Initiation

by Isobel Bird

  “Speaking of food,” said Aunt Sarah. “Are you all ready for dinner?”

  “We’re having fajitas,” Annie told Juliet. “I thought that would be fun.”

  “Sounds great,” Juliet said. “Let me just put these costumes up in my room and I’ll be down.”

  “I’ll help,” Meg said.

  The two of them gathered up the various articles of clothing, put them back into the bags, and carried everything upstairs. While they were doing that, Annie and her aunt went to the kitchen and began getting everything ready.

  “She’s so nice,” Aunt Sarah said to Annie. “I hope I’m not staring at her too much. It’s just so strange seeing someone who weighed eight pounds the last time I saw her. I don’t think it’s quite sunk in yet that she’s really Peter and Chloe’s daughter.”

  “I know what you mean,” Annie said as she began cutting up strips of yellow and red peppers for the fajitas. “Every so often I stop and think ‘That’s my big sister over there.’ ”

  “Things have changed so much since last year,” Aunt Sarah said as she took some beef from the refrigerator. “For all of us.”

  Annie hesitated a moment. “Are you scared at all?” she asked her aunt.

  “Scared?” Aunt Sarah asked, putting the meat on a cutting board and beginning to slice it into thin strips. “Of what?”

  Annie shrugged. “I was just thinking about something that Kate said the other day,” she said. “She said that if she were you, she’d be a little worried about giving up her independence. You know, with Grayson moving in and all.”

  Aunt Sarah laughed, surprising Annie. When her aunt saw the look on Annie’s face she put down her knife. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just thinking about how that sounds exactly like something I would have said myself when I was your age.”

  “But you don’t feel that way now?” Annie asked her.

  “No,” her aunt replied. “And I’ll tell you why. Independence doesn’t have to mean doing things on your own. You can have a boyfriend or husband or partner and still be very independent. You can have a family and be independent. Your mother was one of the most independent women I’ve ever known, but she was also a totally devoted mother to you and Meg. She made time for herself. She did the things that were important to her. I don’t plan on putting part of myself in storage just because I’m marrying Grayson. I feel as if I’m adding even more to my life by having him—and Becka—in it. It’s the same way I felt when you and Meg came to live here.”

  Annie thought about that. She had never really considered how her aunt’s life must have changed after she and her sister moved in. She’d been very young then, and only worried about herself. Now, though, she found herself wondering how her aunt’s life might have been different had she and Meg never come to live with her. Would she have gotten married earlier? Would she have children of her own? Suddenly, Annie felt a little guilty.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Aunt Sarah said. “And you can just stop. I wouldn’t trade having you and Meg grow up here with me for anything. I miss Peter and Chloe every single day of my life. But I’m also thankful every day of my life that we’re a family. A family that seems to just keep growing,” she added thoughtfully as Meg and Juliet came into the kitchen.

  “Can we help?” Juliet asked.

  “Actually, everything is just about ready to go,” Annie said, giving her aunt a quick hug as she dried her hands on a towel and went to get the tortillas. “Just sit down and I’ll start cooking.”

  Annie fired up the stove and cooked the meat and vegetables, spooning them onto waiting plates as soon as they were ready. When everyone had their fajitas, they sat down and started eating. Soon they were eating and talking, lost in the pleasures of food and conversation.

  When they were done, everyone helped clean up. Then Aunt Sarah went to do some work on a project she was working on for a client, while Meg went to her room to read. Annie and Juliet stayed to finish washing the last few dishes.

  “Can I ask you something?” said Juliet as Annie handed her a dish to dry.

  “Sure,” Annie answered.

  “I’ve been wanting to ask you about your Wicca class,” Juliet said. “But I didn’t want you to think I was being nosy or anything.”

  “No,” said Annie. “It’s okay. What do you want to know?”

  Juliet put the dish away in the cabinet with the others. “I was just wondering—can anyone do it, or do you have to, like, have witch blood or something?”

  Annie laughed. “Witch blood?” she said. “Where did you come up with that?”

  Juliet looked a little embarrassed. “I have this friend,” she said. “I mentioned to her that my sister was into Wicca, and she said that we must have witch blood in our family and that if you do then I do, too.”

  Annie turned off the water and dried her hands. “There are families where being a witch is something that is handed down from parents to children,” Annie said. “But no, that’s not how it usually works. It’s not like inheriting blue eyes or anything like that.”

  “So our mother wasn’t a witch?” Juliet asked.

  Annie sighed. “I can’t answer that,” she said. “I don’t have any reason to think that she was, but you never know. I do know that she painted that picture in my room because she saw a woman standing by my crib when I was a baby.”

  “So you think that you were destined to be a witch?” said Juliet.

  Annie thought about the question for a moment. She was, when it came down to it, a scientist. She liked things that could be explained through experimentation and facts and results. Witchcraft, at least at first glance, was none of those things. It was about intentions, and working with powers that couldn’t be seen, and believing in things that couldn’t be proven. Yet being a part of Wicca had changed her life more dramatically, and more positively, than anything else she could think of. It had helped her make friendships. It had helped her deal with the deaths of her parents. It had reunited her with her sister. It had shown her parts of herself she never knew existed—strengths she had and abilities she could use to change her life for the better.

  “Yes,” she said. “I think I was destined to be a witch.”

  CHAPTER 12

  If I win, it means I’m making the right decision. Kate sat in front of her computer on Sunday afternoon, playing Solitaire. She’d decided that if she won the game she was currently playing, it would be a sign that she’d made the right choice in selecting the Coven of the Green Wood. She very seldom won, so she’d convinced herself that successfully completing a round would be a dramatic portent of good things to come. As she moved the cards around, forming rows and trying to get all of the cards of similar suits stacked onto the four piles at the top of the screen, she tried not to remind herself that Solitaire was largely a game of luck, and that whether she won or not had very little to do with anything other than how the cards had been stacked.

  She was currently stuck. There was a red seven sitting on top of the largest pile, and she knew that the ace of spades she needed desperately to find was underneath it. She needed a black eight to show up so she could move the seven and get things going again. She clicked on the draw pile, turning over three new cards, and saw the eight she needed pop up.

  Perfect, she thought happily, adding the eight to the waiting nine of diamonds and placing the seven of hearts on top of that. And there’s the ace of spades, she cheered. She moved the ace to the remaining open spot and began putting the cards in order. A few plays later, she had completed the hand. She watched as the images of the cards bounced around her computer screen in a celebratory display, then she shut off the program.

  She’d won the game, but somehow it wasn’t the thrill she’d expected it to be. Come on, she ordered herself, now you know you made the right choice. But had she? She had to wonder. Yes, she’d won at Solitaire. But what did that prove? It was just a game. It could just be a stupid coincidence, she admonished hers
elf. You might as well have said that if the phone rings right now it’s a sign.

  The phone rang. Kate looked at it, rolled her eyes, and picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey.” Kate heard Tyler on the other end. He sounded particularly happy.

  “What’s up?” asked Kate, unsure of how to react. It was the first time she’d spoken with Tyler since agreeing to join his coven.

  “Nothing,” Tyler said. “I was just wondering what you were doing.”

  “Oh,” Kate replied. “Well, um, nothing really.” She looked at the computer screen, relieved that Tyler had no way of knowing that she’d been using a stupid card game to justify her decision to join the coven.

  “In that case, want to get together?”

  Kate was caught off guard. Why did Tyler want to get together with her? Was it just simply because—in their own strange way—they’d sort of made up the other night and were friends again? Or did he think there was something more going on?

  “Just to hang out and talk,” he said, as if reading her mind. “It’s not a date or anything.”

  “You got that right,” said Kate, feeling that she needed to reinforce the idea that she and Tyler were most definitely not getting back on the dating track.

  “I was thinking we could meet at the wharf and maybe get coffee or something,” Tyler said, either not caring that she’d snapped at him or choosing to ignore it. “You know, talk about the coven and stuff like that.”

  Kate hesitated. She wasn’t sure that spending a lot of time with Tyler was a good idea at the moment, especially after the long period of separation they’d had. But she did have a few things she wanted to ask him about the coven. And it’s just coffee, she told herself reassuringly.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll meet you at The Last Drop.”

  “Great,” Tyler responded. “See you.”

  Kate hung up. As she changed clothes and prepared to go meet her ex-boyfriend, she thought about all the excuses she could have come up with for not going. It’s almost like you want to see him, just to see what will happen, she told herself sternly.

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said aloud. Things between her and Tyler were over. She was sure of that.

  Then why are you taking your new red shirt out of the closet? Kate looked and saw that she had indeed removed the shirt she’d bought while shopping with her Aunt Netty the week before. Had she really been thinking about wearing it for Tyler? The very idea made her angry, and she put the shirt back immediately, instead deciding to wear a blue one she knew he wasn’t particularly crazy about.

  She hastily applied some lipstick and mascara, resenting the fact that she was putting even that much makeup on. Suddenly she felt that any effort she made to make herself look good was something she was doing for Tyler’s benefit, and she didn’t want to do that. This is just coffee, she repeated to herself as she grabbed her coat and left the house. Get over it.

  Throughout the entire bus ride into town she had to remind herself that meeting Tyler was no big deal, nothing to get excited about. At each new stop she would watch the doors opening and think, You could get out here. You could catch a bus home and just forget about it. But she could never get herself to stand up and walk down the aisle to the door. All she could do was sit and watch the city going by outside her window.

  Finally they reached the wharf and she got off the bus. She saw Tyler standing on the pier, leaning against the railing and looking off into the distance. She walked toward him, not rushing, and when she reached him she leaned up against the railing beside him.

  “What are you looking at?” she asked.

  Tyler turned and smiled at her. “Just the ocean,” he said. “It looks like a storm is coming.” He looked at her for a moment. “Nice shirt,” he added.

  Kate ignored the compliment and looked out to sea. Indeed, the sky was growing darker out where the sky met the water. The waves lapping up against the pilings of the pier were stronger than usual, and farther out she could see whitecaps. Something was indeed coming. We’ll probably have rain tonight, Kate thought vaguely.

  “Ready for some coffee?” asked Tyler.

  Kate shrugged and fell into step beside him as he walked in the direction of The Last Drop. Neither of them said anything as Tyler opened the door and they stepped inside the tiny coffee shop. Kate located a free table and made for it, Tyler in tow. She placed her coat on the back of one of the chairs and sat down. Tyler sat across from her.

  “Well, this feels familiar,” Tyler said, referring to the fact that he and Kate had sometimes come to this very coffee shop when they were dating, usually to discuss a movie they’d just seen or to look at something they’d just bought.

  “I was here the other day with Sasha,” Kate remarked, wanting Tyler to know that he shouldn’t think of The Last Drop as “their” place or anything.

  “What can I get you?” The waiter appeared, making further immediate conversation unnecessary.

  “How about a piece of lemon cheesecake and a cup of peppermint tea,” Tyler said. “Kate?”

  “I’ll have a cup of coffee, black, and a chocolate chip muffin,” Kate told the waiter, who wrote everything down, took their menus, and departed.

  “Black coffee,” Tyler remarked. “That’s a change.”

  Kate nodded. “What can I say?” she replied. “I’m unpredictable.”

  “I won’t argue with that,” Tyler said. “So, are you excited about initiation now that you know which coven you’ll be going for?”

  “I don’t really know what to think about it,” said Kate. “I honestly haven’t thought about it much beyond the part about having to choose a coven. What’s going to happen?”

  Tyler gave her a mysterious smile. “No way,” he said. “I’m not telling you a thing. Half the fun of initiation is not knowing what’s going to happen.”

  Kate wanted to press him some more, but she let it go. To her surprise, she was remarkably uninterested in what was in store for her at initiation. You should be more excited about this, she told herself. But for some reason she wasn’t.

  “I have some questions for you,” she said abruptly, not wanting to think about why her enthusiasm for the approaching ceremony seemed to have faded.

  “Do I need a lawyer?” Tyler asked, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

  “About the coven,” Kate said shortly. “For one thing, do you have full moon rituals every month?”

  “More or less,” Tyler said. “We like to try to have them as close to the actual full moon as possible, and sometimes that just doesn’t work out for one reason or another and we skip a month.”

  Kate nodded. “Do you guys do magic at every circle?” she asked.

  “No,” Tyler said. “In fact, we don’t do a lot of magic in our circles unless there’s a specific thing we’re trying to accomplish. Individual members usually do magical work on their own, and the circles are more for ritual and celebrating the sabbats.”

  “Okay,” said Kate, as if she were an interviewer and his answer had satisfied her. “Are you trying to get me to go out with you again?”

  Tyler’s head snapped back and he looked at Kate in surprise. She looked back, her gaze steady as she refused to back down.

  “Um,” Tyler said, clearly caught off guard.

  “You’d better tell me the truth,” Kate said. “And you have five seconds, otherwise I’m leaving again. Five. Four. Three. Two.”

  “Okay,” Tyler said before she could reach one. “Why did you ask me that?”

  “That’s not an answer,” said Kate. “Time’s up.”

  She stood, but Tyler jumped up and caught her by the wrist. “Just sit down,” he said.

  Kate hesitated a moment, then took her seat. She sat in silence as Tyler sat down and brought his chair closer to the table. He looked uncomfortable, and he kept playing with his napkin, worrying it between his fingers.

  “Maybe I am sort of hoping that you’ll give us another
chance,” he said finally.

  Kate let out a long sigh. “I should have known,” she said.

  “Wait a minute,” said Tyler. “Why am I a bad guy all of a sudden just because I’d like to see us give it a try?”

  “Because you shouldn’t have used the coven to try to get me back,” Kate said.

  Inconveniently, the waiter appeared right at that moment with their orders. Both Tyler and Kate avoided looking at him as he set their cups and plates down. Sensing some tension at the table, the waiter made a quick retreat, after which Kate took a sip of her coffee, not bothering to blow on it to cool it and not caring that it burned her tongue a little.

  “You shouldn’t have said you wanted me in the coven when what you really wanted was to get me to go out with you,” she said.

  “That’s not why I asked you to join the coven,” Tyler protested.

  “You just said—” Kate began.

  “No,” Tyler said, interrupting her. “What I said was that yes, I would like to go out with you again. I didn’t say that I used the invitation to join the coven as a way to get you to do that. If you don’t want to go out with me again, that’s fine. You’ve already made it clear on more than one occasion that you don’t want to. But I still think you’d be a good addition to the coven, and even though it would be hard for me to have you there knowing that you don’t want to be with me, I’d do it because that’s more important than having a date.”

  It was Kate’s turn to be taken aback. “Oh,” she finally managed to say.

  “Did you really think that I would use my coven to try to lure you into some kind of trap?” Tyler asked.

  Kate nodded. “The thought crossed my mind,” she said.

  Tyler leaned back in his chair. “Kate, apart from my family, the coven is the most important thing in my life. I would never use my involvement in it—or in Wicca—to try to get someone to do something she didn’t want to do. You of all people should know how dangerous that is.”