by Raven Snow
“I’ll be there in a minute.” Rose blurted before hanging up. She didn’t move immediately after ending the call. She stood there frozen, her gaze distant. Whatever had just happened, it was still taking time for her to process.
“What’s wrong?” Rowen asked again, standing as well. She touched her cousin’s arm, gently. “Who was that on the phone?”
“A… a police detective who works with Ben… He… he got shot,” said Rose. She frowned, shaking her head like the words all made sense on their own but not together.
“Oh no,” said Emily, pushing off of the desk to stand up straight.
“Ben,” the mayor repeated. “Not the same Ben who’s Chief of Police, is it?”
“I’ve got to go,” Rose blurted. Saying his name out loud seemed to have snapped her from her daze. She hurried toward the door.
“Ben is her husband,” Rowen said in way of explanation, snatching her recorder and purse up before running after Rose. She barely made it to the car before her cousin had a chance to leave without her. “Let me drive,” she said, catching Rose by the arm. “You’re in no condition to.”
Rose didn’t argue. She pressed the keys into Rowen’s outstretched hand and ran around to the passenger’s side. By the time Rowen got in, Rose was sitting there sobbing.
“It’s all right,” said Rowen, even though she had no way of knowing that just yet. “It’ll all be all right.”
Chapter Three
Things were not entirely all right. It would be fair, in fact, to say that things were rather far from all right. That said, it could still be much worse. At the very least, it seemed that the injury Ben had sustained was not life threatening. Granted, it had taken them long enough to come out and tell everyone as much. Rose had been absolutely inconsolable until then. She’d sat in a corner by herself, head in her hands.
The rest of the family had come, of course. Not that Rose would allow anyone to console her. Even her own mother had been rebuffed. Aunt Lydia tried to sit down next to her daughter, but Rose had just waved her away. She needed her space. That was understandable.
Aunt Lydia busied herself, instead, with a healing spell. This caused something of a scene with the rest of the waiting room glancing over and whispering among themselves. With her wild grey hair and her patched-up, handmade skirt, she looked either very witchy or very homeless. Neither was a good look paired with her actions. Rowen was at least able to stop Lydia before she could light a candle. “You can’t do that here,” she’d hissed, snatching away the lighter as soon as she noticed it flicker to life. She wasn’t sure if she was more troubled by the fact that Lydia thought she could get by with candle magic in a hospital or that she carried an assortment of candles on her person at all times.
The doctor finally came out with news on Ben. He didn’t go to Rose first, though. He went to a couple of plain clothes detectives instead. At least, Rowen found out that was what they were later, after Rowen had inserted herself into the conversation. The doctor seemed surprised by Rose’s presence, but he filled her in on the situation and let her go on back. The detectives tried to follow, but she wasn’t having any of that.
Lydia tried to follow the doctor and her daughter. The rest of the family hurried to stop her, a job that really did require their combined effort. In the chaos, Rowen made her way to the detectives. “You two work with Ben, right? What happened?”
Both men were white and middle-aged. They were wearing white button-up shirts and matching frowns that said they didn’t trust Rowen. “That’s really not information we can share,” said one of the detectives, scratching idly at his five o’clock shadow.
“I’m family,” said Rowen, even though she was fairly certain they knew that fact. They had no doubt seen her sitting in the far corner of the waiting room with the rest of the Greensmith family. They were pretty hard to miss.
“Even so,” said the man with the stubble.
“Even so, you should have told Rose what happened, at the very least.” Rowen was losing her temper now. She hadn’t been planning on pointing out how rude they had been, but she felt obligated to now. “You saw her sitting over there distraught, didn’t you? You should have gone over there and said something to her. Even if you couldn’t tell her what happened, you should have at least said something. I mean, she’s his wife. How happy do you think Ben is going to be that you made his wife sit there and worry herself sick, huh?”
The detectives exchanged looks. “We didn’t know what to say,” the clean-shaven one said, lamely.
Rowen wasn’t going to argue. This was no time for unnecessary conflict. “We’re family,” she reminded them both. “We deserve to know what’s going on. Tell me what happened.”
The detectives looked at one another again. One shrugged. They had no reason not to tell her. It only made sense that they come out with it rather than risk Ben being mad when he learned how they’d acted. “It was an accident,” said the clean-shaven detective.
“Complete freak accident,” echoed the other detective.
“What does that mean?” asked Rowen. “Did someone accidentally discharge their weapon at work or something?”
“No,” the detective with the five o’clock shadow said quickly. “Of course not. Gun safety is very important to us. No, this was minor. A landowner called and said a couple of guys were hunting on his land without permission. Ben and I were in the area, so we swung by. We announced we were coming up to talk to the hunters when we got there. They stopped what they were doing— or, at least, we thought they did. They said we were fine to approach, but I guess one of their hunting buddies didn’t hear. They saw movement, shot at it, and got Ben in the leg. He’s lucky it missed an artery.”
Rowen wasn’t sure she would call this luck. No, if anything, this was some of that bad luck that men who married into the Greensmith family tended to face. She wasn’t going to say as much out loud. Rowen kept her worrying to herself and returned to her family. Lydia had, reluctantly, stopped trying to force her way back to see her daughter and son-in-law. She was back to work on her spell, murmuring to herself as she tied knots in a bit of yarn. The yarn had presumably come from the same pocket she kept candles in.
Willow and Peony sat back to back on a long, padded bench. The sisters played around on their phones while they waited. Margo did the same, sitting up straight in her chair, legs crossed. She was wearing a tank top and tennis skirt. She had been out playing tennis at the local country club. She didn’t have a membership, but her current boyfriend did. Though not rich and famous herself, Margo was determined to fake it until she made it. At least she was willing to put fame and fortune on hold for family. All it had taken to get her down to the hospital was a single text.
Aunt Nadine had come as well. She looked a little more sane than Lydia, wearing a blouse and pair of jeans on her skinny frame. She sat watching her sister, chewing on the inside of her cheek like she wanted to help but was too embarrassed to attempt spell-craft in public. She had no doubt left Uncle Norm in charge of Odds & Ends. Either that or Tiffany was running things. Rowen rather doubted that. She was pretty sure her aunts knew better than to trust their sister with anything. Norm might be a bit of a con man, but that at least meant that he had a head for business. He wasn’t likely to have the shop burn down around him while left to his own devices. Tiffany might. That did make Rowen wonder, though. Where was her mother?
It was true that the woman had skipped town on more than one occasion. She was notoriously difficult to reach. Rowen shouldn’t have been surprised, but she still found herself annoyed. What was so hard about buying a cell phone these days? If she insisted on being part of the family, she could at least make herself even the slightest bit accessible. She was always conveniently missing stuff like this.
***
Rose eventually came out to speak with the rest of the family. It had been about an hour, though she looked like she had been back there for days. “Hey,” she said when everyone crowded around her. “T
hey say he’ll be fine.” She rubbed at her red-rimmed eyes. “Or… sort of fine, at any rate. It’s hard to say yet whether or not the bullet did any damage to his leg.”
Plans were made. Rose was staying at the hospital until Ben was released. Everyone offered to stay with her, but she turned them all down. (She had to turn her mother down five times.) “It’s fine, seriously. Just go home, guys. Rowen, if you could make sure everything is fine on the blog, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Of course.” Rowen gave her cousin a hug and urged her to call her if she needed anything before leaving.
The Chinese food Eric had bought had grown cold. They ate in relative silence, sitting on the couch watching television, their old dog Chester at their feet. Rowen got her laptop after they were finished eating. She curled up at one corner of the sofa with it, clicking to check on the blog. She wondered if she should add a news story about what had happened with Ben. No doubt Channel 2 would be running a story on it soon—assuming they hadn’t already.
Rowen decided that was probably a bad idea. She should have a word with Rose before she did anything like that. Right now, calling her to ask seemed inappropriate. Better to just let her be with her husband. No point in worrying her about anything else.
“You okay?” asked Eric, looking at his wife from the other end of the sofa. “It looks like something is on your mind.”
“Of course something is. Ben got shot. How could there not be something on my mind?”
“You’re right, stupid question.” Still, Eric frowned at her like he was trying to puzzle something out. “It looks like it’s more than that though.”
“I was debating over whether or not to add the story to the blog.” Rowen looked back to the computer, only realizing those words were a lie after they had left her mouth. She had already made her mind up about the blog. There was something else that was worrying her. “Ben got shot.”
“You already mentioned that.”
“No… I mean… It’s hard to explain.” Rowen closed her laptop. It wasn’t hard to explain. She just didn’t want to. “I’m sure we’ve talked about it before. My family and I have horrible luck with men.”
Eric nodded, leaning one elbow on the back of the sofa as he turned his body to face her. “I remember,” he said. “But I haven’t seen any evidence of it, and we’ve been married for a while now.”
Rowen nodded. “Well that’s just it. It doesn’t happen for a while.” She thought back to Rose. She hadn’t been married to Ben for very long at all. “Or maybe it can just happen whenever. I don’t know. I don’t know the rules.”
“Anything can happen to anyone whenever,” Eric pointed out. “That’s just the way life is.”
“Oh, come on. You’ve been with me and my family long enough to know these things don’t just happen by coincidence.”
Eric shrugged. “Your aunts don’t seem too worried about it. They got married.”
“Remarried,” Rowen corrected. “Well, in Nadine’s case anyway. Her husband died in a freak accident. A tree fell on him out of nowhere.”
“You’ve mentioned that… They still got married, though. They must not be too afraid.”
“I’m not sure why not.” Rowen hadn’t thought to ask them. It wasn’t a subject she liked to think about period. Clearly, pushing it to the back of her mind wasn’t doing it any good either.
“You’re regretting getting married to me,” said Eric. It wasn’t a question.
“Only because I love you so much.” Rowen gave her husband a stern look. She wouldn’t have him doubting that.
“I thought this family curse of yours didn’t apply to me seeing as I’m technically a Stonewall and all.”
Rowen had considered that. What he said was true. He did indeed have the blood of a witching family in his veins. He didn’t have a lot in the way of otherworldly powers, but magic was undeniably part of his heritage. “We can’t know that,” said Rowen with a sigh. “I mean, I would have said that the curse didn’t apply to Rose either. She’s as much a Greensmith as any of us, but she’s still adopted. If the curse is hereditary, it shouldn’t affect her. Seeing what happened today, well, it kind of looks like there aren’t any exceptions to the rules, doesn’t it?”
“I’m not sure there are rules,” said Eric with a sigh. “Maybe I just haven’t been part of this family long enough to notice the trend, but I’m not worried.”
“You should be!” Rowen snapped without meaning to. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice a bit. “You should, at the very least, be wary.”
“Fine. I’ll be careful,” Eric promised without explaining exactly what “being careful” would entail. “But I still don’t regret marrying you. And I doubt Ben regrets marrying into the family, even lying in that hospital bed like he is. If I had everything to do over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“You’re just saying that because you haven’t been seriously hurt yet… or worse.”
“Is this your way of asking for a divorce?” Eric arched an eyebrow at her. He wasn’t being serious, but he wasn’t completely making light of her concern either. “Come here.” He scooted closer to her on the sofa and pulled her into a hug. “I love you. Whatever I’m risking by being with you, it’s worth it.”
Rowen wasn’t so sure about that. She hugged her husband back anyway. As nervous as she was, she really couldn’t imagine enjoying any sort of life without him.
Chapter Four
The whole family was in the hospital cafeteria. They took up several tables, all pushed together in a corner. They’d probably all be up in Ben’s room if staff would allow it. Not that Ben would allow it either. He didn’t want any visitors aside from Rose and his own mother. Rowen didn’t blame him. She wouldn’t want her family taking turns hovering around her at a time like this either.
Lydia desperately wanted to go have a word with him, but Rose managed to talk her down. “He’s having surgery today to remove some of the shrapnel,” Rose explained, idly picking apart one of the chicken tenders on her plate. “They’re confident they’ll be able to get it all in one go.”
“Will this hurt his career, though?” asked Lydia, her eyes huge. She had a tendency to jump to the worst possible conclusion.
Rose shook her head. “No. He’s the chief of police. Even if this did limit his mobility, he doesn’t have to be out in the field.” Rose looked down at her plate. “Of course, we’re hoping this doesn’t have any lasting effects. It’s too soon to say for sure, though.” She swallowed. This was troubling her.
“We’re just all so happy he’s all right,” said Nadine, putting on a smile. Everyone echoed that sentiment.
This coaxed a smile from Rose. “Thanks.” She looked to Rowen. “I’ll probably head to the Inquirer while he’s in surgery today.”
“Are you sure?” asked Rowen.
“You don’t have to,” said Margo. “We can manage without you for a few days.” It really meant something if even Margo was offering to pull Rose’s weight for a while. She hated being cooped up in the office. She mostly worked in public relations for the paper.
“It’s fine,” said Rose. “I don’t think I could stand to sit around here and just wait. It’s supposed to take several hours anyway. I’ll be back in plenty of time, and they… they have my number in case anything goes wrong. Which isn’t likely! It’s… it’s just in case.”
“I had a friend who got shot once,” said Reginald, Lydia’s husband. “Well, he shot himself. By accident, mind you. It was in the foot, so I imagine it’s not exactly the same. Anyway, my point is that he recovered. Darn near took his foot off, too. Do you remember that, Philip?”
Nadine’s husband, Philip, was also picking apart a chicken tender. He was peeling off the stringy bits, frowning at it like it was completely inedible. “Hmm?” He looked up, having a delayed reaction to hearing his own name. After a couple of seconds, he seemed to piece together the words he’d only been half listening to. “Oh, right. I think he lost
his toes. I’m not sure if they made a prosthesis for that or not. Either way, you wouldn’t know it if you met him. He gets along just fine.”
“Ben got shot in the leg,” Rose reminded them, face impassive like that hadn’t helped one bit.
Reginald nodded. “Right, well, medicine has come a long way.”
It was nice that Reginald was trying to be helpful, but it wasn’t working. Regardless, Rowen rather liked Reginald. He and his brother, Philip, were both very learned occultists. That meant they weren’t uncomfortable around the Greensmiths. If anything, they found them all the more intriguing for their witchy ways. They had warmed up to Lydia and Nadine immediately and were married not long after. Rowen had been uncertain about the relationship at the time, but she found she rather liked these odd little men. She hoped the Greensmiths’ legendary bad luck with men didn’t get them. She wondered if her aunts worried about that. Surely they had put their respective husbands under a whole host of protection spells. Rowen knew that she had done the same shortly before marrying Eric.
“Someone should have left a note for me!” A loud and familiar voice carried from halfway across the cafeteria. Tiffany was hurrying over in a pair of ripped jeans and lemon-yellow flip-flops. She clung tightly to the strap of her drawstring backpack as she hurried over to her family. “I didn’t hear about what happened until I got to the shop. Norm had to tell me!”
Rowen made a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “How is anyone supposed to leave you a note? There’s never any telling where you’re going to be next. Would it kill you to get a cell phone?”
Tiffany looked at her daughter, mouth slightly agape. “You know how I feel about cell phones.”
“Then don’t complain if you don’t hear about emergencies as soon as everyone else,” Rowen grumbled back, mostly under her breath. The way Tiffany’s eyes narrowed, it looked like she had heard her.