By Magic Alone (37 page)

“Yes, yes. Introductions.” Verda winked. “I know how to use Google. And people don’t keep secrets from me for long. You’re forgiven, dear. Let’s move on, please.”

“Okay. Well, thank you. That certainly makes things easier.” Now what? Should I simply tell them everything I knew, everything I thought I knew, and go from there? Deciding that was the best avenue, I started with the journal, which I pulled from my purse. “Scot doesn’t know about this, does he?”

Verda shook her head. “But I don’t see why we need to discuss that now.”

“What is that, Grandma?” Elizabeth and Alice asked at the same time.

“Oh, nothing really. I’ve found it . . . ah . . . helps my clients if they write their thoughts down.” Verda narrowed her eyes at me. “Julia, dear, that is for your private use. We discussed that, didn’t we?”

Chloe gasped. Her eyes rounded. “You didn’t . . . Oh, you did.” She reached a hand out. “Can I see the journal?”

My cheeks grew warm, but I passed it over. “Please don’t read beyond the inscription from Verda. The rest is . . . personal.”

After reading the inscription, Chloe gave the book to Alice, who then gave it to Elizabeth. “You gave Julia the ability to use your magic?” Elizabeth asked. “That was a risky move, Grandma. I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“I did, and yes, it is. But that’s of no concern right now.” Verda straightened her frail shoulders in a defensive line. “She needed the magic. And it brought her here, so there’s no harm done.” Verda’s lips twitched. “You did need the magic, Julia. You can see that, can’t you?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Finding out that magic is real was my first step in believing in . . . well, in love. In ghosts. In . . . in soul mates.”

“But magic can be dangerous. Unpredictable.” Alice reclaimed the journal and gave it back to me. “Anything could have happened, Grandma.”

Verda huffed out an exasperated breath. “I took the proper precautions.” Focusing on me, she said, “Did anything bad happen as a result of your wishes?”

“No. Not at all.” But I’d used the magic sparingly and with great caution. Well, except for the passion spell. Still, maybe
rational
and
practical
weren’t such bad adjectives, after all.

I stood and crossed the room. “But Verda, as much as I appreciate this gift, I don’t want it anymore. I don’t need it
anymore, either.” I put the journal in her hands. “I need you to take this back.”

She accepted the book with a nod, and I returned to my seat.

“Do all of you have powers of some sort? Magic . . . whatever?” I asked.

Uneasiness drifted through the room, but no one spoke. Apparently, I’d stepped solidly into one of the no-no topics.

“Fine. I’ll take that as a yes. Can you somehow tell me more? Because Scot became really upset when he realized I had brownies from Elizabeth’s bakery.”

“Why do you think that is?” Elizabeth asked. “If you say something first, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know on that topic.”

“Your magic is through your baking,” I guessed. “Scot thinks you cast a wish in regard to my feelings for him, and that’s why he was upset.” If I weren’t so keyed-up, I might have laughed at the look on Elizabeth’s face. “How am I doing?”

“Quite well, actually. And you know who Miranda is?” Elizabeth prodded.

“A ghost. Your great-great-great-grandmother.”

“Yes. Have you given any thought to who she was in life?” This came from Alice.

“No. But . . . Oh! The magic comes from her,” I guessed. Alice’s nod told me I was right. “And that would have to mean she was a . . . a witch?”

Verda laughed. “Not quite, but close enough to hear the rest. Her name is Miranda Ayres, and she was a Gypsy with great power.”

“She almost cursed the man who broke her heart, but instead created a gift to be passed from one daughter to another,” Chloe jumped in. “And that gift is—”

“Magic,” Elizabeth said. “But it manifests itself differently
in each of her daughters. You already know that Grandma Verda’s power is in her writing.”

“And yours is in your baking,” I said, glancing at Alice and then Chloe. “What about you two?”

“Mine is gone. Well, kind of. For the most part.” Chloe shrugged as if the admission weren’t a big deal, but I kind of thought there was a story behind that. She didn’t look eager to share it at the moment, though. “And Alice can use her artwork to create pictures of the past and the future. Drawings and paintings.”

I thought of the beautiful painting in Verda’s office at Magical Matchups. Now I understood how Alice re-created a scene from so long ago without a photograph. With magic. Wow. An entire family of Gypsies.

At some point I hoped to hear more, but today I was on a mission. Returning my attention to Elizabeth, I asked, “So, did you cast a wish on those brownies?”

“I did, but not the wish Scot thought. I know better than to alter anyone’s feelings.” Elizabeth squirmed, and guilt flashed over her features. “Because of the . . . of things that Grandma has shared with me, I also believe that it’s important for Scot to find his soul mate.”

“So you think Verda’s right, and Scot and I are . . . supposed to be together?” As soon as I asked, I wished I hadn’t. Never ask a question to which you might not like the answer.

Elizabeth bit her lip and glanced at Alice. “I don’t know. But Grandma is sure. I wanted to give you both a chance, in case she was right.”

Fair enough. “So, what was your wish?”

“That you and Scot would relax your defenses a little, so you might be able to really get to know each other. That was it. I’m careful in how I use the magic, Julia. I know you have no reason to believe me, but—”

“I do believe you.” I mean, why would she lie? “Does Scot know this?” Because if he did, if he knew magic wasn’t to blame for my feelings, then why hadn’t he contacted me?

“He does. But he . . . well, he’s stubborn. Once he heard everything, he . . .” Elizabeth sighed. “I can’t say anything else on this topic. Not without breaking my promise.”

“Please, Elizabeth. I came here because of a ghost. Your great-great-great-grandmother. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“It does. It means a lot, but I can’t. I’m sorry, Julia,” Elizabeth said. And she was. I could hear it in her voice. “But Scot has his reasons. He’s my brother. I have to stand behind him.”

“Right. Of course.” I tried to work out what my next step should be but came up blank. I mean, yeah, I planned on talking with Scot, but it would help hugely if I knew more. My rational brain demanded as many facts as possible before putting my heart on the firing line again. “Did . . . did he say how he feels about me?”

Heavy silence drenched the room. My heart cracked.

“Not in so many words,” Chloe said carefully. “He was just very adamant in us leaving you alone.”

“Well, yeah. If he’s worried you’re all going to magically coerce me . . .” I tried to make a joke out of it, but no one laughed. The atmosphere in the room reminded me of the calm before a storm. “Why does he want you to leave me alone?”

No one answered. There was something else they weren’t sharing. “Verda? Why is it so important that Scot find his soul mate?”

She shifted her gaze away from me. “I can’t say.”

Tension swirled in the air, thick and heavy. “Well, what
can
you say?”

Verda didn’t respond. It was obvious she wanted to. Her entire body angled forward, and in her eyes, I saw that if I
pushed, she’d give in and tell me everything. It was on the tip of my tongue to do just that, but then I thought of Scot. Of how much he loved his family. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—be the reason any of these women broke a promise. That could hurt their relationship with Scot, and mine too, if we ever got that far.

Fine. I’d pull up my big-girl pants, shield my heart the best I could, and go directly to the source. Probably what I should’ve done in the first place.

“This was a mistake. I’m so sorry I put you all in this position. Please forgive me.” I looked at Elizabeth, then Alice, then Chloe, and finally, Verda. “I truly hope I see you all again. Thank you for doing what you could.”

“I have faith,” Chloe said with a smile. “Go get him, Julia. I’m rooting for you.”

“Thanks,” I said again.

Somehow, I managed to make a graceful exit. And hey, not one tear. I was making progress. I crawled into my car and laid my forehead on the steering wheel. God, that conversation was out-of-the-ballpark odd.

A sharp rap sounded off next to my ear. I looked up and saw Alice. She gestured to roll the window down. I did that one better and opened the door.

“Actually, can I slide in the other side? Just for a minute?” she asked with a quick look over her shoulder. “It won’t take long.”

“Sure. Hop in.”

She did, and when both doors were closed she turned toward me. Her wide brown eyes held worry but also warmth. Huge surprise. “The other night, when you were here for dinner, I wasn’t very welcoming. I owe you an apology, Julia. My rudeness really wasn’t about you—which isn’t an excuse, but it is the truth.”

I took her words at face value and nodded. “It’s cool, Alice. I appreciate the apology.”

“Thank you . . . but I’d like to explain. Grandma came to us a while back, before she opened Magical Matchups, and told us that she had to find Scot’s soul mate. That it was imperative,” Alice said, her voice quavering. “She didn’t tell us why, but she . . . she believed that she had to do this quickly. Before she dies.”

“Oh! Oh, God, Alice. That had to have been difficult to hear.” Especially in a family where magic and ghosts were fact and not fiction.

“Exactly. I love her. I don’t want to lose her, even though I know I’ll have to face that eventually, whether Scot falls in love or not. But this belief of hers—”

“Programmed you not to like me the second Verda said I’m Scot’s soul mate.” Whoa. Yep, that would account for Alice’s chilly attitude. I couldn’t even blame her. But I didn’t know what to say, other than “I’m sorry.”

Tears sparkled in Alice’s eyes. “But that’s not why I wanted to talk to you in private.”

“I really would prefer you not break a promise to Scot, Alice. I—”

“I’m not. He doesn’t know about this.” Reaching into her coat, Alice pulled out a folded piece of paper. A shiver of anticipation mixed with apprehension trickled over me. “I drew this the other night, after everyone left.”

“Is this one of your”—I gulped—“magical drawings?”

“It is. Before you look at it, though, there’s something you need to understand about the way my magic works.” She paused, considered her words, and then said, “I recently learned that my drawings of the future are not always absolute. With Chloe, I actually drew four different pictures depicting four different futures.”

“Oh.” I sifted this information and realized that even magic can be rational. Who knew? “That sounds right, Alice. Our actions and decisions can shift our future from one minute to the next, right? So whatever you drew the night I had dinner here might already have changed.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” She offered me the paper. “But I think it’s worthwhile for you to look at this.”

I accepted the drawing but didn’t open it immediately. I believed what I’d just said, so no matter what future this drawing depicted, that didn’t mean I hadn’t already altered my course. But my want to know was strong. How could I not look? Besides, I’d come here today to get all of the facts. This was another to add to the pile.

“Okay. I’m going to open it.” I inhaled a deep breath. “Now. I’m going to open it now.”

I unfolded the paper quickly, before doubt could set in. When the drawing was open fully, I stared, trying to make sense of what I saw. “This looks like a family portrait.”

“Yes,” Alice said. She leaned in closer and pointed. “I’m here with Ethan and Rose. Look how beautiful she is! Elizabeth and Nate are over here, with a toddler on his lap.” I didn’t have to see Alice’s face to know she was grinning. “Chloe and Ben . . . and look, they have
two
babies. Joe is standing in the back, with his arm around a woman I haven’t met yet. This . . . this is Sheridan, Chloe’s sister. I don’t know who the teenage girl with her is, but she kind of looks like Chloe, doesn’t she?”

I’d stopped listening. I found what I wanted to see. “Not necessarily absolute, huh?”

“Not necessarily. No. But you’re here, Julia. With Scot and a son, just like Grandma said. He looks to be about three, wouldn’t you say? It’s so hard to tell.” Alice’s finger ran across the page to the other side. “My parents are over here, and
Mom is holding another baby. Maybe mine and Ethan’s. Maybe yours and Scot’s. I don’t know. But you’re here.” She laughed. “And so are a whole lot of children. I can’t wait to meet them all.”

“I don’t see Verda,” I said softly. “She’s not here.”

“No, she isn’t.” Alice’s voice caught. “But this is what? At least four years from now, maybe five. I guess it isn’t a surprise, but I would’ve liked to see her here. We look happy, though. All of us.”

“Yeah, we do.” Ridiculously happy, even. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” Tears clouded my vision. I sat up straight and turned my head, away from Alice. “Can I keep this? Even if only to make a copy?”

That way, if I’d already changed this future, if this day was now out of my reach, I’d have a visual reminder of what could have been.

“Of course you can. I already have a copy. This one is for you.” Alice’s hand brushed across my shoulders. “I’m going to go inside now, before they all wonder what I’m doing out here. But in case you want to go in search of my brother, I wrote his address on the back. It’s actually my old place, and before that, it was Grandma’s. I wasn’t sure if you’d been there or not.”

I hadn’t, but I didn’t say so. Instead, I thanked her again. When she was out of the car, I drove up the road a bit before pulling over. So I could stare at Alice’s sketch of me, my son, and—I had to assume—my husband.

I punched Scot’s address into my GPS. I wanted this future, and I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for it happen. After hearing me out, if Scot didn’t want the same future, I’d deal with it. But damn me if I wasn’t going to try.