Page 69 of The Book of Magic

Antonia held on to Kylie’s arm so she wouldn’t trip on the bluestone path that led through the falling shadows. “Why do they keeping turning off the porch light?” Antonia muttered.

“That’s your mother’s decision,” Gillian informed them. “No neighbors need come to call.”

“Call for what?” Kylie asked. The family had kept secrets from Kylie and Antonia, at Sally’s insistence. To them, magic was little more than a story in a book of fairy tales.

A small dog came out, yapping at them.

“What’s going on here?” Antonia wanted to know. “Who is this creature?”

It was explained that Jet was watching over Reverend Willard’s dog, and that she had gone to fetch Sally and would meet them at the inn. The tomato seedlings were left in the garden, and they all traipsed into the kitchen, where half a Chocolate Tipsy Cake sat on a platter on the marble counter.

“Why wait for dinner?” Gillian grinned, getting some cake plates from the cabinet. “We can have chocolate cake as an appetizer.”

“I can’t eat that,” Antonia scolded. “All that rum? It’s much too alcoholic.”

“Sorry.” Gillian felt like a fool. Of course, a pregnant woman couldn’t have rum, not the amount that was in this recipe. In many ways Antonia reminded her of Sally, so sure of herself, so logical and matter-of-fact, always wanting clear-cut evidence before she made a decision. “Of course you can’t,” Gillian apologized.

“I can,” Kylie said, looping one arm around Gillian’s waist. “I’ll have her slice, too.”

Dear Kylie, who had grown so tall so fast, reaching her full height by the time she was ten, coming to her aunt Gillian to ask in a small voice if she might be a giant. In fact, she was a true beauty, with long hair that glinted copper in certain slants of light, and gray-green eyes, but she had a nervous disposition and couldn’t sit still. She had been a runner in high school and it often seemed as if she might take off at a fast clip at any given moment. Men stopped on the street when they saw her, mouths open, but she never even noticed.

Kylie ate her cake with her fingers, as she had when she was five years old, in heaven from the very first bite. She still considered Chocolate Tipsy Cake to be the best dessert in the world. She wished that Gideon were here with her. He would have probably finished the rest of the cake with ease.

“What are you thinking about?” Franny asked her great-niece. “Your face is all lit up.”

“Nothing,” Kylie was quick to say. She was discreet about all things, taught to be so by living in a town where people tended to judge the Owenses and gossip was rampant. Her love life was her own business, not that she was making that sort of admission to anyone, not even to members of her own family. “No one,” she insisted even though Franny was giving her that stern look she always had when she didn’t believe a word you said.

They had the best table in the dining room, thanks to Jet having helped the host with his love life several years ago. When the fiddler started up they could barely hear him, which was all for the best. “Yoo-hoo,” Jet called when the family arrived. “We’ve already ordered the macaroni and cheese as a starter.”

There was a great deal of hugging, but Franny was out of sorts. “Seriously? The macaroni and cheese?”

“We never eat that,” Sally said, agreeing with her aunt. “It’s totally unhealthy.”

“Well, just tonight, as a lark,” Jet said. “Just this once.”

Jet was so apologetic and sweet, Franny felt guilty complaining about the food, which was known far and wide to be terrible, and she buried her head in the oversized menu, lest anyone see that her eyes were brimming with tears. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to the inn, and most of the customers were nervous in her presence, convinced she could perceive their wrongdoings and transgressions and that they would be made to atone for thoughtless deeds by the use of witchery. One fool went so far as to send Franny a bottle of wine, hoping to win her favor, but she sent it right back, with a note scribbled on a napkin. Be faithful to your wife and you have nothing to fear.

Jet, on the other hand, was delighted to see her neighbors, many of whom had found their way to the Owenses’ front door over the years in search of tonics and remedies, receiving their fair share of green magic, horseradish and cayenne for coughs, Fever Tea for flu, black mustard seed for those plagued by nightmares. Several members of the waitstaff had waved, delighted to see her, for many had been clients as well.

“I wish someone had told me you were coming for dinner,” Sally murmured to Gillian.

“I thought you knew. Anyway, we’re here now and we’re staying the night.”

“I’m never included,” Sally said, stealing a glance at her daughters.

“You could be if you wanted to be,” Gillian said. “You’re always working.”

“Of course, I want to be.” It was true, Sally had been more and more distant, and she regretted it. She was grouchy and had become something of a loner, and that was not who she wanted to be. “Let’s kick the girls out of the attic and sleep up there.” Long ago, Sally and Gillian had shared the attic; they’d sat out on the roof on summer nights counting stars.

“Don’t you look wonderful,” Jet said to Antonia, who frankly was relieved that there was something to eat set out on the table. She didn’t understand how it was possible for her to be so hungry, but she was and she spooned up the macaroni and cheese.

“I’m uber-healthy,” Antonia told her aunt. “No sugar, no coffee, no alcohol.”

“You don’t wish there was someone to help you when the baby comes?” Jet wanted to know.

“Women have been having babies on their own since the beginning of time, Jetty. And besides, I have Scott and Joel. We’re in this together, and they’re constantly on my case. I don’t eat enough, apparently.” Antonia took note of the worry on Jet’s face. “I don’t need someone special, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m too busy to fall in love. Besides, I’m not even sure I believe in it.”

“You will,” Jet assured her. “It will make a mess of things and your life will never be the same, but it will happen. No one is immune.”