The Spell of Three

by Casey Morgan

  “We might be related,” added Shanna.

  She turned to me.

  “This is Ryan. He, Brody, and I own the bed and breakfast.”

  “Related? Really?” asked Ryan.

  He looked me over again.

  “That’s a bit of fascinating coincidence,” he said. “I can see the resemblance, though. You two are like peas in a pod.”

  “Can you show her to her room, love?” asked Shanna. “I’ve got to talk to our towel supplier.”

  “Are we out again?”

  “No, but close enough.”

  “Come along, Mila,” said Ryan. “I’m sure I’ve got your key here somewhere.”

  Ryan escorted me upstairs. As he walked away from Shanna, I was sure he gave her a pat on the rump.

  I thought I had misheard, but she did say “guys” and that she was married. I looked back. There were two wedding bands on her finger. How odd!

  Upstairs, the Irish elf fumbled with his ring of keys for a moment. He tried a few that were wrong, and I grew a bit inpatient. I wanted to throw out a magic spell to open the door and let me in, but I didn’t want to be rude when he was clearly trying to do it himself.

  Then finally he found the right one and unlocked the door. I went in and set my bags down. He took the key off his ring and handed it to me.

  “Here ya go now, don’t lose it,” he said. I supposed he didn’t know that I didn’t really need it. “Breakfast goes from 7 until 10 am. It’s a good bit of food. Very hearty. I hope yer not a vegan or nuthin’ like that.”

  “No. Thanks,” I said. “But before you go, if you don’t mind. Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you and Brody both married to Shanna?”

  I had told myself to shut my mouth and mind my own business, but I couldn’t help it. I was too curious, and I had never been known for holding my tongue.

  “Aye, ‘tis true, we are,” he said.

  He seemed nonchalant about it, as if it was nothing unordinary. I began to feel dumb for not knowing this tidbit about local culture.

  “Oh, please pardon my ignorance. We don’t have that kind of thing in America,” I said.

  “Actually, we don’t have it in Ireland either,” admitted Ryan. “We just did it, is all.”

  He shrugged.

  Wow. I had to admit, I admired his honesty.

  “Have a nice stay, Mila,” he told me.

  “Thanks.”

  Ryan left the room and I got myself settled in. The whole place was like living inside an antique. All the furniture and fixtures were old and quaint and kept spotless.

  There was even an old-style tub on four legs in the bathroom. The four-poster bed was extremely comfortable.

  I kicked off my shoes and stretched out for a few minutes. I zonked out for a good 20 second power nap. Normally, I wasn’t big on those, but the travel had made me tired. A quick nap refreshed me. I decided to grab a quick shower and get changed for dinner.

  While I was in the shower, I thought about the idea of having two boyfriends or two husbands. It just seemed crazy to me. How would you keep the guys from not getting jealous of each other?

  I supposed that since Ryan and Brody were brothers, they were used to sharing things? Strange that they would decide to share a woman, though. Shanna must be very special.

  Still, the thought of holding together a relationship like that sounded exhausting. I could barely manage to take care of my fish and I had to give them to a neighbor just to be able to make this trip.

  Two guys at once?

  That was a lot to take care of.

  Of course, maybe I was looking at it the wrong way. What was a relationship if not a partnership, right?

  That was the way my parents were. They were the loves of each other’s lives. Mom was devastated when dad passed away from cancer. Looking for her family was the only thing that got her through the depression.

  I mean, if you were really into someone, even if it was two someones, you tried to help each other out, right? And if you had two people helping you, that had to be better than one, right?

  I was in the shower washing myself when I thought, What about the sex?!

  I blushed.

  Here I was in the shower, thinking about it and blushing. I mean, the sexual positions with two guys were pretty endless.

  Wow.

  Shanna must… She must be pretty open minded.

  Then again, it might be really nice to be spooned and spoon at the same time. Those two elves she’s married to are certainly easy on the eyes.

  Part of me imagined doing some dating I while I was here. Once I found my grandparents and we were reunited, I could ask out a local boy. The Irish accent was just too much of a turn on for me to pass up this opportunity.

  I smiled to myself. Then I realized it was the first natural smile I had smiled in weeks. Coming here seemed as if it had been the right thing to do. After all, it was bringing me out of my depression and that was good, even if my relatives turned out to be jerks.

  Maybe I would find a nice Irish witch or elf to date. I was ready for one guy, one relationship. Something that wasn’t a total disaster.

  My previous boyfriends were just a string of weirdos when I looked back at them. There was Mike, the neat freak and germophobe werewolf, who was constantly worried about catching something from someone or something.

  Then there was Eric, the corporate witch. He had lots of money, but he was just using me for sex.

  I felt more like one of his employees than his girlfriend. He was always “scheduling sex”, which started out as a lame, half-joke, but I soon began to realize that it was what he actually did.

  Gary, the jock, another Were, was pretty fun. A bit of a musclehead, but always a good time.

  The only problem with him was that he was incredibly stupid. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t any rocket scientist. I barely watched the news myself anymore, but Gary? He once insisted that New Mexico was not part of the United States. Can you believe that?

  I mean, jeez, when you’re an American and you don’t even know the fifty states? Come on.

  All those relationships had been disasters. We would break up and I would go crying to my mother. She would dry my tears and tell me that my perfect guy was coming, and that I just had to be patient.

  She always insisted that when I met him, I would know. I would feel the zing, she used to always say.

  The zing was some sort of magic that had happened between my parents when they first met. My father had been shy. He was a military brat, who moved around a lot with his father, who made spells for the military.

  My dad had just entered Mom’s high school right before the winter dance. When Mom saw him sitting alone on the bleachers, she bravely walked over and asked Dad to dance.

  He smiled, took her hand and they both felt the zing right away. Or so goes the story they always used to tell me. At that point, they knew right away that they were meant to be together.

  Now they were both gone.

  I turned off the shower and grabbed a towel. I wasn’t going to let the depression take over again.

  I was in Luck’s Hollow.

  Magic happened here.

  If Shanna could marry two elves and I could find my family, then maybe I would feel the zing with a nice Irish chap and spend the rest of my days as happy and in love as Mom and Dad were.

  Maybe that was just what I was telling myself to try to have the best trip possible and focus on something other than my grief and loneliness. But at least it beat sitting at home in the State, moping around and being sad.

  I was determined to have a good time here in Luck’s Hollow. And things were already off to a great start now that I was at Hennessy House.

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