“I think—maybe—there are two different things going on here,” Elizabeth mused.
My grandmother lit up even more, if that’s possible. “This is so exciting! Aren’t you excited, Alice?”
“No! It’s scary and strange and if I can’t figure it out, then things are going to get even weirder.” How many times in a day did I wish something would happen? You know, those random thoughts like I wish it was five so I could go home, or I wish it was Saturday, or…or anything, really. “I could screw things up without even meaning to!”
Grandma huffed. “Screw what up? You should be thrilled. This is our legacy; this is who we are. Grab on with both hands, Alice! Your life will never be the same.”
But that was the problem. I wanted my old life back. I wanted order to prevail. Change was the polar opposite of what I wanted—what I needed. “Can I give it back? Or pass it to someone else?”
“I don’t know,” Elizabeth said. “You can try, but I’m pretty sure you’re stuck with it now.”
A spasm of fear rolled into me. “That’s just terrific. You should have kept this little gift to yourself, Elizabeth.”
“Oh honey, I’m sorry. I was trying to help you, not make things worse. We can figure this out, though. Why don’t you tell us what Miranda said to you? Maybe that will shed some light on why your magic is so different from anything we’ve experienced.”
“She said my daughter was special—”
“You’re having a baby girl! I knew it!” my grandmother exclaimed. “I dreamed about it, you know.”
One question answered. “Ah. That’s how you figured it out. I was going to ask.”
“Go on, Alice,” my sister prodded. “What else did Miranda tell you?”
I repeated her words to them, and then I shuddered. “It’s crazy. I don’t need or want a soul mate. I can raise my child with all the love and guidance she’ll ever need. On my own.”
Elizabeth tipped her head to the side and appraised me. My sister had that look: the one that told me she wasn’t saying something she definitely should say.
“Spit it out.”
Her dark brown eyes bored into mine, searching. “Miranda told me you were having a daughter too. But she also said…” She inhaled a deep breath.
“This is about me and my child, so you better tell me, Liz.” Still, even as I made my demand, a whoosh of lightheadedness had me gripping the arms of my chair.
“She said your child would be the strongest of us all. Stronger than Miranda, even. And that she’d be around to help. So, maybe you don’t want to blow off the soul mate thing. I’ve found Miranda usually knows what she’s talking about.”
Energy, similar to what I’d felt the night before, whipped through the air. It almost buzzed in my ears. “So the ghost is sticking around because of me? And my baby?” Connection or no connection, I wasn’t sure how I felt about sharing the next many years with a long-dead relative. “My daughter’s going to be magical some day, I get that. But unlike me, she’ll know about it long before it affects her.”
“Actually, I’m thinking it might mean she’s magical now. Think about it. Your wishes are different from ours. Maybe it has something to do with how powerful your daughter is…”
Ugh. “Chloe and I had a similar conversation.” Still, I’d pushed that away. With the possibility facing me again, I liked it even less than before.
“There’s one other thing. I didn’t want to mention it…but maybe I should.”
“Yes?” I rubbed my stomach, hoping to ease my queasiness.
“Didn’t Troy say his mother was a witch?”
Oh, hell. Something else I’d already set aside. “Yes…Chloe is looking into it for me.”
Grandma Verda leaned over the coffee table. “Goodness. If that’s true, it means your child has magic from both sides of her family. Oh my.”
“Oh my, indeed. I think that’s why she’s going to be so powerful, Alice.” My sister’s voice was calm enough, but worry was evident in the tight way she held herself. “I’ve thought about it a lot over the last month or so.”
“Maybe if you’d talked to me, rather than only thinking about it, we’d have some answers by now.” The walls closed in around me. Everything spun in circles. “Dizzy,” I whispered, reaching my hand out for support.
My sister’s grasp centered me and helped reel in the craziness, but the room still spun.
“Put your head between your knees.” My sister’s voice sounded far away and foggy, but I did as she asked. Almost at once the spinning slowed.
“Breathe slowly,” my sister instructed.
“This isn’t going so well,” my grandmother said. “Should we call nine-one-one?”
“No! I’ll be fine. It’s getting better.” And yeah, the dizziness was fading—thank goodness! But the rest of it? I had to wonder if anything in my life would ever be fine again.
Magic. Soul mate. Pure love.
God help me.
Chapter Five
I sat at a little round café table at the ice cream shop, waiting for Ethan to show up. Granted, I was way early—like thirty minutes or so—but I couldn’t concentrate on anything at home so figured there wasn’t much sense in staying there. Besides, I’d needed a change of scenery and a quiet place to think. In a big way.
There weren’t many people in the shop. I didn’t know if that was the norm or just a by-product of a rainy Sunday evening, but at the moment it suited me perfectly. I made a mental note to stop in at various times throughout the next week, just to get a better sense of the store’s customer flow. This wasn’t part of my job, at least not officially, but having that information couldn’t hurt. It might even help.
My eyes drifted to the front door again. I fidgeted in my seat. I’d chosen a table on the other side of the room from the one I’d drawn myself sitting at with Ethan, just to be sure no mystical love mojo was at play. Silly? Maybe, but it made me feel better. All I needed was to get through the next hour or so, and then I was meeting my sister and grandmother back at my place.
To discuss the soul mate issue. Apparently, Grandma Verda had some ideas on how to find my soul mate, and she wasn’t taking no for an answer. Unless I wanted her moving in with me, it was smart to at least listen. But no way was I going to go ahead with anything soul mate related.
My stomach roiled with unease. Not just about the magic stuff, or the soul mate stuff, but about seeing and talking to Ethan. I’d decided to take the bull by the horns and bring up my pregnancy on my own. Like a responsible adult. Something I should have done in the interview process but hadn’t because I’d still been reeling from the news.
But after last night, I no longer had a choice. Plus, out of all the things I’d blurted to Ethan, the pregnancy topic was, believe it or not, the one with which I was most comfortable. Maybe if I brought that up, he’d forget the rest. Because how I’d explain a ghost and a time warp to him was beyond me. I didn’t even want to go there. Not just because of my job, but because I really, really didn’t want Ethan to view me as a loon.
Fiddling with the straw in my soda, I tried to come up with the best way to raise the subject. I didn’t allow myself to wonder why Ethan’s opinion of me mattered so much. It just did, plain and simple.
“You look lost in thought,” said the man in question, pulling out the chair across from me. Startled, I twitched slightly in my seat. Lifting my chin, I smiled, trying to look at ease. Of course, that didn’t work so well, because Ethan Gallagher defied the laws of nature. Today, he was even sexier than normal.
He looked as if he’d come straight from a hike or some other outdoor activity. Mussed hair, khaki shorts, and a sort-of-tight, sort-of-rumpled blue T-shirt made my smile widen. He appeared more natural dressed like this, more approachable. Not to mention more real, rather than a perfect specimen of an Irishman. But what really got to me was, instead of the smooth, clean-shaven look I’d become accustomed to, dark stubble—probably about two days’ worth—graced his jawl
ine. So he had that just-tumbled-out-of-bed, sexy-as-sin thing going on. Heaven help me.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” I managed to say. Maybe he looked as if he’d just tumbled out of bed because he had? Was there a woman waiting for him now? I ignored the pang of jealousy that hit, because let’s face it—whom he slept with was none of my business. “I was just wondering if the shop is usually this slow on a weekend evening.” Even with my prior thoughts, the urge to reach across the table and run my finger along his stubble almost overcame me.
I resisted. Barely.
“Good question.” His gray-eyed gaze pinned me, searching. “But before we talk about that, I have another question for you. I’d like you to answer it honestly.”
Great. No beating around the bush for this guy. Time to suck it up and deal, right? Right. Pushing my inappropriate musings aside, I said what needed to be said. “I know what you’re going to ask, so I’ll just answer. Yes, I’m pregnant. I know I should have said something earlier, but, um, well, the father isn’t involved and I’ve been trying to handle everything on my own.” Okay. Not nearly as hard as I’d thought it was going to be. “I’m sorry about that.”
He rubbed a hand over that sexy jaw of his, never taking his eyes from mine. Which, oddly, wasn’t uncomfortable at all. I saw compassion, understanding, and not one iota of pity. That helped me relax a little more.
“That actually wasn’t my question, but now that you brought it up…” Breaking off, he shook his head, as if clearing cobwebs. He opened his mouth again, and then clamped it shut just as fast.
What was it with people not wanting to tell me things lately? It wasn’t like I had FRAGILE, PROCEED WITH CAUTION stamped on my forehead. “Go ahead. You can say it. Whatever it is.”
Uncertainty whisked over his features, which surprised me. In the short time I’d known Ethan, I’d never seen him appear anything but completely in control and comfortable.
“It’s like this.” He exhaled a short breath. “I’ve known about your pregnancy since shortly after you were hired. I’ve been curious about why you didn’t bring it up, but it’s a personal topic, so I wasn’t shocked or put off at all last night.”
He knew? His statement more than perplexed me; it dumbfounded me. “How did you find out?”
“Let’s just say someone told me out of concern for you.”
“Someone told you? Who?”
“I promised I wouldn’t say. But it’s nothing to worry about. Her intentions were the best.”
I mentally went through the list of people who knew, which took like one second, because I’d only told two people. Out of those two, my money was on Chloe—but even that seemed hard to believe. “Chloe?” When he shook his head, I said, “Elizabeth wouldn’t have said anything. I’m positive.”
“That’s your sister, right? The one who owns the bakery?”
“Yes. But how did you know…?” And then, without a shadow of a doubt, I had my answer. “You spoke with my grandmother, didn’t you?”
Now, rather than centering on me, his gaze floated somewhere behind me. But his lips lifted at the corners for just a second. Ha! He’d wanted me to guess. My grandmother hadn’t counted on that. “It was Grandma Verda, wasn’t it?”
“Your grandmother called me a week or so after you started working at Enchanted Expressions. She asked if she could take me to lunch.” His words were slow, and he watched me as if I’d dump my soda on him. You know the look: sort of a worried, what’s-she-gonna-do, and should-I-get-the-heck-out-of-Dodge? kind of expression.
My jaw dropped. My eyes widened. I’m absolutely positive I looked like a gaping fish. “She took you to lunch?” I reminded myself that I loved my grandmother. And then I reminded myself again. Because at that instant, I kind of wanted to throttle her.
Ethan reached over and pushed my soda to the side. It wasn’t necessary. I’m not the type of woman to dump a glass of anything on anyone. But that one little action told me that somewhere in Ethan’s past existed a woman, or women, who’d done that to him. Even in my distress over my grandmother, curiosity flared.
“Yes, she did. Quite a feisty lady, your grandmother.” The grin he’d tried to shield earlier emerged. “She impressed me. Intrigued me too.”
“How long was this lunch? And what did she say?” Out of all the possible topics my grandmother could come up with regarding me, there were maybe only two—tops—I’d be okay with. Even those were a little iffy.
“Several hours, at least. But it wasn’t all about you, so you can stop panicking.”
Stop panicking? Not hardly. “What did you talk about?”
“Irish fairy tales and myths for the most part. Oh, and she asked me if I was a pomegranate. Do you have any idea what she meant by that? I found it the most curious statement.”
Biting my lip, I shook my head. “She’s a little quirky. I hope she didn’t say anything, um, really out there.”
Questions filled the air. “As I said, she had a particular interest in Irish folklore. She also said a few things about magic and ghosts that I found—”
“What things?” She wouldn’t have told him about Miranda. Would she?
“You mentioned ghosts on the phone last night, as well. And a…what was it? Time warp? I take it you’re a believer in the supernatural?”
“Oh. Hmm.” How to answer without lying? Taking a page from Chloe’s book, I went with, “I believe almost anything is possible. There are a lot of things in our world that can’t necessarily be explained by hard cold facts.” And yes, I purposely avoided mentioning anything to do with my short trip to what I assumed was the 1800s.
“I agree with you.”
He didn’t say it, but there was an exception there. I heard it loud and clear. “But?” I prodded.
Those perfect lips of his straightened into a line. “It’s all well and good to believe in fortunes, magic, ghosts, and the like, but when these things lead people to make choices that defy the facts in front of them…” Coldness edged his voice for a millisecond, but then a grin came forth. In a warmer tone, he continued. “It disturbs me. Decisions should never be made based on anything but fact and intuition.”
“But isn’t intuition the same as the unexplained?” Even as I asked, I couldn’t help wondering if he spoke from personal experience.
“Unexplained, maybe. But trusting one’s intuition is quite different from changing your life because of a tarot card or a cheaply bought fortune at a fair.”
Wow. Such passion. Definitely personal experience. What would he think of Miranda’s warning? Would that count as fact, because the warning itself was real? Or would he place it under the “cheaply bought fortune” heading?
Because I couldn’t ask, no matter how much I wanted to, I put the conversation back on track: my loud-mouthed grandmother. “Why did Grandma Verda tell you I was pregnant?”
“She loves you. She just wanted me to be aware that you’re in a fragile condition. She worries about you working such long hours when you’re not used to it, that’s all. Quite innocent, really. And very sweet.”
“Fragile condition? I’m not fragile,” I muttered. “Besides, I’ve always worked long hours, just not like this.” I so couldn’t wait to talk to her later. Of course, I’d have to be careful, because I didn’t want to upset her. But she was going to know this wasn’t something I appreciated. At all.
“I understand that. But don’t be too hard on her.”
“And you…why did you promise you wouldn’t tell me?”
A ruddy flush stole from the top of his angled cheekbones down to the edge of his jaw. For once, he was blushing around me. Kind of cool, even if I wasn’t all that happy about the reason.
“You see, Alice…she sort of sneaked that in. I never saw it coming.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “What can I say? She reminded me of my own grandmother, and I fell for her charms.”
My anxiety disappeared in a flash. A man who could be charmed by a slightly wacky, weirdly dressed elde
rly lady softened everything inside of me. “She is pretty charming. But that doesn’t make it right. It should have come from me.”
“It would have been nice but not necessary. The law protects you on this. Surely you know that.”
“Yes, but it’s about more than that. I was getting around to telling you, really. I just haven’t shared this with most of my family yet.” Which was clearly going to have to happen soon, before Grandma Verda decided to do it for me.
My announcement seemed to startle him. “I assumed your family was close. Is there a reason you haven’t said anything?” As soon as he asked the question, he held a hand up. “Don’t answer that. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry into your personal life. It’s none of my business.”
“I don’t mind.” And weirdly, I didn’t. “I didn’t plan this. The timing hasn’t been right yet. That’s all. But it’s not like I’ll be able to keep it a secret forever.”
The compassion from earlier returned. He reached over, grasped one of my hands, squeezed, and then let go. In the less than ten seconds our hands touched, a glimmer of something passed between us. Desire? Yes, but something more. And since I barely knew this man, it more than confused me. It scared the hell out of me.
Suddenly, the moment became too much. In an effort to bring the conversation around to the less personal, I said, “So, what was the question you were going to ask me before I jumped the gun?”
He hadn’t anticipated the change of topic; that was evident by the flicker of light that hit his stormy gray eyes. But he went with it, no questions asked. Well, except for one.
“Oh. Right.” He cleared his throat. “Is something going on with Missy that I should know about? I’ve noticed there seems to be some type of friction between the two of you.”
Yep. The man noticed the details. “I have no idea. I don’t have a problem with her, but she sure doesn’t like me. Or at least that’s my impression. Has she said anything to you?”
“She hasn’t. But her behavior is unusual. The entire time I’ve known Missy, she’s proven herself a valuable employee, happy to work with others, and has thrived in our team environment.” He scrunched his eyebrows together in thought. “I hope everything’s okay. I’ll have a chat with her later this week.”
A Stroke Of Magic Page 7
