Page 80 of Clearly Charmed

‘He’s been watching us for what looks like a while. Taking notes. Photos. When we were in the archives, I took a journal that had notes about Ambrosia and hid it, because it claimed she had magic.’ I scrubbed a hand through my hair. ‘Real. Fucking. Magic.’

She pressed her hands against her lap, her shoulders tightening up around her ears. ‘What else? When your cheeks go blotchy it means you’re hiding more.’

The flash and pop of the lights in the bathroom played on repeat in my head.

‘Did you hear how we found Mara?’

Her lips puckered. ‘Yes, Lia and Aster were here last night. They told me you weren’t exactly thinking straight when you went after her.’

She gave me that weighted look I often got when I acted before I thought something through. ‘Seems to be a repeated theme this past month.’ Her gaze flicked to the bandages covering the scrapes on my arms. ‘I’ll give that man credit. At least it appears that he looked after you.’

I pushed to my feet and walked to the railing. The early morning sun inched above the tree line, creating a mirror image against the pale blue water in the lake. Its shores slapped with a heavy current even though there was hardly any breeze.

‘Tell me what’s really bothering you. It’s about more than Bryce and his story.’

I paused, unsure how to ask the woman I’d loved and trusted my entire life if she possessed magical abilities.

‘You’d tell me…’ I hesitated because once I cracked open this can of worms, there’d be no turning back. ‘If… what that journal said was true… if we really did have magic, right?’

She tilted her head. Paused for a minute too long. ‘What makes you ask that question?’

‘One time I thought I saw…’ I shook my head, too embarrassed to admit I’d been spying on her. ‘When I was about twelve we used to make s’mores by the campfire all the time.’

‘I remember. It was your grandfather’s favorite part of the summer.’

‘One night, I thought I saw you light the fire with nothing but a snap of your fingers. And then I read about Ambrosia. That the locals believed she’d used magic to burn down her house with her abusive husband inside.’

She didn’t answer. Instead, she rose and disappeared into the house. A minute later she was back, her right hand clutched into a fist. Her fingers unfurled, showing me a basic red-tipped match. ‘Your great-grandfather, Davis, used to take me out into the woods on long weekends. He was a survivalist and insisted I learn how to take care of myself in case I ever got lost.’ With a quick flick of her thumb across the top of the match, she brought it to a blaze.

‘Holy shit,’ I murmured.

‘It’s a good party trick, but it’s not magic, Dandelion.’ She blew out the flame. ‘What I said the other night to Bryce was true. What men don’t understand, they villainize. After her husband died, Ambrosia sold the mercantile. She and her mother, Sylvia, ran the apothecary, and it did well.’ She reached out and held my hands. ‘The men did not like their autonomy. Called them witches to try and strip their power away. These days they’ve changed the word from “witch” to “bitch”, but it’s still meant to steal women’s agency.’

‘But even if it’s not real, Bryce can claim it is. That could be a lot of clicks and likes for him. It would bring more people to town. Make the tourists act even stranger than they already do. And after the last article…’ All I could do was deflate back into the chair next to her.

‘Would that change how you go about your life? How you care for the animals at your clinic? What about Lia? Would she stop her important work? Would Aster keep quiet about what she felt and saw?’

‘No. We’d push on like we always do.’

‘When Bryce first arrived, I was afraid too. But now that I’ve had time to think about it, I’m not. People here have watched you girls grow up and become an important part of this community. We got through the scandal with the Denver reporter. This will pass too.’

I didn’t believe her. During those darker days, I’d been a witness to the way the shop owners flinched when she’d entered their businesses. Treated her like she was some kind of demonic entity. She’d tried to hide it from me, but on those long rides home she’d gripped the steering wheel in either anger or fear, her steely resolve never revealing which.

She reached out and squeezed my hand. ‘The McGuire women have been through a lot harder things than one article in a national magazine.’

I owed this woman so much. She looked after me and my sisters in a quiet and resilient way, which gave us wings. Allowed us to carve our own path in spite of Belladonna’s whirlwind interferences. I could say ‘thank you’ a million times to her, and it would never be enough. She may have not agreed, but I needed to protect her now, the way she’d always looked out for me.

‘While you’re here, we should probably talk about another matter.’ She shifted uncomfortably in the chair as the screen door squeaked open. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, the world proved me wrong.

‘Hello, my precious Dandelion. How come you haven’t been answering my emails?’

Streaks of gray threaded through Belladonna’s dyed black hair. A cavern of lines cut into the areas around her eyes and mouth. That signature deep brown lipstick she always wore bled around the outline of her thin lips.

Clo withered at my pained gaze. ‘She arrived late last night. I couldn’t turn her away.’

My first thought wasn’t about how my mother had once again showed up unannounced. Or how she had crappy timing. My immediate concern was Lia and Aster. What kind of trouble our mother’s presence would cause them.

‘I’m not in the mood for pleasantries this morning. Why are you here, and how soon can I get you to leave?’