything any of them could do on their own.
So maybe I don’t need to be in a coven with people just like me, Annie realized. In thinking about where she would find the best home for her Wiccan work, she had been assuming that she should look for a coven of people like herself. But perhaps that was the wrong approach. Maybe, instead, she should look for a coven that had a lot of diversity in it. But was there one? So far they’d only heard about the Daughters of the Cauldron. Annie would have to wait to see who they heard from next.
When lunch was over Annie and Becka went back upstairs to see how the bedroom looked now that they’d been away from it for a while. The paint had dried, and it was slightly lighter than it had appeared going on. The effect made the room look like it had been warmed by the sun for many years.
“It really does look like the pink color you see in Italian frescoes, doesn’t it?” Becka remarked as they stood admiring their work. “My dad has a photo book of them, and this is exactly what some of them look like.”
“So maybe whoever picks those paint names actually got one right,” said Annie.
“I think one more coat to cover everything again and we’ll be done,” Becka told her.
They got back to work. This time things went even more quickly, as they could more easily see which areas needed attention. Once again working as a team, but with Annie doing the trim work and Becka wielding the roller, they had soon finished. When they were done Becka rubbed at a spot of pink that had gotten on her cheek. “I think after all of this we deserve some fun tonight,” she said. “Think the girls are up for a night out?”
“Let’s find out,” said Annie.
A few phone calls later, they’d gotten acceptances from Kate, Cooper, and Sasha. Cooper was going to see if Jane wanted to join them as well.
“Now we just have to agree on where to eat and what to do,” Annie told Becka. “But at least we know we’re doing it at six.”
“That gives us a couple of hours to get ready,” said Becka. “I for one am in desperate need of a shower.”
“Same here,” Annie said. “Why don’t you go first. I’ll clean up in the bedroom.”
Becka disappeared into the bathroom while Annie returned to the bedroom and began putting the lids back on the cans and gathering up the painting supplies. She pulled the masking tape away from the window edges and the baseboards, and pulled up the tarps. Then she took all of it downstairs and put it in the big garage behind the house.
Back upstairs, she stood in the newly painted bedroom and listened to the water running in the bathroom between her room and Becka’s. She could hear Becka singing. She also heard the voices of her aunt and Grayson coming from the kitchen downstairs.
This house feels more alive than it has in a long time, she thought happily. Now if I can just find a coven that feels the same way, I’ll be totally happy.
CHAPTER 6
“Look at this one.” Kate’s Aunt Netty handed her another photograph.
Kate and her aunt were sitting at a table in a restaurant on Sunday afternoon. Netty had called that morning to say she was coming by for a visit, which had delighted her niece. Kate hadn’t seen her aunt in more than a month, and she was looking forward to it. When Netty had added that she had a surprise for Kate, that had just upped the excitement level.
Now, waiting for their food to arrive, Kate was finding out what the surprise was. She looked at the image in her hand. It depicted a circle of women dressed in white and wearing garlands of flowers in their hair. They were standing in front of some enormous stones, and their arms were held up to the sky.
