I only shrugged once again. “You’re right that some of it is a crock. I’ll give you that. Isn’t that the case about everything though? People still go to Salem to breathe in the history, the memories, and stand where people who are no longer here once stood. That’s a type of magic.”
“If you think of it that way.”
“Exactly. Plus, the whole idea of witches might have become more popular, but it’s not exactly something trendy for me and my … friends, if that is what you are trying to say. It’s true whether anyone else cares to think of it that way or not.”
Dom reached for a French fry, nodding. “What is it for you?”
“We all sort of found magic and this sort of slower lifestyle because it foundusin a sense. It brings comfort and love and maybe even a little optimism.”
He paused mid-chew. “I promise I won’t laugh at you for considering yourself an optimist.”
My eyes expanded with delight at the tease, but I kept going. “We are all ultimately grateful Gertie was the one who started up the practice here in Barnett.”
“And she’s the leader of your group?”
“Priestess,” I said, though I didn’t want to get into too many more details. I’d already pressed the limit for today, I was sure.
Though Dom was kind enough about realizing my quirky side of life, I didn’t want to scare him away. I carefully took in the tells, watching for a twitch of his eyebrow or narrow of his eyes when I spoke of magic outside the realm of fantasy to see when I was getting close.
“She doesn’t tell the story often, but she didn’t plan on ending up in Barnett.”
“Where did she plan on ending up then?” Dom said. “Reno? Somewhere in Florida?”
“You can’t even say that until you meet her. No. Gertie was a lot like all of us when she was young, sometimes worse. She made a lot of mistakes and met people she shouldn’t have met, let alone trusted. She rushed off from home as a teenager, and everything sort of went to hell after that. That is, until years later, when at her lowest low, she ended up at a house in the middle of nowhere.”
Swallowing, Dom stared directly at me, no more joke in his voice. “Here, in one of Barnett’s crumbling, prized houses?”
I shook my head. “Not at first. She ended up at an old farmhouse, but she doesn’t know where exactly. She says, one moment, she was turning a corner, and the next, she was there. She walked right up to the door, and there was someone waiting, as if they had known she was coming. Inside, all sorts of women stayed there with all different backgrounds and problems. They were all a little like her, unsure of where they needed to go next, but all of them ended up trusting the stars to get them there. When they left, which some never did, they were better off. They all got to start again and have a new beginning with magic gifting them the strength to do so. Now, that is magic. What other kind of word could we use to describe that?”
“Fortuitous timing.”
“Now, you’re believing in fortunes over plain old magic?” I chuckled at the way this had turned.
“Are we sure this wasn’t a cult?” Dom asked.
I wanted to roll my eyes, but …
“With Gertie?” I admitted, “Who knows? But it sounds like the closest someone has literally stumbled on real magic. Gertie left and ended up here, making a house of her own with a similar mission. Which is a good thing because I have no idea where I would’ve ended up had she not opened her door to me one night.”
“Or it could’ve been a dream.”
I rolled my eyes. “You need to open your mind more.”
He gripped the back of my neck and smirked against my lips. “Maybe you’ll make me one day.”
“Challenge accepted.” Not only was I going to make Dom see the magic of the world, but I was also going to make him love me for it. “I promise. But that isn’t what I’m trying to say here though, so you know. You got me off track.”
“What are you trying to say then?”
“That with or without magic clinging to us with a sort of hope,” I whispered as my words formed, and I shrugged at him, knowing just how I could crack through that clinical façade, “we can make it through anything.”
23
The long hem of the white cotton dress was supposed to stop at my ankles. Instead, the airy fabric dragged behind me like a train. I was only halfway down the house steps, still able to hear everyone getting dressed upstairs, when Essie nearly ran me over.
Putting up her hands, she stopped in front of me to slow down.
“Here you are!” proclaimed Essie.
