Big Witch Energy

by Kelly Jamieson

  “There are consequences,” he agrees. He picks up his beer and takes a mouthful. “You’d go back in time. That means you’d be gone from our lives. You’d relive your life over from that day onward. That would likely look completely different than it does now.”

  I let that sink in. I think back to being sixteen and what life was like then. I could do it all over. I could have Mom and Dad and Nathan back.

  They could have their lives back.

  It’s what I’ve always wanted. My heart beats violently in my chest. “Why would they do that for me?”

  “Because they love you,” he says simply. “We all love you.”

  Hot sensation swells in my chest. They love me.

  I mean, I knew that. But they would do that for me… wow. They love me.

  Even Romy. She would do that for me.

  “I… can’t believe this.”

  “You don’t have to decide right away. I know it’s a huge step. Think about it. Romy has to do her exam first, so there’s time.”

  “Yeah. For sure.”

  He claps a hand on my shoulder. “I better get home. Cassie’s waiting for me.”

  I nod. “Have a good time.”

  He drops some cash on the table to cover our beers and leaves me sitting alone at the worn wood table. I stare at my beer. Holy shit.

  My brain is scrambled eggs right now. This is huge. Incredible.

  Romy has Triad Energy. I was right.

  I smile. She’s going to be an amazing witch. I’ve fucking loved watching her grow, watching her confidence develop, watching her delight in her power.

  If I go back in time, I’ll never know that.

  I can’t focus here. I need to go home. Maybe take Cheddar for a walk in the park where I can clear my head.

  After greeting an excited doggo, I change into jeans and a hoodie and grab Cheddar’s leash. She does her excited spinoramas at the sight of it. “Yes, we’re going for a walk. Sit. Let me put this on.”

  We walk down the street. It’s dark already, the bare tree branches casting shadows from the streetlights. I inhale deep breaths of the cool autumn air carrying the scent of leaves on the damp ground.

  Cheddar is cheerfully unaware of my weighty problems, pausing to sniff trees and posts.

  I think back to my life at sixteen. I imagine my parents, laughing, loving. I imagine growing up with Nathan, playing in a rock band, discovering our powers together.

  Would I work for Dream Homes? I don’t know.

  It’s hard to imagine life without that. Without Joe teaching me carpentry skills, igniting my interest in building and renovating. And I know… I don’t just work at Dream Homes to repay Joe for what he did for me. I work there because I love it.

  I work there now because I appreciate how important home and family is. I love creating that for other people. If I went back in time, would I have that appreciation? Or would I take those things for granted?

  I wouldn’t be around to take care of that bully who pestered Felise or that asshole who broke Magan’s heart in her last year at the Academy.

  And I can’t imagine my life without Romy. She’s become such a huge part of it. Part of me.

  She’s willing to do this. For me. To make me happy and give me what I’ve always wanted.

  I tip my head back and gaze up at the trees above me.

  But… is that what I want?

  Yes, I want family. And love. And belonging. I want to feel I’m worth loving.

  I thought I had to have my family back to have that.

  The truth is… I already have all that.

  The realization almost sends me to my knees.

  I love the Candlers. I belong with them. I’ve never felt I haven’t. And they love me.

  I’m the one who thinks I’m not worth loving.

  Love for Joe and everyone for doing this for me nearly chokes me, swelling so huge in my chest.

  And most of all… love for Romy. I’ve fucked up so bad. I let her think I don’t care about her. I let her end things because I thought it was what was best for me. And yet she’d still do this for me.

  Maybe she wants to send me back in time because she hates me so much.

  I won’t be one of those girls who hates you. I don’t hate you.

  I don’t know how or if I can fix this. But I have to try. I have to at least tell her I’m sorry.

  For once in your life, give things a chance.

  I keep thinking about what Garrett said the other night. It’s true; I don’t give things a chance with women. I don’t need to dig too deeply to figure out why it is. I’ve always figured I’m not worth loving. I’m responsible for my own family dying; I sure don’t want to be responsible for anyone else’s happiness and letting them down too, possibly in the worst way.

  And yet… here I have this woman… Romy. My obsession with her hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s stronger. I want her, all the time. I want to make her happy in every way I possibly can.

  Maybe it won’t work out with her, but… maybe it will. Maybe it’ll be the best thing that ever happened to you.

  I’m afraid to even think that’s a possibility. Fucking terrified.

  But… I have to try. I defended her at the risk of losing my powers, and I’d do it again. She means more to me than keeping my powers. That says it all, right there.

  I love her.

  “I need your help.”

  The Candlers, all sitting in their den, give me sadly expectant looks.

  Holy shit. I’m doing this.

  I clear my throat. “First of all, I won’t let you send me back in time.”

  The lightening of the air in the room is palpable, a sense of relief and excitement.

  “Oh, Trace,” Cassie says, her shoulders sagging.

  “Why?” Felise asks. “It’s because you don’t want to leave us, right?”

  I half smile. “Right.”

  They all chuckle.

  “It’s true,” I say seriously. “I gave this a lot of thought. I love all of you.” I cough. “I thought I wanted my family back, that I needed that to be loved. But you all showed me…” I stop. Fuck, this is hard.

  “We love you, Trace,” Cassie finishes for me. “You are our family.”

  I nod, my throat thick. When I can speak, I say, “Yes. And I have to thank you…” I meet Joe’s eyes. “For making me tutor Romy. I knew why you did it, and I was pissed, but… you were right. It was what I needed to restore my faith in magic.”

  Joe smiles.

  “So thank you. But there’s something I have to tell you that might… upset you.”

  I’m greeted with blank looks now.

  “Romy and I…” I stop. “I’m in love with her.”

  To my complete shock, the women all break into smiles. Cassie murmurs something to Joe, who doesn’t look quite as pleased.

  “We’ve actually been seeing each other,” I continue in the interests of full disclosure and honesty. They need to know. “For a few months.”

  “Oh my god!” Felise gapes. “And she never said anything!”

  “It was because of me. I didn’t want you all to know. But I—”

  “What the hell!” Joe shouts, slamming a hand on the end table.

  I jump, as does everyone else.

  “You and Romy,” he barks.

  Ah, fuck. I meet his eyes. “Yes. I know, I know.” I lean forward. “I’m sorry. She’s your daughter. She was off-limits, and I fucked up.”

  “And you kept it secret.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Oh. Clearly, he takes this as an insult to Romy. “It was my hang-up,” I say immediately. “Because she’s your daughter, and you’ve been like family to me, and I didn’t want to betray your trust.”

  Joe’s chin jerks down.

  “Because I don’t have any other family,” I go on. “I didn’t want to screw things up.”

  “Oh no,” Cassie murmurs.

  “I felt like I was betraying
you and everything you’ve done for me by getting involved with Romy. But…” I straighten my shoulders. “I fell in love with her. And if I had to choose between you and her… I have to be honest with you. I’d choose her.”

  Silence falls over us, dense and heavy.

  “And if you want to fire me, I understand,” I add. “I’ll leave.”

  “Fire you? Fuck no!” Joe stares at me. “Why would you say that?”

  “I don’t want to cause a big rift in the family. I’ll find a job somewhere else—”

  Joe holds up a hand. “Shut up, Trace. You’re not going anywhere.”

  Joe and Cassie look at each other, then turn back to me.

  “I can’t believe you would think such a thing,” Cassie says. “You don’t have to choose, Trace. I just told you. We love you.”

  Relief spreads through my chest and loosens my muscles. “I don’t have a good track record with women. I never wanted anything serious. I thought with Romy it would just be… fun.”

  After a few beats of silence, Cassie says, “I know you feel responsible for your family’s death. And that’s why you wanted to go back in time.”

  “I am responsible,” I say quietly, dropping my head.

  “It was an accident, Trace. There are some things we just can’t change. Even witches. We have to accept them and move forward. Is that what’s been holding you back from… women? You go out with a lot of girls, but you never get serious.”

  I shift in my chair. “Yeah. Getting serious isn’t for me.”

  “That is horseshit.” Joe rolls his eyes. “You deserve love as much as anyone.”

  “Probably not.” I grimace. “I sort of screwed things up with Romy.”

  Joe’s eyes narrow. “How?”

  “We argued. The other night. About giving up her witch powers. She wanted to end things and I let her, because I…” My face heats. “I thought it was better for my chances to bring back my family. It was stupid. I didn’t realize how much I care about her.”

  Felise’s and Magan’s heads drop forward.

  “Oh dear,” Cassie says.

  “I didn’t think that would happen with Romy. I didn’t think I’d fall in love. But I couldn’t help it. I knew I shouldn’t get involved with her, but it was like I was… obsessed with her.”

  Felise gives a happy-sounding sigh. Even Magan looks weepy.

  “And the more time we spent together, the more I fell for her. She’s… amazing. I need to tell her how I feel. And that I’m sorry for being an idiot. That’s why I need your help.”

  Joe frowns. Cassie smiles. Felise nods. And Magan says, “Tell us what you need.”

  26

  Romy

  I’m at the Singing Horse, waiting for Felise and Magan. They’re late, and I’m nearly finished with my first beer. I sigh.

  I pick up my phone to check both the time and whether I have a text from my sisters. Nothing. I tap in a message to both of them. Are you two still coming? Then I drop my phone back on the table.

  Propping my elbow on the table, I rest my chin in my hand and watch the owners of the bar, setting up for karaoke. Sadness forms a cold ache in my chest, remembering the night I met Trace here.

  I remember the second time I met him here, when he encouraged me to be brave enough to believe in magic. And I thought he was putting a spell on me. Ha.

  I shouldn’t be sad. I love him, and we had so much fun together. We also had deep witch discussions. He supported me through all the mayhem I created with the Board of Elders. I’ll always have that even if he’s not in this life anymore. And I’ll always know that he has his family back.

  But I am sad, even though I think that’s selfish. I want him in my life. But more than anything, I want him to be happy.

  One of my first lessons from Trace was that I can’t use my power to interfere with life lessons, like heartbreak. I just have to endure this. Be strong enough to get through it.

  The door of the bar opens, and I glance over to see if it’s Felise and Magan.

  Trace walks in.

  My heart lurches to a stop. What is he doing here?

  His gaze lands on me. He starts toward me.

  I watch his long stride. He’s dressed in worn jeans and a black shirt, with a loose khaki jacket over them. His beard stubble is heavier than usual, and his green eyes are shadowed, giving him a dark and moody air. He stops at my table.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask stupidly.

  His lips quirk. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for someone.”

  “Huh. Could you be waiting for your witchy sisters?”

  I straighten. “Maybe.”

  He pulls out a chair and takes a seat. “They aren’t coming.”

  “What? How do you know?”

  He leans closer to me, and I find myself lost in those mossy eyes. “Because this is a setup.”

  I blink. “What?” My conversational skills are really dazzling tonight.

  “I didn’t know if you’d talk to me. So I asked them to help get you here.”

  My lips quiver. “Why?”

  “Because I have some things to say to you.”

  “Oh.” I swallow. “Okay. Go for it.”

  A waitress appears next to us with a smile. “Another beer for you?” she asks me.

  “Sure.”

  “What are you drinking?” Trace asks.

  “Hoppy Ending Pale Ale.” And then my bottom lip trembles and a tear leaks out of my eye. No Hoppy Ending for me and Trace.

  He frowns. “Is it that bad?”

  “No.” I swipe the tear away. I have to be stronger than this. “It’s good. You know. H-hoppy.”

  “I’ll have one of those too,” he tells the waitress.

  She nods and moves away.

  “Hopefully it won’t make me cry,” he says.

  “Are you making a joke?”

  He grimaces. “Trying. Not funny?”

  I rub my nose. “No, no. That was good.”

  “Romy. I’m so sorry.”

  I gaze at him. “For what?”

  “For being an idiot.”

  I purse my lips and consider that. “Fair.”

  He chokes on a laugh.

  “You’re not an idiot,” I say. “I didn’t realize that you’ve been trying to bring your family back ever since the accident. I understand why that’s so important for you. Even though it wasn’t your fault. I knew you felt responsible for the accident you were in, but—”

  “You knew?” He stares at me, openmouthed.

  “Yes. Felise told me. I… I wish you’d told me.”

  He swallows. “I thought you’d hate me.”

  “No.” I touch my fingertips to his cheek. “It wasn’t your fault, Trace. Someone pulled out in front of you. There was nothing you could have done.”

  “I was a kid. A new driver. I kept telling myself there could have been something. There should have been something I did. I felt responsible. Like I killed them.”

  “I know. I know you felt like that. But you don’t have to.” I swallow a sigh. “I wish things could be different. I wish you knew how valued and loved you are here. I mean here…” I wave my hands in a big circle. “Not here in this bar. Here in this time.”

  “I do know.” His eyes glimmer with amusement, but his voice is low and serious. “And that’s what I’m sorry about. That I didn’t realize it. But now I do.”

  “You do?” My heart leaps and then zooms into a gallop worthy of Secretariat. I search his face, trying to figure out where this is going.

  “Yeah.”

  The waitress brings our beers and sets them on the table. We ignore her and the drinks, staring into each other’s eyes.

  “I’m not going to do it.”

  I blink a few times. “Do what?”

  “Go back in time.”

  I stiffen. I can’t breathe. My hand splays against my breastbone. “Why? It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

  “I was wrong.
I wanted love. Family. Belonging.” He pauses, pulling in a breath through his nose. “It took losing you to make me realize… I already have those things.”

  “Oh.” My lungs expel all the air from them. Dizziness assails me. Those are the things I’ve always wanted too.

  “I have family. Family who loves me enough to send me back in time to make me happy.” His smile holds a touch of sadness. “I have a great job that I love. I don’t just work there because of the Candlers. I work there because I love what I do. I love making beautiful homes for people. Because home is important.”

  “It is.” My throat thickens.

  “And I have something else to tell you.”

  I nod, waiting.

  He stands.

  My forehead tightens as he walks over to the karaoke stage.

  “Our first performer of the evening!” the announcer booms into the microphone. “Trace Holcomb!”

  I can’t stop blinking, and I press my hand flat to my chest where my heart is still galloping. What is he doing?

  He steps onto the stage and takes the microphone amid a smattering of applause.

  Then my jaw nearly smacks the table as Dad and Cassie… and Felise and Magan walk into the bar. They head straight toward me and pull up more chairs around the small table.

  “What are you doing here?” Somehow I manage to form words.

  “We came to watch Trace sing,” Felise whispers.

  “He hates karaoke!” I whisper back.

  “I know.” She smiles, eyes on the stage.

  “This song is for you, Romy,” Trace says into the microphone.

  Oh. My. God.

  My fingers fly to my lips as I watch.

  The first notes of the song play. I recognize it immediately. I gasp.

  Then Trace opens his mouth and sings, “Fly me to the moon.”

  He’s singing. A song I love.

  He has a good voice!

  I listen to the words in a daze, hands on my cheeks, watching him move on the stage, getting right into the jazzy music. A veritable Frank Sinatra. He ends the song on a flourish, holding the long notes impressively, then slowing down and capturing my gaze across the room to sing the last line. “I…”

  My eyes tear up.

  “…love…”