Tug of Attraction (28 page)

“Brigit, what do you see?”

“Uh...it’s kind of personal.”

Personal? My mother has something personal to say to a woman she’s just met but won’t talk to me?
He wanted to get angry. Yell. Punch a pillow. All of which would ruin Brigit’s concentration. He steeled himself to walk away and say, ‘What the fuck?’ later.

#

I
t was clear to Brigit what Mrs. Cox wanted.
Get a grip, Brigit. Just because a ghost gives you her opinion doesn’t mean you have to listen to it.
For some reason, she knew she was kidding herself.

She clearly saw Ethan putting a ring on her finger. It was the amethyst she had seen him place on the altar some months ago. He had said it was his mother’s ring, and her mother’s before that. Obviously, his mother thought she should be the next in line to wear it.

“I—I think I understand what you’re saying. But you have to understand, I promised something different.”

Uh-oh.
Mrs. Cox looked angry. She jammed her hands on her hips. Brigit still had her eyes closed, but she could see the woman as if she were standing before her.

Suddenly another picture formed in her mind. She was sitting on a bench, holding a pink blanket. When she took a good look at the blanket, it was empty.
Oh, God. Is she saying I’ll lose the baby? Or that Ethan will fight me for custody and win?
She just couldn’t see him doing that. Maybe she needed his health insurance, for—for the unthinkable.

A lump formed in her throat and the spirit’s expression seemed to soften. Another picture formed in Brigit’s mind. A happy family in the very living room she was sitting in now. Ethan holding the child’s hands and walking with her toward Brigit. Then letting go and their little girl taking the few steps to her mother.
Her first steps.

By now, tears were rolling down Brigit’s cheeks and she whispered, “But, he hasn’t asked me...”

* * * *

H
anna was waiting for Mr. Blake, Michele’s step-dad, in his living room. She’d been there for an hour and had divided her time between pacing and sitting on his couch.

At last she heard a car in the driveway, and a moment later his side door rattled like a key in a sticky lock.

Please be Alex Blake and not some lock-picking intruder.

A tanned gentleman with salt and pepper hair breezed in. She didn’t really remember what her friend’s husband looked like, so she hoped this was him.

He halted in his path to the kitchen when he caught sight of her. Before he had a chance to panic, she introduced herself.

“Hello. My name is Hazel Meriwether. I was a long-time friend of your dear departed wife.”

“How did you get in here?” he demanded.

“Before we get into that, I need to tell you that my reason for being here is of the utmost importance, and I beg you to hear me out.”

His eyes widened. “Is Michele all right?”

“That’s what I’m hoping. Actually, I haven’t seen her in quite some time, but I’m looking for her.”

Alex snorted. “And what makes you think I know where she is?”

What could she say? Because you sold her car?
He’s obviously protecting her.
Hanna took a few steps toward him and he didn’t retreat. That was a good sign. At least he didn’t feel threatened.

“I—I know why she ran. I figured she’d go to you for protection. I want her safe too. I was her high priestess when she lived in Portsmouth.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Okay. I know Michele thinks she’s a witch, but you need to realize I don’t believe in that nonsense.”

Hanna shrugged. “That’s fine. You don’t have to believe. I just ask you to call her and give her the option of speaking with me. What can that hurt? If she doesn’t want to talk to me, I’ll respect her wishes.” Hanna made it look like she was clasping her hands behind her back, but she was actually crossing her fingers.

“You must be pretty confident that she’ll talk to you. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come all this way.” He sighed. “Why don’t you have a seat in the kitchen. Can I get you a beer or something?”

At last she seemed to be getting somewhere. “Yes. Thank you, kindly.”

He shook his head on the way to the refrigerator and she hoped it wasn’t a stalling tactic. Even if it was, if she could just get him to make that phone call, she might be able to use her magical GPS and transport herself to Michele—wherever she was. Following airwaves was tricky, but witches had come a long way from riding brooms in the moonlight.

She sat at his kitchen table and he placed a glass in front of her. Then he opened the beer and set it beside the glass, allowing her to pour it herself.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and moved down a hallway.

She closed her eyes and tried to hone in on the call. To her delight, she could ‘hear’ both sides of the conversation. The odd thing was Michele’s greeting. Apparently she was working in a place called, ‘The Enchanted Broom,’ because that’s how she answered the phone.

“Hi honey,” Alex said. “There’s someone at my house who wants to speak to you. She said her name is Hazel Meriwether.”

“Hazel? Oh!” she exclaimed. “That’s Hanna. My old high priestess.”

Old? I’ll assume she means ‘former’ since forty is really not that old.

“She said her name was Hazel.”

“Yeah. It is...in real life. Her witch name is Hanna.”

“Witch names? Never mind. Don’t bother explaining it. Just tell me what to do with her.”

“Send her over. I’d love to see her.”

“Are you sure?” Alex sounded doubtful. “We went to a helluva lot of trouble to keep anyone from your past from finding you.”

“I know. But Hanna...Well, she’s different. I trust her to keep my location to herself. And if she’s already found you...”

“I get that you trust
her,
but do you think she could have been followed?”

Michele chuckled. “I doubt it. Listen, put her on the phone. I’ll speak to her.”

“All right. I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.

A few footfalls later, Alex reappeared and extended the phone to her. “Here you go, Hazel or Hanna—whoever you are. She wants to talk to you. Keep it short, just in case.”

“I understand,” Hanna said. She took the phone and got right to the point. “Michele, can I see you? It’s very important.”

“Please. I’d love to see you. Let me give you directions to my shop.”

Ah, so she has her own magical shop.
Hanna remembered her wish to open a shop like Myranda’s someday. She couldn’t help being proud of her for accomplishing her dream—despite the challenges she’d had to face.

Hanna took down the directions and said, “I’ll see you in a...” She was about to say a second, and then remembered that Alex was nearby, probably listening. “A few minutes,” she finished.

“See you in a few.”

They hung up and Hanna was tempted to let out a huge sigh of relief. Then Alex appeared from around the corner and said, “I’ll drive you.”

* * * *

E
than remained in his kitchen, trying to give Brigit her privacy as he made a pot of coffee. He slammed the coffee pot a little too hard on the counter, but thankfully it didn’t crack. He hoped whatever his dear departed mother had to say to his girlfriend was something she could share with him later.

Why, if she had the ability to visit, hadn’t she made her presence known to him? The question niggled at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Did Charlotte know?

“Hey, Charlotte...”

“I’m here,” she said.

“Has my mother visited before?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

Ethan gripped the countertop, closed his eyes and counted to ten.

At last he was able to calmly ask, “Why?”

“Because she made me promise not to.”

He smiled.

“Damn it! You tricked me.”

“Now that the cat is out of the bag, can you tell me why she hasn’t spoken to me? I can’t help feeling a little hurt.” He knew if he played on her sympathy, she might try to reassure him with a little more information.

“Oh. Don’t feel that way. She doesn’t get to visit very often, and all she wants to do is check in and see how you are. She doesn’t want to influence you. She says you’re doing a better job of living your life than she did hers.”

“She told you this, but she didn’t tell me?”

“She might not be able to. I don’t know. She’s coming from the other side of the veil. I’m stuck here, on this plane. If it’s any consolation, she says she’s at peace.”

That made sense. And knowing she had finally found peace of mind made him feel ten times better. No—a thousand times better.

“She’s proud of the man you’ve become, Ethan. Very proud.”

It was all he could do to choke back the tears threatening to form. He didn’t even try to talk anymore. He just finished making his coffee and leaned against the counter while he waited for it to brew.

“She likes what you’ve done with the place.”

He snorted. “I take it you never mentioned the remodel was my stepmother’s idea.”

“I have some common sense and discretion, you know.”

He nodded. “Yes you do. And I appreciate that.”

Brigit appeared in the doorway, wiping away a tear. He strode over to her and grasped her shoulders. “Are you all right? What did she say?”

“I—I...”

He waited patiently. She slipped her arms around his waist and leaned into him. He pulled her to his chest and caressed her back. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it—together.”

“It isn’t anything bad. At first I thought it was, but she cleared that up.”

“So these are tears of relief?”

She nodded against his chest.

Whew. He had thought maybe his mother had given her some kind of dire prediction. Spirits from the other side of the veil might be able to see the future.

“So...what’s the problem?”

Brigit leaned away, gazed into his eyes, and inhaled deeply. “Ethan Cox. I love you, and I want you in my life.”

He tilted his head and scrutinized her. “Exactly what do you mean by that?”

“I—uh...” She twisted her hands.

“It’s okay, Bridge. I just don’t want any misunderstandings between us. Tell me exactly what you want.”

She gazed up at him. “I want us to live together.”

He grinned. “Best news I’ve had all year.”

She chuckled. “It’s only January second.”

“I imagine there will be more good news this year.” He leaned down to capture her lips in a tender kiss. She opened to him. Their tongues met and as they stroked each other, the inevitable fire sprang up between them.

When they finally pulled apart, panting, Ethan announced, “Any spirits present need to stay downstairs for the next hour or so.”

He picked up Brigit, causing her to squeal in surprise, and then carried her giggling form up the stairs to his bedroom.

H
anna strolled around Michele’s occult shop, marveling at the way it differed from Myranda’s. “You’ve done a wonderful job here, Michele. But why all the Goth?”

Michele giggled and had the decency to look abashed. “I’m sorry, Hanna. This is such a different city than Portsmouth. Up North, people, including occasional tourists, understand that we take the craft seriously...That it’s an integrated part of our lives. Down here, it’s largely tourists looking for entertainment. We still practice in all seriousness, teach ethics in our classes, sell only safe ingredients and insure people are using them wisely, but for the most part, people want jewelry and fortune teller-type readings.”

“Of course. You know your audience best.”

“In this case, we really are talking about an audience. Business was kind of slow until we added a little atmosphere.”

“Well, at least you didn’t add spider webs.” Hanna ran her hand along a heavy chain that secured a display shelf to the wall.

Her pregnant business partner Savern added, “But on the bright side, we’d never have to dust again if we didn’t want to.”

Michele chuckled. “Don’t worry, Hanna. We treat our magical items with respect—as well as our serious customers.”

Hanna nodded. “I’m just glad you seem happy.” She enveloped Michele into a sincere hug. “We were all so worried about you when you disappeared last midsummer night.”

“I know. But you understand why, right?”

Hanna worried her lip. “I understand it had to do with a certain witch who went dark. Someone you used to date, I believe.”

“Yes. Thank you for not speaking his name. Let’s go into the back room.”

Michele led her down a short hallway to an adjacent room. Happily, the large rectangular space held none of the cheesy ‘atmosphere’ that tourists expected of witchcraft.

“This is kind of our everything room. In the front section, we do our readings. Behind the screens we hold our classes. We have storage back there too.” She opened a folding chair by the moon and star tablecloth covered card table. ‘Have a seat.”

Hanna nodded at the practical set-up and took the seat offered. She wanted to get right to the point, but didn’t wish to be rude after not seeing her star pupil for so long.

Thankfully, Michele saved her the trouble. “I know you said something was of utmost importance...”

Hanna breathed a sigh of relief. “It is. Do you remember when you were seven and both you and your mother visited my apartment at the time?” 

“How could I forget?” Michele gave her a meaningful look, which must have referred to her contact with the grail.

Just to be on the safe side, Hanna needed to spell it out. “And you remember that ugly cup and what happened when you touched it?”

Michele nodded. “It lit up like a Christmas tree. Does your visit have something to do with the grail?”

“Yes. I guess your mother told you what it really was.”

“In a way. She said it was some kind of ancient, mysterious object and that you had been entrusted with it for safe-keeping.”

“That’s all true. But, there’s more to it.”

“I figured as much.”

“Michele, what I have to tell you has to stay between us.”

“It will.”

Hanna hesitated. Should she make Michele swear to it? The other witch’s solemn expression told her she didn’t need to.