Wetness on my face surprised me. I brushed the tears away with my fingertips, and as I did, a heady swirl of sensations swept into me, through me. Once again, I was her, but I was still me too. This time, a light of hope took center stage, instead of anger, instead of retribution. This hope mixed with happiness, and while the sadness still existed, it wasn’t the all-consuming, gnawing pain of earlier.
Miranda stood and paced the small space, her arms never leaving her stomach. Even if I couldn’t feel what she felt, the expression on her face, the brightness in her eyes, would have told me all I needed to know. Whatever hex she’d almost placed on the man who’d hurt her, who’d abandoned her, was forgotten. Now, all that was in her mind, in her heart, was her unborn baby. A daughter. Her daughter.
Through Miranda’s mind, I saw her daughter as a baby just born. And then, I saw her daughter, and then the next. This last daughter was my great-grandmother, whom I only knew from pictures; and then came my grandmother, my mother and my sister, along with other women I didn’t recognize but somehow knew to be family, connected to me in some form or fashion. They all appeared before me at lightning speed, in a vision that didn’t make any sense. At the tail end, another baby appeared, and I saw her grow into a little girl. She had big brown eyes and chubby cheeks, and a smile that melted my heart. In barely a breath, I knew who she was.
My daughter.
I hadn’t thought I was ready to see an image of my child, but now? I wanted to stare at her, memorize every detail, and pull her into my arms; but the vision abruptly ended, leaving me with an ache—an empty place deep inside—and it hurt like nothing I’d yet known. Miranda’s lips moved again. The power returned, and while it was just as strong as before, it didn’t scare me. It didn’t fill me with foreboding or urge me to scream out warnings. Instead, it washed over me in a hazy glow, like a rainbow appearing after a storm on a sunny day. This display of power had an enchanted feel—without darkness, without evil.
As her lips continued to move, the colors grew brighter, the power stronger. I watched, once again completely enthralled. While I couldn’t hear her voice, I heard her thoughts as if she spoke them directly to me.
A gift, from daughter to daughter, to be passed on through the generations. The gift of magic. My gift. My magic. My daughters. My legacy.
Somehow, I understood that this was the message I was meant to hear. But even with that knowledge, I couldn’t quite grasp it fully. It hovered there like a pesky mosquito I couldn’t squash, evading me at every turn. Before I could give it any further thought, the scene below me changed yet again. The colors and the energy still swirled together, like a rainbow whipping around at top speed, but the colors strengthened in hue to a brilliance I couldn’t see through. Shielding my eyes with one hand, I tried to see past the glare, past the brightness, to no avail. My eyes watered, the wetness seeping out, dripping down my cheeks.
Ringing filled my ears. Loud, obtrusive, it went on and on. I cringed at the sharpness of the noise and moved my hands to cover my ears. At first I didn’t recognize the sound, because it didn’t belong in this place, in this time. The second I realized what the sound was, everything in front of me, everything around me, stopped, as if I’d hit the pause button on my DVD player.
The energy pulled at me, tugged at me, and with one hard yank I was only myself again, on my couch, clutching the rose petal in my fist. The phone still rang, blaring through the room incessantly. My sister? It had to be. And for that, I was grateful.
With a trembling hand, I reached for it. “What took you so long? You won’t believe what happened.” My voice came out in a rush, the words merging so that they were almost incomprehensible. I inhaled deeply and gave it another go. “I need you to come over here now. No ifs, ands, or buts. Just do it.” After a thought I added, “Please.”
When she didn’t answer immediately, my exasperation climbed to a whole new level. “Are you there? Why didn’t you tell me about Miranda? And the gift?”
Still no reply. And really, the fact she hadn’t answered should have been enough to clue me in that I’d been mistaken about the caller’s identity. Sadly, it didn’t. I was too preoccupied for coherent thought. “Elizabeth?”
“Have I phoned at a bad time?” The sexy Irish drawl held a bit of humor, along with a touch of concern.
Heat rushed my face, embarrassment that somehow had become the norm around this man. “Oh. You’re not Elizabeth. Sorry, Ethan,” I managed to mumble. “What can I do for you?”
“You sound a little a distracted. Are you all right?” The timbre of his voice helped soothe my agitation. Not something I expected, but I appreciated it.
“I’m fine. Just—um—a little busy at the moment. What’s up?” My phone beeped, signaling another call. This time, it was my sister. Finally. “Oops, I have another call. Can you hold for a sec?”
“Of course. Take your time,” he said.
I pushed the button. “I’ve been waiting forever for you to call.”
“Sorry, sis. My cell ran out of juice and we were at Nate’s parents’ this evening. You said something about Miranda?”
People who didn’t know my sister as well as I do wouldn’t have heard more than a faint twinge of curiosity in her voice. But after years of sharing—and keeping—secrets, I heard the Oh my God, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this forever. And that little nuance calmed me even more. She would have my answers. She would understand the weirdness. I was sure of it.
“She showed up here tonight. A lot of crazy stuff happened that I’d rather talk to you about in person, so when can you come over?”
“What kind of crazy stuff?”
“Elizabeth! You’ve been holding out on me. You and Grandma. Don’t you think I should have known our great-great-great-grandmother’s ghost pays house calls to her relatives? And drags them out of their time to visit her in her time?”
Elizabeth sighed, long and plaintively, as if she’d been the one secrets were kept from. “I know we should have told you, but I didn’t expect her to just show up. What did she say? And what do you mean she dragged you to her time?”
“Like a time warp. Seriously. I visited Miranda in her time.” My phone beeped again, reminding me that Ethan still waited. “Hold on. I was on the other line when you called.”
“Okay. But are you sure this time-warp thing really happened? You are pregnant, you know, and hormones can do crazy things. Maybe the visit from Miranda spooked you enough that you dreamed the rest?”
“Just hold on!”
I switched back over. “Hey, Ethan. I think this call might take a few minutes. Can I call you back?”
“Actually, all I wanted to know was if we could go to Frosty’s tomorrow after dinner, instead of at two. Does that work for you?”
I was about to say yes, but then I figured I’d better check with Elizabeth first. A nice, lengthy, face-to-face chat with her and my grandmother was most definitely in order—not to mention way overdue—so I didn’t want any scheduling conflicts. “Um. Probably. Let me make sure, though.”
I clicked the button. “This was not a pregnant hallucination dream thing! How can you believe in ghosts and not a time warp?”
Nothing but silence met my ears, followed by a long, slow intake of breath. That’s when I realized I might have made a mistake. “Elizabeth?” Please, please be Elizabeth, I prayed.
“Nope. Still Ethan.”
I waited for him to say something else, anything else, but he didn’t. He was probably trying to decide how crazy I actually was. “I’m really sorry. You shouldn’t have heard that. Can we just forget all about it? Would that be possible in any way whatsoever?”
He cleared his throat. “Let’s agree to set it aside for now, but we’ll come back to it at a later date. Will that work well enough?”
No. “Um. Sure. I guess.”
“Good. We’re in agreement. About tomorrow?”
I still hadn’t checked with Elizabeth, but no way, no how, was I
chancing mis-clicking a second time. “I think after dinner will be fine. Around six or seven?”
“Let’s say seven. And Alice?”
“Yes, Ethan?” I braced myself, waiting for the pregnancy question. Because it was bound to come. And now, because of my big mouth, it was going to happen sooner than I’d planned. Chicken? You bet.
“Do you want to ride with me or do you want to meet me there?”
“Meet you.” Then, worried that I might have sounded rude, I said, “I’ll be out around then anyway. Easier on me.”
He hung up and I swallowed in relief. I knew it wouldn’t last long, but I was happy for the delay while I had it. I clicked back to my sister. “I’m sorry it took me so long. No, it wasn’t a dream. Yes, it really happened. I’d prefer to talk about it with you and Grandma at once, though.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t do that to me! I want to hear everything. Just tell me!”
I was tempted. Really, really tempted. But I was also exhausted. As much as I wanted answers—all of them—my body wanted to sleep. And I didn’t think my brain would process much of anything until I did. “How about tomorrow morning? Instead of going out for brunch, come here for breakfast. And bring Grandma Verda with you.”
Another wounded sigh floated through the phone line. “Fine. We’ll be there at nine. You better have coffee made when we get there! And not that instant crap, either.”
I promised I would and then disconnected the call. With a sigh reminiscent of my sister’s, I curled up on the couch again. I thought about what Miranda had shown me, and I was pretty sure I understood her message. The magic—the wishes—were a gift she’d created for her daughters, and it seemed now I had it. I didn’t get how it worked, but at least part of the picture was clear. The rest would come into focus soon enough.
Weirdly, though, I wasn’t nearly as surprised about the entire revelation as you’d expect. Rather, it was as if a cloud I’d always known existed had finally been lifted. The magic itself didn’t scare me as much as it had before, either. But even so, I wasn’t so sure I wanted it. What I did want, though, was to know everything about it. Every last detail.
On the top of my need-to-know list was finding out who else in my family had experience with it, and why I hadn’t been told about it before. I mean, really, shouldn’t I have known my entire life? Yes. If for no other reason than to be prepared when it arrived.
Maybe my family hadn’t learned that lesson, but I certainly had. And that was one thing that was going to change here and now. No more secrets.
Beginning with my daughter.
“So that’s the story.” I sipped my tea, now lukewarm. I’d decided to tell my grandmother and sister about everything that had occurred, so they could fill in the blanks.
“Wow,” Elizabeth said. “Something similar happened to me, but instead of seeing Miranda’s past, I saw my own. With Marc.”
“Ew. Let’s not bring him up.” My sister had made her peace with her ex-husband, but I never would. He’d broken her heart, walked out on her, and then had the gall to hire her bakery to make his wedding cake—for his wedding to the woman with whom he’d cheated on her.
“Water under the bridge. Besides, my magic started with Marc.”
Now I was interested. “That’s when you got your witch powers?”
“Not witchcraft. Gypsy magic.” Grandma Verda’s eyes shone. “Miranda was a gypsy, and the gift she passed on to us has nothing to do with witchcraft.”
“Oh. Wow.” The cloud lifted a bit more. “But why was she trying to curse the father of her baby? I didn’t understand that part of it, other than he’d hurt her.”
“When she told him she was pregnant, he revealed that he was married, and wanted to take the baby from her to be raised in his home,” said Grandma.
Pain sliced through me fast and hard. While different in some ways from my experience with Troy, it was also eerily similar. The lies. The betrayal. An invisible thread of unity existed between me and my great-great-greatgrandmother, tying us together in a way I’d never known with anyone else. “That sucks. But how does it work?”
Grandma Verda gave a small smile. “The magic is different for each of us, and each of us can manifest it in different ways, but it’s about wishes.”
“Wishes? Like three wishes from a genie, only there’s no limit?” I asked.
“Well, close. While there isn’t a limit, not all wishes come true.” Grandma’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Miranda had far more power than any of us, so maybe she had more luck with that than we have. Her magic also extended beyond wishes. But for us, for everyone that’s followed…our magic has been solely about wishes. Mine was in my writing. Elizabeth’s was in her baking. I’m assuming yours will be through your artwork, like my grandmother’s was.”
I thought about it, then shook my head. “I don’t think so. The wishes that have worked? All I did was think them. No art involved. And they were completely accidental.” I filled them in on my wish experience thus far.
Elizabeth frowned. “That’s strange. It’s never worked like that before.”
“It worked that way for Miranda,” I pointed out.
“Well, yeah, but she’s the source. The beginning. My magic is only there if I put it into something I bake and then someone eats it. That’s how I gave you the magic, Alice. I wished to pass it on to you when I baked that lemon meringue pie for you last month.”
“Wait. You’re telling me you gave me magic via a pie?”
“And like any gift you give someone else, ownership changes hands, so to speak, and it becomes uniquely connected to the receiver,” Grandma Verda interjected. “So neither I nor Elizabeth has it any longer. Only you.”
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Er. Well. That’s changing.”
Grandma’s razor-sharp gaze turned to her. “What do you mean? You still have it?”
“I do. I was going to tell you, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Miranda said I was the first in the family who was strong enough to keep it and pass it on, and that it would continue that way from now on.”
“Well, I think that’s delightful news. How wonderful, the magic is growing and changing!” Excitement tinged Grandma’s cheeks pink.
“I’m more confused now than I was before. What the heck is happening with the gift now that I have it? Can you answer that?” I said.
Grandma gripped my hand. “I don’t know, sweetie. I wouldn’t worry about that just yet, as time will tell. But there is something you should be aware of with wishes.”
I braced myself. “What now?”
“Just that magic is unpredictable. Crazy things can happen, so use caution.”
“Trust her on this. I almost ended a few friendships and ruined a life or two because I screwed up some of my wishes,” Elizabeth said.
“Trust me. I plan on striking the word ‘wish’ from my vocabulary. At least until I understand this more.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Well, I made a wish before I even knew about the magic—and it came true. In fact, you were the one who told me it came true, Alice.”
“Really? What was it?”
She blushed. I rarely see my sister change colors, so it amused me immensely, and that amusement helped ease my tension. “Remember the day you overheard that girl in the gym talking about Marc’s honeymoon?”
“Oh.” It took a second, but when it hit, I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “When Marc couldn’t get it up?” I loved that my practical-to-the-core sister had wished that for her ex on his wedding night. Priceless. “That’s awesome. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“But that’s why you need to be careful. The thing with Marc worked out okay, but really, I was lucky. Magic can be fun and empowering, but dangerous too.”
Something else came to mind. “Did you cast a spell on Troy, like he thought? When he got so ill?”
Her lips twitched. “That was me. He’d hurt you. It made me mad, so I tried to fix it.”
“God
, Elizabeth. He was in a lot of pain. I mean, thank you for wanting to protect me, but that’s a little scary.”
“Not as scary as he is. He came to the bakery one day, trying to get back the money he paid you. I scared him off.” She twisted her fingers together. “Don’t be angry with me. I did what I felt was necessary.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that Troy would stoop to such a level, but I was. Even after everything that had happened, I had a difficult time reconciling the man he actually was with the man I’d thought him to be. Though I knew one thing for certain: I hadn’t loved him. Not really.
“I’m not angry.” I pushed Troy out of my head. “Let’s get back on track. My wishes don’t seem to be connected to anything in particular, and certainly not to my artwork.” I gasped when another thought hit. “Maybe something did happen, but not like you’ve explained.”
“But something has? What?” That came from my sister.
“I was working on a sketch for an ad campaign, and I drew me and my boss sitting at a table as a couple at Frosty’s Ice Cream Shoppe. Later, over lunch, he asked me to go there with him. But that’s not the same.”
“Did you wish you’d go there with him when you were drawing it?” asked my sister.
“Not exactly. I was lonely and wishing someone would ask me to lunch or something, but I’m not sure. I was in the zone.” But then I realized. Ethan had asked me to lunch that day. Did that mean it was only a wish-induced invitation? Ick. I hated that thought.
A tiny grin popped up on my grandmother’s face. “Do you have a crush on him?”
I ignored the whisper of desire that teased at me. “He’s cute. And really nice. I haven’t thought about him in that way, if that’s what you mean.” Just a little lie.
A Stroke Of Magic Page 6
