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Something was weird, that was what it was. He said that he was working from home and I said that I was on my way. As I waited for the rideshare, I made a decision: I was going to buy my own car. I needed to be able to get over to Oliver whenever I wanted, whenever I needed him! Or, what if something was wrong, and he needed me? I would have to be there as quickly as possible, lighting speed!

“Is it possible for you to go a little over the posted limit?” I asked the driver. She gave me a dirty look and said no.

“Are you serious? You’re not wearing a coat?” Oliver asked as he opened his front door. I was racing up the path, skidding where he had left some ice by mistake. I reached him and he pulled me inside. “I’m going to shovel more.”

He had just shut the door but started to turn the handle again, so I grabbed his arm. “No, not right now! I have to tell you something, something crazy! And important! And unbelievable!” I took his hands and stated: “Mrs. McGlothen is a witch.”

“Yes, I’ve never cared for her, either,” he said, nodding. “Gramps calls her that but with a ‘b’ instead. Your hands are freezing.” He smiled and tugged me toward himself, but I couldn’t start kissing him. Ever since we had done it the one time, I’d been pretty much unable to think about anything else—except we had to discuss this.

“No, no,” I said. I shook his arms. “She’s a real witch. She’s really a witch! Vera told me.”

He seemed to understand that I was serious. “A witch. Vera told you that her best friend is a witch, the pointed hat and caldron kind? We need to sit down.” He pulled me into the music room to his nice couch, and he suggested that I start from the beginning.

“I went to return her earrings and I was just going to tease her a little about Gramps,” I said. “It’s true, by the way, that they are seeing each other. She insists that it’s not serious but she also started blushing and smiling, so I don’t believe her. And they did go on vacation together, too!”

“What’s the part about the witch?”

“Mrs. McGlothen hates Gramps, which we’ve both seen, but it’s not because she calls him Ollie and he says her name is Pene-lope.”

“It’s because she made a play for him and he rejected her,” Oliver filled in.

“Yes, but Vera says that it wasn’t only about timing. She says that of course they aren’t right for each other,” I explained. “And Mrs. McGlothen’s feelings were very hurt.”

“Kat, I really want to know about the witch stuff,” he said. “Tell me about that.”

“Vera and Gramps have to keep their relationship a secret because she feels bad about going out with the guy that her friend likes. But more than that…” I paused. “Vera’s afraid of what Mrs. McGlothen might do. She’s a real witch, not like she’s green and rides a broomstick, but like she has powers. Her name before she got married was Endor,” I said. “Get it?”

He didn’t, but I hadn’t either. Vera had explained.

“The Witch of Endor was in the Bible and she had the ability to summon spirits of the dead,” I said. “There’s a little discussion over whether she was just a demon—anyway, Mrs. McGlothen is supposed to be her descendent. She mostly uses her powers for good and she doesn’t dabble much in bad stuff except…well, Vera thinks she might have had something to do with her former husband’s early demise. She also said that he was a bastard who deserved it, but she doesn’t want that to happen to Gramps.”

“Gramps knows about the witch stuff?” He sounded totally disbelieving. “He’s not one to fall for that.”

“He knows,” I swore. “He’s not afraid like Vera is, but he stays quiet for her sake.”

“Kat, honey, I know that the song and the glitter threw us both for a loop, but there’s no reason to think that our building manager is a witch.”

I was so prepared to argue that I almost missed what he had just called me. “Honey?” I repeated, smiling.

“I…yes. I’m going to call you that,” he answered. “I think it’s the right thing, along with other nicknames like ‘sweetheart’ and ‘baby.’”

My smile grew. “I like those nicknames.”

He smiled back and kissed me lightly, then a little more—but he pulled back. “Let’s finish talking about the witchcraft first,” he said. “I don’t believe it, but it clearly upset you.”

“It kind of scared me,” I admitted. “I was thinking about how Mrs. McGlothen got excited when she heard my former name, Hekate. A lot of people think she was a very powerful witch and in ancient times, people worshiped her. Some still do. But I’m not a witch myself and as much as my mom likes to pretend to be tapped into some kind of deep energy or consciousness, she isn’t, either.”

“That’s not what I would call proof.”

“I don’t know if I totally believe it, but it would explain the song,” I stated.

“You think that Mrs. McGlothen, who may or may not be a witch and who may or may not have killed her husband, cast a spell on our water pipes? Why?”

“It’s as good an explanation as anything else!” I told him. “In fact, we don’t have any other explanation at all. But I can tell you for sure that it sounded like a big band was playing when I took a shower this morning. And when I did the dishes, the hearts practically blinded me.”

“I know. The glitter is like a blizzard.” But he still seemed skeptical. “Why would Pene-lope McGlothen want to get involved with her tenants’ relationships?”

“You can’t call her that,” I answered immediately. “If she’s a witch, you don’t want to be on her bad side. But do you think that’s what’s happening? Is that the logical conclusion?”