Authors: Debora Geary
A crowd of people she knew and more love than she’d ever thought
possible—and still, she felt alone.
No.
She felt
lonely.
It weighed heavy—and it made her sad in a tugging, achy
way that made her want to slide into a corner and hide.
A hand pulled on hers.
Ginia grinned up, a plate of food in her hand.
“Come with me.
Melvin’s hungry, and he wants you to come sit with him.”
Elsie sighed.
And
followed—Ginia wasn’t giving her much of a choice.
She slid onto the couch beside Melvin, kissing his cheek in
welcome.
He really was delightful,
even if she was fairly certain he was simply taking pity on her.
“It’s good to see you again—I
didn’t know you were coming.”
He smiled and took the plate from Ginia.
“This new ability to zap through the
computer has added joy to our lives.
Today I get to eat with friends, and perhaps cheer up one who’s feeling
a bit lonely.”
He aimed a fork at
his spaghetti.
“You’ll have to
tell me if I get sauce on my chin—noodles are a bit tricky for a blind
man.”
It was so easy to forget he couldn’t see when he discerned so
much.
“It’s silly to be lonely in
a house full of friends.”
“Loneliness has no rules.”
His voice had the kind of empathy that spoke of deep experience.
“You have Vero.”
And it was hard to imagine there being any room for loneliness with that
woman’s magnificent, exuberant presence in your life.
“Yes.”
His smile
was sweet, and tinged with something Elsie didn’t quite understand.
“But I didn’t always.
To know that you seek something, but
haven’t yet found it, leaves an emptiness.
Space waiting to be filled.
That can be very hard.”
He understood.
She
had no idea how, really—but he did.
“My life is so much more full than it was.
Why is it the empty spaces I’m feeling all of a sudden?”
His hand reached for hers, the calm strength in his fingers
soothing even as she let herself truly touch the unhappiness inside.
His words were quiet.
“It’s the fullness that’s giving you
the courage to look and to feel that which isn’t full yet.”
She tried to find hope in his words—and instead found only
heaviness.
“Will it always be that
way?
Fill up some parts, discover
new emptiness?”
It was exhausting to
even consider.
“Yes and no.”
He
smiled, his face turned to hers.
“There are always little discoveries, new spaces that open up and wait
to be filled.
But you seek a
purpose for your life, and perhaps a partner for that lovely heart of
yours.
To sit with those empty, and
not rush to fill them, takes rare courage.”
He patted her hand.
“And rare courage can sometimes be very lonely.”
Sitting on the couch with a wonderful old man made it feel less
lonely.
Elsie tucked her head into
his shoulder, content to simply sit a while in the beautiful company of someone
who understood.
~ ~ ~
Life was so much easier when he was the business wunderkind
instead of the twenty-two-year-old third wheel.
Josh eyed Lizard, sitting over in the corner with Uncle
Charlie, and wondered how to salvage the evening.
Dinner at Jamie’s house had sounded innocent enough.
He should have known better.
It was rapidly becoming clear that
Witch Central was about as innocent as the Italian mob.
Then again, he should have figured that out the first time
Jennie came to check him out.
Any
woman who had Charlie Tosh’s respect shouldn’t be taken lightly.
And Lizard looked like she was rapidly
adding herself to that pile.
Not that he took her lightly.
At all.
But she was making him more than a little nuts.
The kind of nuts that had him standing
in corners talking to himself in the presence of a roomful of people.
Smart people.
Smart, meddling people who could read minds.
“We try not to do that a whole bunch,” said Lauren, handing him
a beer.
“The reading minds
part.
Sorry—occasionally I
pick up the end of something, but in general we try not to.”
He tried hard not to feel invaded.
“Until last week, the only witches I knew had pointy hats
and trick-or-treat bags.”
“I know how you feel.”
Lauren leaned companionably against the wall.
“That was me six months ago.”
She swigged her beer.
“At least nobody’s telling you that you’re a witch.”
He had to ask.
“What happened?”
“Jamie showed up on my doorstep, levitated some plates, told me
I had magical powers, and totally upended my life.”
She grinned.
“So you’re getting off fairly easy.”
He tried to imagine discovering you could mindread—and
then the first part of Lauren’s sentence sank in.
“He can levitate plates?”
She stared at him a moment—and then winced.
“Crap.
What exactly did Jamie tell you about his abilities?”
Okay, he’d suddenly fallen into a Harry Potter movie.
“That he can pick up some thoughts and
feelings from other minds.
And
that he’s not actually all that good at it.”
Which was a little hard to believe when a guy could push
words into your head.
Lauren sighed.
“He’s not that strong a mind witch.
Lizard and I are a lot stronger.
So’s Aervyn.”
Josh watched the cute kid pushing his fire truck around the
floor.
Then he realized that
neither the kid nor the fire truck were actually touching the ground.
“Yeah.”
Lauren was
watching him closely.
“There are
several other kinds of power, and Aervyn has almost all of them.
Jamie too.”
He didn’t even bother to ask his next question.
He assumed she’d hear it.
She grinned wryly.
“Lizard’s just a mind witch.
As am I.”
That was oddly comforting, all things considered.
He contemplated the bubbles in his
beer, trying to reconnect with reality.
She patted his shoulder.
“I’ll go cop to spilling more of the beans, and after dinner, maybe we
can give you the witch version of a talent show.”
Her eyes held almost a dare.
“In the meantime, Lizard’s about ready to marry your uncle.”
That figured.
Fingers of frustration clenched in Josh’s gut.
One day, she was going to have to give him the same chance
she gave cute kids and old men.
And if it didn’t happen fairly soon, he was probably going to do
something really stupid.
Or with his luck, some witch would.
Whatever magic tricks they had probably paled in comparison
to their meddling talents.
However, he did have an ace up his sleeve.
When he felt like it, Uncle Charlie
could be a force to be reckoned with.
Time to go find out whose team he was on.
He looked up to discover Lauren still watching him.
“If my opinion counts for anything, I
thought your chances were non-existent when you first showed up.
I think they’re a lot better now.”
“You taking bets on the side?”
She grinned.
“Not
me, but someone likely is.
The
odds are probably skewed, though—too many people like you.”
He wasn’t sure yet if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Any way to convince them to bet
quietly and quit trying to throw the game?”
She had a great poker face.
“Let me introduce you to my best friend, Nat.
She was the subject of the last really
big betting pool around here.”
He’d met Nat.
The
pregnant and clearly very happy Nat.
“Did she win or lose?”
Lauren slung her arm through his elbow, laughing.
“See, that’s why everyone likes you.”
Which didn’t answer his question at all—it just created a
whole pile of new ones.
He steered
Lauren in the direction of the kitchen.
If he had to deal with levitating and other assorted magic tricks,
Lizard, and Uncle Charlie, all in the same night, he deserved another plate of
food nirvana first.
A really big plate.
Jennie sat in the corner beside Vero, watching the quiet and
not-so-quiet drama unfold.
The
players were lining up in some interesting ways tonight.
“Melvin’s adopted Elsie for the
evening, I see.”
“She needs a father figure.”
Vero smiled and rolled spaghetti on her fork.
“And he understands loneliness in a way
that you and I never could.”
Jennie blinked.
“I
would have thought you and I were on pretty much opposite ends of the spectrum
there.”
Vero lived for a crowd.
Jennie generally hid from them.
Vero’s laugh was always contagious, even when she tried to tuck
herself into a quiet corner.
“Indeed.
But I’m never
lonely because there is always an audience, even if only in my mind.
And you’re never lonely because you
seek to be alone—it nourishes you.”
All true—and still a piece missing.
“And Elsie?”
“When a flower first opens, it creates new spaces.
And until sunlight and summer breezes
filter in, there is emptiness.”
Vero smiled, eyes on the couch.
“Elsie’s blooming.
My
Melvin is telling her the sun is coming, and to rest easy with the new spaces.”
Vero wasn’t a mindreader.
Jennie raised an eyebrow curiously.
“And you know this because?”
“He came to tell
her
.”
Vero winked and rose off her chair.
“I came to tell
you
.”
Jennie watched her walk off, pretty sure the aura of mystery was
intentional.
That, too, was a
message.
WitchLight was big on
people figuring things out for themselves.
And twenty-five years later, it could still be annoying.
Nat slid into the chair Vero had just vacated.
Jennie raised an eyebrow.
“Have you come to deliver other cryptic messages?”
“Nope.
I’m just
hungry.”
Nat laughed, diving into
her plate of spaghetti.
“And
unlike my husband, I can’t levitate my plate, so it helps to have a place to
sit.”
She grinned and waved a
fork.
“Eat up—apparently we
might be having a magic show after dinner.”
At Witch Central, that could mean all kinds of things.
“A careful one, I hope?
Charlie doesn’t know he eats with
witches.”
And so far everyone had
been on good-enough behavior that he might not find out before the night was
over.