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“Me too.”
Hazel took a small sip of the contents of the glass and made a face. “Yuck! Why do they make peach flavored water so sour?”
“I like peach water.”
“Are you drinking this, or am I?” Hazel asked, exasperated.
“Well, I kind of hoped you’d share.” Irene leaned against the counter and watched Hazel intently.
Hazel paused a minute, looking at the glass. “Is there a packet of sugar anywhere? Near the coffee pot maybe?”
Irene craned her neck to look across the room. “I think so.”
Hazel looked at her, annoyed. “Well, do you think you might hand me one?”
“What are you doing, Hazel?” Irene hadn’t moved.
“I told you. I’m going to turn this glass of water into wine. Now, I’d like it to be drinkable when I do, so would youpleaseget me a packet of sugar?”
“Why not just go back to your apartment?”
“I don’t have any alcohol there.”
“A bar, then.”
Hazel threw up her hands. “I’ll get it myself.” She rummaged through the canisters.
“What if this backfires and you blow something up?”
“It’s not going to backfire, and there’s nothing to blow up. All I need is this glass, the water, and an incantation.” Hazel sniffed. “I have everything under control.”
Irene held her hands up in defense. “If you say so. Fire away.”
“Thank you.” Hazel rolled her eyes. “Now. I need to concentrate on what I’m doing.”
“Okay. What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing. Just be quiet.”
“I can do that.”
“You’re still talking, Irene.”
“Sorry.”
Hazel closed her eyes briefly and centered herself. The only thing that existed for her was the glass of water in front of her.
“Glass of fruit fresh from the vine --”
“I seriously doubt a peach would fit in that glass. Doesn’t your incantation need to be a bit more realistic?”
“Did I mention I needed quiet?”
“I was just pointing out a flaw in your spell.”
“It’s not a flaw. How would you know if it was a flaw?”
“Well, I’ve been helping you almost since you started learning witchcraft. I think I’ve learned a thing or two along the way.”
