Aiden gave Bailey a questioning look, and she nodded. “I could use some time to myself for a moment anyway,” she said. “I’ll see you at home later?”
“Of course, my love,” Aiden said. She kissed him, and he kissed her back, more briefly than she would have liked but appropriately for the amount of company they had currently. She left him, and strolled out to the sidewalk and took a left to head toward Aiden’s house.
As she came to the other turn, though, she paused, and looked up the long hill to her old house—to the house she was raised in. She hadn’t been back there since just after Ryan died. Maybe now was a good time to visit. If ever she felt the need for Ryan and Wendy’s seemingly unconditional support, it was now.
She smiled at the ache that reminded her how much love there was there still, even if it hurt from time to time, and then took a right and headed home.
Chapter 15
Aiden watched as Bailey left, and then ran his fingers through his hair. There were times when she seemed as distant from him as the earth was from the sky; and other times when he could feel her practically under his skin. Now was one of the times she seemed far away.
He sighed, and turned to Leander. “Alright. What have you got?”
Chloe cleared her throat and looked around. “Everyone… perhaps it would be best if we reconvened tomorrow?”
By ‘we’, it was quickly taken to mean everyone but Chloe, Aiden, and Leander. The rest dismissed themselves quietly, until only the three of them were in the room.
“If… this is about mine and Bailey’s relationship,” Aiden said, nervously, “I assure you, her virtue is entirely intact.”
Leander raised an eyebrow, and Chloe opened her mouth, blinked several times, and then shut it. “No… it’s… not about the two of you. Not exactly.”
“You’re closer to Bailey, it would seem, than anyone else,” Leander said. “Except perhaps Avery or Piper. But we believe they may not be entirely objective.”
“Ah,” Aiden breathed. He pulled a chair away from a table and lowered himself into it, slapping his hands onto his knees when he was seated. “Let’s have it then.”
Chloe and Leander glanced at one another before Chloe spoke. “How has she been? At home, I mean, in private? Does she still seem like herself?”
“In all the ways that matter,” Aiden said, bristling.
“Are you sure?” Leander asked. He shifted in his seat a bit. “I know that she’s been brave and brazen in the past; but this idea of hers is… quite a bit more than that. It borders on madness.”
“We’re just worried that the pressure could be getting to her,” Chloe said quickly, casting Leander a warning look. “That maybe all of this is getting to be too much.”
“Well of course it is,” Aiden snapped. “You’ve heard how she talks. As if the weight of the world were literally on her shoulders. The weight of two worlds, for that matter. How else should she respond? How would you fare?”
“And just how is anyone supposed to know that,” Chloe said, “if she won’t… if she isolates herself like she has.”
“She hasn’t been isolated,” Aiden said. He looked at the two of them—Bailey’s parents, though neither of them had held that role for very long. Were they worried about their daughter, or were they worried about their queen? He wondered if there was a difference. “She’s been with me. And to me, she isn’t queen, or daughter, or coven sister—she’s my lover and my love.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chloe had a stricken look, but Aiden had a hard time thinking she didn’t deserve it.
“The day we returned,” Aiden said, “and every day until she left, do you know what she heard? Every moment she was around you all?”
When neither of them had an answer, he answered for them. “She heard constant talk of her new magic—how dangerous it was, what it was for, where it came from. She heard theories from you and Avery”—he waved at Leander—“and concerns about what it meant and where it would lead from you and the coven.” He addressed the last to Chloe.
Both of them looked ashamed. And well they should have been, in Aiden’s opinion. “None of you stopped and asked her how she was feeling, whether she was worried or not, or what she wanted. For the past year Bailey has been under constant criticism by all of you in one way or another. She’s dealt with a great loss, and with revelations that would shake anyone’s foundations and faith. From both of you, not to mention her own magic.”
He sighed, and leaned against the back of the chair, his eyes growing distant as he tried to temper his growing anger.
“Do you really love her as much as you say?” Chloe asked. “You’re not even a little bit worried about what this power is doing to her?”
Aiden focused his eyes on her. “More than you can imagine, maybe,” he said. "She's like fire, and the sea, and the shaking earth and the howling wind. Of course her power terrifies me. It scares her, too. But underneath all that power, she's still just Bailey Robinson. She's still the woman that I love. I'll stand by her, no matter what happens. Even if it costs me... well, anything or everything. Even my life.”
Chloe nodded, and Leander folded his arms and stared out the window of the Bakery.
“My suggestion,” Aiden said finally, “is that the two of you learn to trust her. Even before this new magic came to her, she’s often shown herself to be intuitive, and cunning, and brave. She had good judgment. I’m not sure what effect this magic is having on her, ultimately—but she isn’t insane. She’s just trying to solve every problem by herself, and taking responsibility for all of us. Maybe if you can sympathize with her perspective, you’ll understand a bit better—and if you can do that, maybe she’ll open up again. Do either of you even realize how it was that she came out of her, as you call it, isolation?”
“Because we called her,” Chloe said. “Or, more specifically, we called you.”
“No,” Aiden said. “You didn’t. You called your Coven. You called the Witch. You wanted to see the Witch Queen.”
He stood from his chair, anxious to get back to Bailey. “Perhaps if you reach out to your daughter—to Bailey, instead of the Queen and source of magic—you’ll fare better in reconnecting.”
As he approached the door, Chloe stopped him. “Aiden,” she said.
He looked over his shoulder.
“Will you just… will you tell her that we love her?”
Aiden sighed, and shook his head. “You should tell her that yourself, and then prove it by believing in her.”
He left them with that, and walked to the car and sent Bailey a text. He was almost to the house before he got the message back that she’d gone home—to the Robinson’s house, now hers. He offered to meet her there, but assured her that if she needed time alone, she could have it.
After a minute he smiled when she responded.
“No, come on up. I need you, too.”
He did, and was glad for it. And, he hoped, that wasn’t going to change any time soon. The thought of losing her tore him in half at times, clawed at his chest with the urgency of inevitability that he couldn’t shake.
But if he could just stay close to her, he knew—his dream may never have a chance to come true.
Chapter 16
Bailey sat in Ryan’s favorite chair, paging through a photo album that she’d all but forgotten about. She’d found it in Ryan’s room, in the closet. At first it had been hard to go in there, as if she didn’t belong—but after all, the whole place was hers now.
There were pictures of Wendy and Ryan’s wedding in the first pages. Honeymoon photos took up the next several, and then their various occasional trips. They were few and far between—each set was like a snapshot of them every ten years, and they were markedly older, the quality of the photos more and more advanced.
Bailey’s pictures started halfway through the album. Pictures of her as a swaddled infant. The time between new entries was shorter—here she was at one, at two, having birthdays and going to th
e zoo for the first time. There were more pictures of Bailey with Wendy than there were with Ryan—but those pictures where Ryan had been around showed clearly that he’d always adored her even when his work consumed him.
She found pictures of her and Avery from their high school prom, when Bailey had agreed to go with Avery because he wanted to go with a boy and couldn’t—or couldn’t find the nerve, one or the other. Bailey had wanted to go with Patrick Kinney, but had turned him down so that she could be Avery’s date instead. There were pictures of Gavin and Piper with them, already looking like a married couple.
Bailey smiled at a picture of Wendy in a smart looking skirt suit that same night—she’d chaperoned, not just to watch over Bailey, but to make sure, personally, that no one gave Avery a hard time. Wendy Robinson; everyone’s champion.
The door opened quietly, and Bailey didn’t have to look to know it was Aiden. “Come see this, babe,” she said.
He leaned over the back of the chair and kissed her cheek. “Look at you,” he said. “And that’s Wendy, isn’t it? That’s impressive hair—are you sure she didn’t have magic?”
“Oh, she did,” Bailey sighed. “Just not the kind we’re used to.”
Aiden chuckled, and came around the chair to sit on the couch. There were other albums on the coffee table. Most of them were clippings—Ryan’s articles through the years, including one from the New York Times that he’d always been particularly proud of.
“Are you alright?” Aiden asked. “Being back here, I mean.”
Bailey nodded slowly, and turned the page of the album in her lap to graduation photos. “It’s still painful, but… it’s comforting, too, somehow. I don’t think I’m ready to move back in. But… one day.”
“I don’t suppose I can compete with the family home,” Aiden said, smiling.
Bailey pursed her lips, and studied his face as he read a few lines of one of Ryan’s articles and then turned the page of the news album. “We could… both move back here. When I’m ready, I mean.”
Aiden’s lip quirked up at the corner, and he looked up at her from the book. Compassion made his face soft, his eyes beautiful. “Would you want me to? Truly?”
She shrugged, and looked around the living room. “It’s cozy. But it would be lonely on my own. And… I’m enjoying living together. Is it too fast, you think?”
“Much too fast,” Aiden said, but his smile widened. “Everything seems to have been flying by. Murders, incursions, thefts of valuable and rare magical artifacts—a resurrection.”
Bailey snorted. “Yeah. Time flies when you’re having an apocalypse.”
“That said,” Aiden went on, reaching for her and taking the hand she answered with, “I think that we make a good match, and a good team. And I… well, in the fullness of time—however much we have—I’d like to do quite a bit more than move in together properly.”
“Well,” Bailey sighed, smiling, “I don’t think that my clothes will fit you, and my underwear is off limits, but—”
“I want to marry you, Bailey,” Aiden said.
Bailey’s heart fluttered in her chest until an arrow shot it down. She smiled through it, though. “I’d like that, I think.”
“You think?” Aiden wondered. “I suppose that’s better than a no.”
“Are you actually asking?” Bailey asked. She looked him over dramatically as if looking for something. “Because I don’t see a ring anywhere…”
Aiden laughed. “Touché. I suppose I’m testing the waters.”
“Aha,” Bailey said. “Well… consider them seasonably warm.”
Aiden grew serious, and watched her for a moment. “I’m serious about it, though. I know that what is coming will be trying and that… it may be dangerous, for both of us. But I have hope, Bailey. I believe in you, and in us; and when we finally have peace again… I want to make a family with you.”
“That’ll raise some eyebrows,” Bailey sighed. “But I like it. I’ve never been one for rules and silly traditions.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Aiden chuckled.
Bailey touched the photograph of Ryan and Wendy at her graduation. She wondered what they would have said in this moment. About Aiden, about her task; about her new power. She tried to hear their voices, but couldn’t. “They’re worried about me, aren’t they?” She asked. Not about Ryan and Wendy, of course.
Aiden understood, but didn’t exactly answer. “I’m not worried,” he said. “Not about you. I’m worried about the toll it might be taking—but not about your judgement, or your character. Is that enough?”
She squeezed his hand, and left Ryan’s chair to join Aiden on the couch, snuggling up with his arm around her shoulder so that she could lay her head on his chest. “I hope so.”
He held her close, and stroked her hair, and for a little while they pretended this was the only thing that really mattered.
Chapter 17
The following day, Avery and Piper came to Aiden’s house. It was early, and they hadn’t called ahead, and Bailey was at first a little irritated. This was her safe place at the moment, and having it invaded so that her friends could argue on behalf of the Coven felt like a betrayal.
However, that turned out not to be the reason that Avery and Piper visited. In fact, when they told her that there was no real reason for their visit other than the visit itself, she could sense the honesty in their words; even through Avery’s mental wards.
“We brought snacks,” Avery said, holding up a wicker picnic basket. “Cheese, wine, sausages, some kind of experimental cupcakes… the works. Oh, and it comes with this…”
He handed Bailey a card. She opened it to find a message from Chloe. Trying to stay productive. I came up with some new cupcake recipes after talking with Alkina. Figured it’s been a while since you tested any out for me. Be sure and tell me what you think. Love you. ~Mom
Bailey stared at the letter for a minute, reading and re-reading it. Her throat hurt, and her eyes burned, but she managed not to cry. She put the note in her back pocket and invited her friends in.
They took turns testing cupcakes, and Avery regaled them with the specifics of the bottle of red wine he’d brought. It was early in the day, but he argued that in some cultures people drank a glass of wine first thing in the morning, and that the people in those places generally had a higher life expectancy. “So, obviously they’re doing something right and you can’t prove it isn’t this.”
It was hard to argue against that, so the bottle was poured and glasses passed around.
Avery talked about the library, and Piper needled him about the emails he’d been exchanging with her brother. Apparently it was all just friendly talk, but the way Avery’s cheeks colored told a different story. Piper talked about the rigors of raising two children who insisted on maintaining opposing schedules, and the joys of having an inquisitive three year old who was finally beginning to make cogent sentences.
“He looks over the crib at William as he’s sleeping,” She said, rolling her eyes, “and says, ‘He sleeps too much, mommy, I think he’s broken.’ Sleeps too much; he says to me, who hasn’t had a full eight hours of sleep since William was born.” She chuckled softly, and shook her head.
Bailey sensed a subtle ache, which didn’t match Piper’s smile, but she’d begun to understand why they were here. It wasn’t just about cheering her up or making her feel normal—it was about reminding themselves, as well, that whatever else was going on in their world, they were still friends, and sometimes friends just hung out and talked about nothing.
“So,” Avery said, waving at the empty cupcake wrappers, “what should we convey to Chloe about the cupcakes? I have to say, I liked the spiced rum-cake raisin one. I think she could go even spicer, personally.”
“I can already tell I’m going to have heartburn,” Piper said, her nose wrinkling. “It’s a no for me.”
Bailey pushed one of the wrappers in small circles on the table. “There was the peanut butter one—
that was my favorite.”
“Peanut butter and blueberry,” Avery said, “and something almost like licorice—anise, probably? I agree. I’ll ah… tell her you liked it.”
Bailey sighed, and shook her head. “No, I’ll tell her. I have to head down there in a bit anyway.”
Both of them were quiet for a moment. Avery looked around the table, his eyes furtive. Bailey could feel the curiosity bubbling underneath his forced casual demeanor.
“Whatever it is,” she said patiently, “you can ask it.”
Aiden made a questioning noise. Avery grimaced, and waved a hand. “No, it’s… it’s academic. It’s not important right now.”
Piper groaned. “Lies. He’s been obsessing.”
“Over what?” Bailey asked. She gave Avery a pointed look. “Your feelings are distracting and loud. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”
He grunted, and looked up at her. “It’s just… I’ve been trying to figure out how you intend to follow through on your plan. I worked out some equations, and the kind of output you’d need is considerable. Not that I don’t think you can manage it if you’re really the… well, you know, the source of all magic now, but even accounting for just half the population, there are problems of energy conservation no matter how many additional dimensions I try to account for and—”
“That’s good,” Piper said softly, patting Avery on the arm. “I think we get the gist.”
Bailey actually wasn’t sure she did, but she was pretty sure she wouldn’t need to. “I can’t exactly explain it,” she admitted. “I just… know that it’s something I can do.”
“No,” Avery said, “that’s not what I’m worried about, Bails. I’m worried about what it’ll cost.”
“I… kind of am, too,” Piper said, admitting it like she was ashamed. “I keep hearing that magic is never free, and it seems like we’re constantly paying some kind of a price for it. This is kind of a big ticket item, you know?”
Witching for a Miracle (The Witchy Women of Coven Grove Book 7) Page 8
