She scratched his head. “He’s so soft, he doesn’t even feel like a dog.”
“Well, he thinks he’s human, so that makes sense.”
A door opened and shut upstairs, followed by the sounds of footsteps and heavy paws on the stairs. Poppy and Georgiana emerged into the living room. “Zelda! You’re home early,” Poppy said.
“Mom, this is my friend, Poppy, and her Irish wolfhound, Georgiana. Poppy, this is my mom, Effie.”
My mom held out her hand. “So nice to meet you, Poppy.”
Bright curiosity bloomed on Poppy’s face. “Hello!” she said, shaking Mom’s hand and then quickly moving back. “Does she—um—know?”
“Oh, right. Mom, Poppy reads minds. If you’re within about six feet of her, she can see what you’re thinking.”
My mother’s dazzling smile froze, then faltered. “Doesshe? How unique!” She clutched her bag and retreated to the couch, where she set the bag aside and began to feel the couch with her hands. “Is this the couch you were talking about sleeping on?”
“The one and only.”
“I can’t possibly do that to you. You have all that work on you. You simply must get your sleep.”
“I’ll be fine—”
“No, no, no. I won’t impose on your hospitality. I’ll find a nice little place to stay nearby.”
“Actually,” Poppy said, “the LWW has a few rooms open right now. I’m sure I could arrange a complimentary stay.”
“The what now?” Mom asked.
“LWW,” I said. “League of Women’s Welfare. A local charity with a great big beautiful building in the Upper East Side.”
“You don’t mind hanging out with a lot of witches, do you?” Poppy said.
“Witches?” Mom swallowed. “Do they… read minds, too?” It was one thing to know that magic made Mom uncomfortable. It was another thing to watch it happen in real time. Most of the time we mutually pretended the problem didn’t exist.
“Not like me,” Poppy replied, breezily. “I can’t help it. They have to do it intentionally.” She leaned down to Georgiana and gave the Irish wolfhound scritchy-scratchies behind her ears. “Isn’t that right, girl?” she said. “I’m a great big mind-reading monster.”
Mom shifted, her discomfort at being impolite obviously warring with the desire not to have her mind read.
Poppy looked up. “I’d be happy to talk to Azure.”
“She’s the boss witch lady,” I added.
“Witch Presiding,” Poppy said. “I’m sure we could get you a lovely room for your stay.”
“Oh, no,” my mother said, looking alarmed, “I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble.”
Jester jumped on the couch and threw himself across her lap. He did that when people needed comforting. Then he rolled over and showed his belly, hoping for tummy rubs.
“Well, aren’t you a demanding boy?” she said.
“Speaking of which,” I said, “I’m supposed to meet up with Berron.”
“Berron?”
In my mind, I had to run through what she knew and didn’t know. About Berron, not much. “He helped me renovate, remember?”
“Oh, yes.” She paused. “What is Daniel doing these days? Such a nice boy,” she added.
Poppy barely covered a snort-laugh by coughing.
