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Witching The Night Away

Page 14

by Constance Barker


  Chloe’s heart thumped in her chest. Perhaps she was wrong. Had Bailey inherited her magic? She didn’t sense the girl’s thoughts intruding on her own—but she might well have inherited Chloe’s grandmother’s gift to see possible futures. “What... makes you say that, dear?” Chloe asked carefully.

  Again, Bailey had to consider. She wasn’t one to speak without thinking, and according to Wendy she rarely jumped to conclusions. So, she sat quietly, evaluating the evidence.

  “Neither of them have hair like mine,” Bailey said after a moment. “And, they don’t look like me. I learned in school that we get one coma... cram...”

  “Chromosome?” Chloe asked.

  “Yeah,” Bailey said, “that. We get one from our mom and one from our dad... or... anyway, Mrs. Mills said about white bunnies and brown bunnies; and there were two brown bunnies and two white bunnies and... the brown bunnies made more brown bunnies and the white bunnies made more white bunnies and the brown and white bunnies made brown and white bunnies and... there are no red bunnies in my family.”

  Chloe had to fight to keep her shoulders from trembling with laughter. It was serious, she could tell that from the way Bailey delivered her lecture on biology. And she wasn’t entirely wrong. Still, Chloe did her best to fix the damage. “Did Mrs. Mills tell you about how some things can get passed to a parent’s children, while some other things might be... hidden for a few generations? If you have a great great grandmother with red hair that you didn’t know—who knows? You might have gotten it from her.”

  “Really?” Bailey wondered. This new information undermined her working hypothesis. But she didn’t fight it—she merely attempted to find a place for this information. “That’s... not all, though.”

  “Okay,” Chloe said. “Well, what else, then?”

  Bailey shook her head, and looked down at the muffin. “I don’t know... just... a feeling. I don’t have it all the time. But sometimes, at night, or when I get home from school...” she trailed off, and shrugged. A moment later she wiped her eye. When she looked up they were wet. “I don’t know, Miss Chloe. I don’t know the words.”

  “It’s okay, darling,” Chloe breathed, and came around the table. Bailey didn’t pull away when Chloe put an arm around the girl and hugged her close. She did inhale deeply, though.

  And a heartbeat later, she turned and put her arms around Chloe’s waist, and cried. Chloe didn’t, through sheer force of will.

  When the spell passed, Bailey picked at her muffin while Chloe called Wendy and Ryan to inform them that their little girl was safe, that she’d come to the bakery. Relieved, they assured her they were one their way.

  Chloe hung up, and pressed her head to the wall above the phone as she took cleansing breaths and cleared her mind and heart of the pain. This was the way it had to be. It was her mistake, getting involved with... well, even thinking his name was potentially dangerous; could call his attention. Not that he was even likely to care after all these years. But then again, maybe he would. It was impossible to predict what a wizard did or didn’t care about from moment to moment. Chloe had thought, for instance, that he cared about her. Right up until he vanished into thin air.

  When she returned to the dining room of the bakery, she heard Bailey humming a tune. Something familiar—a lilting sort of somber, upbeat melody that Chloe swore she must have heard on the radio recently. Or perhaps in a movie. “What are you humming, Bailey-Bee?” She asked.

  Bailey shrugged a shoulder self consciously. “A song.”

  “It sounds familiar,” Chloe told her as she sat down across from her daughter again. “Did you hear it on TV?”

  Bailey shook her head. “I don’t remember.”

  “It’s very pretty,” Chloe said. “Are there words to it?”

  “No,” Bailey breathed. Her fingers paused in the act of pinching another bit of muffin off. She stared into some distance behind Chloe, brow furrowed in concentration. Finally, she shook her head again.

  “I don’t think it’s very pretty, Miss Chloe,” she said quietly, before she looked into Chloe’s eyes. “I think it’s very... sad.”

  A chill spread from Chloe’s spine to the rest of her, and she rubbed her arms. For the next few minutes before Wendy and Ryan arrived, she and Bailey sat in mutual silence, as though listening for some distant music that Chloe, at least, couldn’t hear.

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  tance Barker, Witching The Night Away

 

 

 


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