I reminded myself what my objectives were. Not only did I need to judge what sort of person Troy’s mother was, but there was that whole magic thing to contend with. Was she or wasn’t she?
Beatrice smiled, her round cheeks puffing out, the skin around her eyes crinkling into myriad little lines. “She must like you; she normally runs and hides when guests are here.”
I didn’t want to chitchat, so I forged ahead. “Missy said you want to be a part of the baby’s life. I’m slightly uncomfortable with that idea. What with the way things are with Troy.”
The woman seated herself, lacing her fingers together on her lap. “I understand that,” she said, “but I’m not my son, and I haven’t done anything wrong to you—or to the child, have I?”
“Well, no, but…” I glanced at Ethan, and then back to Beatrice. “Look, I’m just going to put this out there and get it over with.” One deep breath, and then, “Troy said you’re a witch, and that you used to put horrible spells on him when he was younger so that he’d behave.”
Ethan flinched next to me but stayed quiet. I kept my attention firmly on Beatrice. Her left eyebrow arched in either humor or interest, but she didn’t appear surprised or annoyed by my blunt question. Rather, she seemed to appreciate my forthrightness. “Oh, he told you that, did he?”
I lifted my chin. “Yes, he did. Is it true?”
Ethan sucked in a breath. His arm tensed.
Beatrice continued to stare at me, but she didn’t speak. The silence grew uncomfortable, awkward, and I was about to suggest we leave when she slowly shook her head. “You’re an interesting one, Miss Alice Raymond. I’ll give you that. But to answer your question: No, I’m not a witch. I never bespelled my son, though I did tell him that on occasion—to keep him in line. He was a difficult boy to raise.”
“So you don’t have any magic? None at all?” The question flew from my mouth before I could edit it.
Tilting her head, her amber eyes deepened a shade. “I didn’t say that. I’m not a witch. What I am is a woman with a minute amount of power. My mother had more, my grandmother even more, but it’s become diluted over the years. It’s nothing to be afraid of. I can’t do anything to you, Alice…if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“What kind of power?” I asked. She remained quiet, which frustrated me. “What can you do?”
Ethan shifted, leaning over slightly so I could see his face. “Alice, are you sure you want to have this particular discussion right now?” he asked softly. “Maybe it would be best to start off with normal…er, easier…topics, until you get to know each other a little. Like the weather, or your favorite television programs? Or even work?”
His strain came through loud and clear. Maybe bringing him with me had been a bad idea. My reasons had seemed sound at the time; I’d figured I could gauge what his reaction would be if I were to tell him about my family, about my own powers. But it was too late now to secondguess myself.
“I know this is awkward,” I said to him. “I’m sorry, but Troy said things I need answers to. It’s okay if you want to wait in the car, but I’d like to finish this conversation.”
Doubt and something else—worry?—appeared in his eyes. He shook his head and said, “Why am I attracted to women like you? There are perfectly normal women all around, but I seem to be hooked on the unusual.”
If he hadn’t said the words lightly, and with a grin, I would have been concerned. Really, really concerned. But because he had, I smiled back. “I guess because you’re smarter than the average bear,” I teased.
Another flash of confusion. “What?”
I laughed. “It’s a Yogi Bear thing. Never mind.”
Beatrice cleared her throat. “Would you like my answer now, or should I wait for the young man to leave?”
Turning toward her, I gestured for her to continue. My skin itched with nerves. Whoever, whatever this woman was, her blood ran in my child’s veins as surely as mine did. So hell yes, I wanted her to answer my question.
“It’s not so much a ‘power’ as it is a very strong sense of intuition. Of knowing what a person is within seconds of meeting them. Of waking up in the morning and knowing I should stay home that day and receive an important phone call when I’d normally have been out of the house. Of driving to my weekly book club and knowing I should take a different route—and then finding out there was an accident along a road I would have been on.” She shrugged, and a glint of humor skipped into her eyes. “It’s come in handy over the years, but I can’t control it. I can’t force things to happen or not happen.”
“So you make choices based on feelings? How often have you been wrong?” Ethan interjected.
“Oh, it’s not foolproof, but I’m right far more often than I’m wrong.”
“Sure, but how many of your choices are more than a 50 percent shot one way or the other? Maybe you’re just a really good guesser.” Ethan’s arm left my shoulders. “Please don’t take offense at my doubt. I’ve just found the simplest explanation is often the most accurate.”
Beatrice’s eyes flickered from me to Ethan. Her chin lowered in a nod. “Perhaps you’re correct. It could very well be that I am nothing more than a really good guesser.”
“I wouldn’t call you a good guesser if most of your guesses were incorrect,” Ethan prompted. His voice held humor, but also a great deal of skepticism.
Beatrice sighed. “They’re not. And it’s more than that. I know things about you and Alice already. Nobody has told me these things, but I know them as fact.”
“Please, amaze us with your knowledge.” I was more than a little surprised to hear censure in Ethan’s voice. It wasn’t strong, but it was there, threaded beneath the calm.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Hit me with your best shot.”
“Remember that you asked. You’re a good man with a good heart, but you’ve been hurt in the past by a woman you cared a great deal for. This woman hurt you so much that…elements you were raised to believe in, you’ve now set aside as rubbish.”
A cynical laugh. “How many men have reached my age without being hurt by a woman at least once?”
“Again, you speak the truth. But in your case, it was more than a simple breakup or a romance gone bad.” Beatrice’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not a fortune-teller, but whatever happened with this woman altered your relationship with two other women tied closely to you. Your mother and grandmother, perhaps?”
A wave of silence crashed through the room, so fast, so heavy, my head pounded. I began to wonder what, exactly, had happened with the woman Ethan had proposed to. Was this the woman Beatrice spoke of? I wanted to ask. The words gathered in my mouth but I gulped them away.
“It seems you are, indeed, a very good guesser,” Ethan acknowledged, his tone still calm, still doubtful, but without the censure.
“Thank you for playing,” Beatrice said, a tad smugly. I didn’t hold it against her, though, because let’s face it, she hadn’t initiated any portion of this conversation. I had, and then Ethan had pushed it along.
Ethan seemed to feel the same, because he chuckled.
I grabbed the reins of the conversation to bring everything back into focus. “So, that’s it? Your power is completely passive?”
“Passive is a good word for it. I can’t make anything happen; it just exists. Like any other sense we’re born with. But you know as much about that as I do, don’t you?”
I hurried the conversation on, giving a barely perceptible shake of my head. “How far will you take this visitation thing?”
“If you’re asking if I’ll go to court over it, the answer is no. A mother has the right to make her own choices about her child. I won’t interfere with that, but I do hope you’ll give it—me—a chance. I’d like to know your daughter in whatever way you’re comfortable with.” Emotion brightened her eyes, added color to her cheeks, and she no longer appeared faded.
Before talking with Beatrice, I’d been sure my answe
r would be a simple but unequivocal no. Now I didn’t know what I thought. She seemed harmless, and my gut told me she wouldn’t push, wouldn’t try to force her way into my life or my daughter’s. “I’ll think about it,” I admitted. “Maybe we can get together again, get to know each other better over the next few months. But I can’t say yes or no right now.”
“That’s more than I’d hoped for,” she replied. “I’m a good grandmother, Alice. Much better than I was a mother.”
Suddenly, my mind flipped back and realized what she’d said. I hadn’t told Beatrice I was having a girl. “Were you guessing just now? When you said ‘daughter’?”
She winked at me. “What do you think?”
Clearing my throat, I said, “I think this has been a lot for a first meeting. We should get going.”
Strangely, most of my worries surrounding Beatrice had evaporated. I still needed to know more, but that would come in time. And while she was a little odd, the same could be said for my own grandmother—heck, for most of my family—so that was something else I didn’t hold against her. Really, the only black mark I saw was that she was Troy’s mother. I shivered. It was a big black mark.
Baby steps, I reminded myself.
“That wasn’t nearly as horrible as I thought it might be,” I said to Ethan once we were back in his car.
He turned to me. “Are you thinking you’re going to let her know the baby?”
“Maybe. I don’t know yet. I’ll spend more time with her before making a final decision, but she seemed sincere.”
“She definitely seemed sincere.”
“I hear a ‘but’ there.”
“No ‘but.’ She was nice enough, up front about her wishes, wasn’t wishy-washy about her beliefs. Even if I don’t agree with some of what she said, those are good qualities.” He put the car into gear and headed down the street.
“Um. About that. What she said to you? Was she right?”
Before he could answer, my cell phone buzzed. I tossed him an apologetic look and clicked the button. “Hello?”
“Alice? This is Grant. Grant Harris? Shelby’s husband?”
“I know who you are, Grant. What’s up?”
“We had the babies! Shelby’s too out of it to talk right now, but she wanted me to call. Twin girls. They’re early, but are doing well.”
“Oh! Wow! That is amazing! Congratulations!”
Grant filled me in on their weights, names, and when I could visit. I asked him to pass my congrats on to Shelby, and then I clicked off, telling Ethan, “Grant and Shelby had their babies tonight. Twin girls. Isn’t that cool?”
All of a sudden I thought of Miranda’s twin daughters. I remembered what she’d said to me that night, something I hadn’t focused on before. She hadn’t said to find her other daughter’s family; she’d used the word recognize. So…Wow. Did that mean I already knew them? Shelby and twin girls? Miranda and twin girls? Was it really that simple? Could Shelby be my family?
“You asked me a question,” Ethan said, his voice pushing into my musings. “Yes, Beatrice was right about me being hurt, and about the fallout affecting my relationship with my mother and grandmother.”
I switched gears, focusing on him. My eyes took in his tense jaw, the way he gripped the steering wheel. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s not much to say. I fell in love and proposed. She said yes; we began to plan our wedding. Two weeks before the event we went to a local fair, and one of the things we did that day was have our fortunes read. The fortune-teller said we were not meant for each other, and that if we married we would regret it.”
I was pretty sure I knew what had happened, and it explained so much about Ethan. “Go on.”
He slid the car to a stop at a red light. “Initially we both laughed over it. A week later, she ended our engagement and canceled the wedding. I actually thought she was joking at first.” He choked out a laugh. “But she wasn’t. She chose to trust in the mumblings of a so-called seer rather than the feelings we had for each other.”
My heart climbed into my throat and I fought to swallow it back down. “That bites.”
“There’s more,” he admitted. “I’m a logical guy. I like to see how someone gets from point A to point B, and so on. My ex felt that my logic was a fault. Even at the end, while she explained why she must leave me, I remained calm. Reasonable. She wanted me to show more emotion, to be passionate. She called me a cold fish.” He cleared this throat. “I’ve wondered for years if she was right.”
“No! She wasn’t. I like that you’re calm and logical. A lot, actually.” Putting my hand on his knee, I squeezed. “Trust me, Ethan. I’ve never once thought of you as cold. But I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“It’s long in the past. But when Beatrice started talking about her power…” He shrugged. “I guess I still have an Achilles’ heel about certain things.”
“I get that.” His revelation swirled inside me, mucking everything up. I almost confided in him then. I could taste the words on my tongue; they were that close to coming out. But I gulped them away, tried to even my breathing, the beat of my heart. How could I continue with Ethan, knowing that the fate of our relationship could very well end just like his previous one, because of a prophecy? “I’m sorry,” I said again.
He brought his hand down to mine and clasped it. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You wouldn’t leave a man you loved over something that flimsy. I’m sure of that.”
I turned to stare out the window, saying the only thing that came to mind. “What happened with your mother and grandmother?”
“Nothing horrible. I was hurt when they thought my fiancée had made the correct decision. They…well, they’ve always had strong beliefs in almost all areas of the supernatural. From fairies to superstitions to magic.” His hand tightened around mine. “I guess my experience has made me more cynical than ever, and I don’t handle it all that well. To the chagrin of my female relatives. But we’re still close. There’s just this gray area between us now that wasn’t there before.”
“Oh…well, it’s understandable that you’d feel that way.” And it was. But as I thought about my family tree, my daughter and her legacy, and the power I held, it didn’t exactly give me hope as far as Ethan went.
The knowledge that I should end this now came at me, but I couldn’t. Not when everything inside of me, the very air around me, hummed in Ethan’s presence. But yeah, I’d been stupid this whole time. Because I’d assumed that if Ethan were the right guy, my soul mate, that us getting together would be a fait accompli. But now? Not so much. Not by a long shot.
The same thoughts and worries plagued me as the week went on. By the time Friday rolled around, my emotions were one big jumbled mess. Okay, that wasn’t completely true. My feelings for Ethan hadn’t decreased. If anything, they continued to grow whenever we were around each other. But the rest of my emotions? They were flying out of control.
Tonight I’d decided to push myself to draw a picture of Ethan’s future, and to hope it was my image that appeared next to his. If that fizzled, I’d have to come up with something else. Whether that meant dumping something over his head, ripping his freaking shirt off, or some other, as of yet undefined, plan of action, I hadn’t decided.
Juggling my mail in one hand and my keys in the other, I heard my phone ringing as I unlocked my front door. I rushed in, dropping the mail on the table as I zipped by, and grabbed the phone the second it stopped ringing. Awesome. I clicked to check the caller ID, and was surprised to see the number of the art gallery where I used to work. Hmm. Maybe they’d sold one of the few paintings I’d left there.
I dialed the number, assuming that was the case. When my previous boss answered, I said, “Hey, Maura. It’s Alice. You called?”
“Yes! I’m glad you called back so fast. I have a proposition for you.” She went on to offer me a job at the gallery as its manager. Full-time, with benefits, at a decent wage.
“Are y
ou serious? You’ve always managed everything; why the change?”
“I’ll still be in and out, but with my husband retiring in a few months, I’d like to make some changes. What do you think? You don’t have to decide today.”
“I…Well, I don’t know. When would you want me to start?”
“If you want the job, Alice, I’ll keep it open until you’re ready. So if you want to stay where you are until after the baby’s born, that’s fine. You can begin here after maternity leave.” She paused for a second. “Oh! And a day care opened up a few doors down, so you’d be close to the baby. We might even be able to work it so you could have the baby here a few days a week.”
Talk about a hard offer to turn down!
“Don’t get me wrong,” I said, “because it sounds perfect—but why me?”
“You already know how the place runs. You’re dependable. And it saves me from looking for anyone else. I just wish I’d thought of it before you officially left. Are you interested enough to give it some thought and get back to me? Say, within a week or two?”
I hesitated. I’d be crazy not to consider it. “That sounds good. I’ll talk to you soon.” With hindsight, I added, “Thanks for thinking of me.”
We hung up and I gave the offer more thought as I changed out of my work clothes. Even though I’d begun to find my groove at Enchanted Expressions, it still felt like just a job. Working at the gallery had always been fun, exciting, and had spurred my creativity. I hadn’t painted anything—not even one measly stroke—in months. That, combined with the other, more practical reasons, should have made the decision easy. But it wasn’t. Because by leaving Enchanted Expressions, I’d give up the ability to see Ethan every single day.
Pushing my thoughts in another direction, I meandered into my kitchen to start dinner. I’d left work early for my five-month doctor’s appointment, and then had stopped to see Shelby and the babies at the hospital. Everyone was doing well, and even though the babies looked incredibly tiny, they’d be going home in the next day or two.
A Stroke Of Magic Page 22
