The sister witches were going home to the Great Plaines.
Chapter 10
The flight home was relatively uneventful. They were delayed, of course, but Anona said that rarely does a flight either leave from or arrive to the Philadelphia airport on time, so an extra forty-five minutes was nothing to complain about. They were met at the airport by their parents, as well as Gavin and Victoria, who looked more excited to see the two of them than Mirabelle had ever seen.
“Thank GOD you’re back.” Victoria complained instantly. “You have no idea what it’s like being stuck home with Gavin.” She hugged both her sisters. Gavin rolled his eyes and half-hugged Mirabelle and Anona.
“We are so happy to be home!” Anona said, cheerful as ever.
The next three days were a flurry of shopping, baking, finishing decorating the tree (their mom left their special ornaments for them to hang), and catching up. Victoria did not love eighth grade (“I am so sick of my school!”). Gavin was actually enjoying sophomore year, and seemed to have hit a stride with both his schoolwork and his basketball game. Their parents were good; Mirabelle found herself easily sliding back into life at home, and her newfound witchhood shifting to the background. She had brought Johannah’s book home, but for now decided instead to curl up with a good piece of fiction.
Two days after Christmas, James showed up at the house. First, he called three times, Mirabelle refusing to speak to him each time. Apparently he took that as “I would like you to come over,” as he appeared at the door. In true faux-hipster fashion, he arrived with a bouquet of holly and ivy, which was meant to be romantic, but made Mirabelle think he had stolen his mother’s centerpiece.
“What do you want, James?” Mirabelle asked. She stood next to him on the front porch, shivering. She had refused to let him in, and left her coat off so she wouldn’t be tempted to talk long.
“I miss you. I miss my Mirabelle.” James pleaded.
“I don’t care. You cheated on me, you admitted to cheating on me, you asked permission to cheat on me, and I said no. There’s nothing to discuss. We aren’t even living in the same state anymore.” Mirabelle explained calmly.
“You need to take me back; I’ve never met anyone like you. I thought I would find myself in other girls, and believe me I’ve tried. But you, you are the only match I’ve ever found.” James tried to sneak his hand over hers, but Mirabelle slapped it away.
“First off, don’t tell me you’ve been looking for yourself in other girls. A true man would pine after me! You would be devastated that we were apart. You weren’t. Neither was I. Let it pass.”
“I can’t.” James continued. He leaned against the door, his eyes searching the sky. “I need you. There’s… a spark. I’m missing the spark since we’ve been apart. You have a life in you, I can’t describe it, and I probably sound crazy. You are magic.” Mirabelle felt her face turn red. Could James sense her powers? He was an artistic soul, Anona said as much. Maybe he was just more sensitive to it.
“You bet your ass I am. And you get none of it.” Mirabelle smirked. “I’m with Matthew now.” She was lying, but she didn’t care. “And he fucks great. Best I’ve ever had.” Mirabelle slipped back inside and slammed the door before she burst out laughing. She heard the bouquet hit the door and James stomp down the stairs.
“Screw you, Mirabelle!” He shouted, loud enough that she knew the neighbors were pricking up their ears. “I’d rather have Anona anyways!”
“Well, that’s lovely.” Anona said, walking into the hall. “I need to up my anti-muse spells, apparently.”
“Anona! Shh!” Mirabelle whispered. “What if someone heard you?” Anona smiled.
“Then we might just have to come out of the closet,” she replied, winking. “Come on, let’s watch The Secret of Roan Inish with Victoria. And, I like the lie you threw in at the end, really rubbing salt in the wound.”
“How do you know it’s a lie?” Mirabelle countered.
“Because if it was true, you never would have said it.” She paused. “Just imagine James, poor little artist, getting bested by the strong farmer.” Anona sighed. “Oldest story in the book. Women like a guy with rough hands and a strong back. We’re so predictable.”
“He’s a warlock, too.” Mirabelle added, smirking.
“Yes, he is. Ah, imagine the phenomenal sex magic.” Anona raised her eyebrows. “Just imagine it.”
Mirabelle missed Matthew. They had only kissed twice, and once she had been under the influence of the Fae, but it was more than the electric feeling that shot through her body when they touched. She missed talking to him. She missed his enthusiasm over mythology and the fair stubble usually found on his chin. She wanted to watch him soothe the sheep and fix the broken hinge on the barn door. In truth, she wanted to tackle him the next time she saw him. The longer she was away, the more Mirabelle knew she wanted to be with Matthew and the further and further James wilted away.
Mirabelle snuggled up in her own bed, under mounds of down and flannel. She read The Welsh Girl, a book Anona had said she must read. It was not homework for her witchhood, but a pleasure read, and so far, she was finding it riveting and wonderful.
“You are happy.” Her mom broke in, sliding to sit next to her.
“I am. Staying with Anona was a good plan.” Mirabelle said. In that moment, she realized that she had made the right decision. She was meant to go to Pennsylvania. When she originally made the choice, she worried that taking at least a year off of college would constantly loom over her, but she felt at peace with it now.
“Farm work suits you. You look better than you ever have before, so much more alive. No wonder James is so broken up over you.” Mirabelle blushed.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” She apologized.
“I’m sorry Mrs. Yolles had to hear that. She’s going to be shocked for weeks.” Her mother joked. “But me? I’m glad you are rid of that asshole. Never liked him.” Mirabelle burst out laughing. Her mother rarely swore, but this seemed like the perfect opportunity for the occasion.
“Now, to have the discussion you are no likely dreading: plans for next year?” Her mom hinted.
“Ah, yeah.” Mirabelle hadn’t really thought about it. But, it made sense. If she wanted to get into a school for next year, she needed to apply now.
“I’m going to reapply to Villanova. Maybe apply to Penn State, maybe even Swathmore. There’s school near Anona called Franklin and Marshall. If I went there I could still live with her.” She made the decision at that moment.
“It seems Pennsylvania has ensnared you.” Her mom wrapped her arms around Mirabelle. “Are all my babies going to leave me for the Keystone State?”
“Anona’s farm… it just speaks to me. That sounds stupid, but it does.”
“It’s a magical place.” Her mother’s eyes twinkled and, for a moment, Mirabelle thought she knew. Maybe she didn’t know plainly, but she was magical. She must feel something when she stepped on the land; she had to. The magic was in her soul too.
“All right, my darling. I will leave you to your reading.” She planted a hard kiss on Mirabelle’s forehead like she was a little girl again. “Sweetest dreams.”
Like most kids her age, Mirabelle spent her winter break sleeping, eating, and rarely putting on real clothes. She watched movies with Gavin and Victoria, ate as much junk food as she could stomach, and took a one-hour shower every day. She did set aside one day to look at the application essays she would need to fill out, and made a mental note that once she was back in Pennsylvania, she needed to spend a few days knocking them out. Obviously, she was going to write about living and working on a farm; she just needed to tweak her experiences to make them answer the specific question. And leave out the rouge Fae, witchcraft, and sexual tension.
Chapter 11
“Six weeks until the maple syrup harvest.” Anona mentioned offhandedly. They were driving back to the farm from the airport. Anona had parked her truck at the airport and paid t
he exorbitant overnight fees for the three weeks they were gone because she hated cabs. Mirabelle thought it was a little ridiculous, but she let her sister have her eccentricities.
“So six weeks until I have to start really working hard again?” Mirabelle put her socked-feet up on the dashboard. After hours of her toes crammed into her boots during the flight, she needed some respite.
“Not really hard. Different. And, six more weeks until Matthew is back at the farm every day. His family doesn’t harvest syrup, so he’s all ours.” Anona giggled. “And by ours, I mean, he will be tending to my trees, and most likely your baser needs.” Instead of reprimanding Anona for being weird, Mirabelle laughed loudly. She hoped it was true.
It was strange coming home to an empty house at night. The animals were in the barn, having been safely watched over by Matthew and Michael the entire time they were gone. Matthew had called Anona after his last check a few hours ago. All was well.
Anona pulled up straight to the front porch. The land was still covered in a deep thick blanket of snow, but someone had kindly shoveled the steps and a nice path across the porch to the front door. The sisters shuffled inside, schlepping their bags behind them.
“YES!” Anona exclaimed. The heat was going full blast, welcoming them to a warm house, rather than one that had been set at 55 for the past three weeks (just warm enough to keep Hedgie from going mad and the pipes from bursting).
“Tea?” Mirabelle asked, setting down her bag and heading straight to the kettle.
“Of course. Hmmm, January has begun; I want something spicy, but different than the last few months… I will take Chai Tea with milk, brown sugar, and vanilla.”
“Sounds perfect, I will be having the same.” And with that, the sister witches snuggled under blankets and drank their Chai Teas. They talked about all the witchy things they had kept to themselves the last week. Anona had noticed a new “glint” in Victoria’s eyes this trip, and she swore that Gavin had spoken Latin under his breath. Mirabelle didn’t notice any of that, but she did notice her mother’s talismans covering their house. She had never noticed that the hand painted signs over each of their bedroom doors really acted as a threshold guardian. They each had a handmade quilt on their beds and a plethora of knitted gifts in their closets. Their mom might not know she was a witch, but her gifts were so powerful they could not help but be released. Mirabelle came back to the farm with a new sweater, hat, knit cuff, and socks. She was very excited to have some new protective gear to replace her always worn scarf.
She wanted to call Matthew, but they weren’t really a talk on the phone relationship. She wanted to tell him she missed him and hope he felt the same, but she didn’t want to come off as desperate. She went to bed hoping he would stop by tomorrow.
Mirabelle dreamt of kissing Matthew. More than that, she dreamt that when she kissed him, it was so consuming that the world erupted around them into a burst of purple light. She awoke wondering if that was a good or bad sign, and decided it was probably time for her to get a book on dream decoding.
That morning, she stumbled out of bed and to the bathroom, not quite awake. She heard Anona in the kitchen, but decided to brush her teeth and get straight into the shower. The water helped shake her out of the still lingering dream, which was clouding her mind.
Her shower was a quick one, just enough to cover all the important things, without any of the add-ons (when would she shave her legs again? Spring or when she started showing her bare legs to Matthew.). She combed her hair, gave it a quick dry with the towel, and wrapped herself up to go back to her room. She stepped out into the hallway and stopped.
“Hi.” Matthew stood right in front of her. Alone. No sign of Anona, or even Hedgie, anywhere. Damn it, she should have shaved her legs.
“Hi.” Mirabelle answered stupidly. Even more, she should have blown her hair dry, maybe even thrown on some dark come-hither eye make-up, and while she was making wishes, thrown on some sexy lingerie, which she didn’t own.
“You are back.”
“You are in my house. And I am in my towel.” They both felt the need to state the obvious. “I missed you.” She tested out. Relief washed over Matthew’s face.
“I missed you, too. I wanted to call you, but I wasn’t sure if it would have been weird. I mean, would I call your parents’ house? Should I introduce myself to them over the phone? I… I’m rambling.” He smiled. Mirabelle laughed, but only for a moment before Matthew crushed his mouth against hers. She wrapped a hand around his neck, leaving one keeping her towel up. Matthew pulled her waist against him, bringing her up to her tiptoes in his embrace. The world wasn’t exploding, but all Mirabelle’s senses were. The Fae-influenced kiss was electric, but this was something more. It was a deep, blushing, tingle that felt like it would last forever. When Matthew broke away, Mirabelle whimpered a little.
“Don’t stop,” she said, kissing his cheek.
“You are in your towel and Anona could walk back in at any moment. She’s just checking the animals. Why don’t you get dressed, and then we can talk.” Mirabelle wanted to argue, but she didn’t want to deal with Anona walking in on anything. She speedily threw on jeans and a white long-sleeve, tousling her wet hair as best she could without a comb or mirror.
Matthew’s warlock powers may have something to do with pre-cognition, because when Mirabelle burst back into the kitchen, Anona was walking in the door.
“Ah! You’re up! Good. We can all talk.” Anona motioned for all three of them to sit around the table. “Matthew, have you decided anything about your newfound knowledge? Would you like to pursue a greater knowledge to what powers you might possess? Do you want to forget it happened? Do you want to run in the other direction as fast and far away from us as possible?” Please, not the last one, Mirabelle wished.
“Not any of those things at the moment.” Matthew answered slowly. “I’d like to explore a sort of holding pattern, for the moment.”
“Care to elaborate?” Mirabelle cut in.
“I think I’ll eventually want to know more, but I don’t right now. I’m going to just see what happens. Maybe in the spring I’ll change my mind. I’d like to have a quiet winter.” He explained. “But, I would also like to formally begin dating Mirie.” He threw in at the end.
Mirabelle’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. What was this, 1850? He was announcing that he wanted to court her? Was she supposed to swoon?
“Okay.” Mirabelle finally said. “I would like to date you, too, but I would also like to leave Anona out of this.” Anona just sat with a stupid grin on her face, much to Mirabelle chagrin.
“May I take you to dinner tonight? It will be a drive, but we would have a chance to talk alone.” Matthew asked.
“Yeah, you don’t have to be a southern gentleman from pre-Civil War times to ask me out on a date. Just, you know, ask, or whatever.” Mirabelle explained.
Satisfied with her answer, Matthew left. Now, Mirabelle just had hours to kill between now and her impending dinner date at 6. She also had to throw together some sort of date outfit from her mountains of jeans and t-shirts. She had brought one nice outfit, a gray sweater and a black skirt that seemed more appropriate for a job interview or a funeral than a date.
“Do you want to borrow something?” Anona finally asked, after Mirabelle had tried on every top she owned with the black skirt.
“I don’t think any of your stuff will fit me.” Anona was an hourglass, with the emphasis on the top, while Mirabelle’s ass rivaled the most apple-bottomed girls.
“Try this.” Mirabelle nearly burst out laughing with her sister’s suggestion. Anona held out a black lace long sleeved maxi dress. It was perhaps the witchiest thing she had ever seen.
“Shall I wear a black pointed hat as well?” Mirabelle took the dress. It was a beautiful piece of clothing.
“No, but you should wear your black boots and perhaps a few silver pieces of jewelry to accent the outfit. Before you say anything, just try it on.” Ano
na convinced.
Mirabelle did what her sister said. She put on her only black bra with a semi-matching pair of panties. Neither were fancy; both were cotton. She slipped the dress over her head. Besides her prom dress, it was the fanciest thing Mirabelle had ever worn. With a silver crescent moon pendant and her trusted Cladagh ring, she emerged from the room.
“Perfect.” Anona commented while Mirabelle examined herself in the full-length bathroom mirror.
“I’m not going to lie: I look good enough to screw. Or at least to raise a few demons from hell with.”
“Have fun with Matthew.” Anona handed her the new protection wristlet. “Try not to upset the balance of the realm.”
“You look very pretty.” Matthew said slowly and steadily once Mirabelle peeled her coat off. They would be dining at TGI Fridays. It was the closest restaurant that wasn’t fast food, and they were getting a booth. Romantic enough, in Mirabelle’s book.
“Thank you. You look handsome.” She answered, and he did. Matthew had on a regular button-down shirt (not flannel) and a pair of jeans that didn’t smell like animals. He also brushed his hair and shaved his face, though Mirabelle didn’t mind his days-old scruff that usually ran along his jaw line.
They were the only young couple there on a date. The restaurant also held two couples in their sixties, a family of six, and a junior high girl’s basketball team. Apparently they had won some tournament and were celebrating.
“How was home?” Matthew began. It seemed a pretty standard to the start of a date.
“It was good. Nice to see my parents and Gavin and Victoria. Slept a lot, ate a lot.” Mirabelle laughed.
“Did you see any of your friends from high school?”
“Not really,” Mirabelle explained. “I don’t know, I guess I didn’t really feel like it? High school feels closed. Maybe in the summer.” A few friends had invited Mirabelle out for New Year’s, but she wanted to stay home with her family. She felt very disconnected from them all, not only from their being in college and her working on a farm, but also from her new witchhood knowledge.
Welcome to Witchhood (Sister Witches Book 1) Page 11
