by D. Lieber
“What happened?” Eeva asked, staring at Cory’s foot.
“Oh, don’t even ask,” Dorian said. “He’ll give you the whole play-by-play. Short version: he got hurt playing hockey.”
“Is it broken?” Sawyer asked.
“It’s only sprained. Don’t let him whine too much about it,” Dorian advised.
“And who is this?” Cassandra asked, tilting her head at the car seat.
“Let’s get inside, and we’ll introduce you,” Cory said.
Once Cory was seated comfortably in an armchair, his foot propped up on the ottoman, Dorian took the blanket off the car seat.
“Everyone,” Dorian said, unbuckling the baby inside, “We’d like you to meet Ella.”
The baby girl couldn’t have been more than six months old. She looked around at them, her eyes big and blue under a mess of strawberry blonde hair.
“Hi, Ella,” Eeva cooed, smiling at the baby. “Aw, look at her cute little frilly dress.”
“I picked it out,” Cory said proudly.
“The adoption went through last month,” Dorian informed. “It has been an adjustment, but we’re finally getting the hang of it.”
“Don’t you worry,” Ria said. “We’ve got the crib all set up for you.”
“Mom, you knew? Why didn’t you say?” Eeva complained.
“Well, they wanted it to be a surprise, and they couldn’t very well not tell me to prepare for a baby in the house.”
“Can I hold her?” Eeva asked.
“Sure,” Dorian said. “After you wash your hands.”
“Okay.” Eeva went and washed her hands then sat on the couch, where Dorian handed her the baby. “Hello, Ella. Pretty girl. I’m so glad you’ve come to visit us. I bet you like being adopted by your daddies. You don’t worry one bit. They’re going to take good care of you.”
Sawyer sat beside her on the couch, looking over at Eeva and Ella gazing at each other. His chest warmed, and he smiled gently.
Muir jumped up on the couch between Eeva and Sawyer, wanting to see what the commotion was about. He looked at Ella, and Ella looked at him. Then he started to meow, loud and insistent.
Eeva chuckled. “Here,” she said to Dorian, holding Ella out to him. “Muir doesn’t seem to like the competition.”
After Ella had been passed back, Eeva picked up Muir and held him like a baby, stroking his chest and belly. “I know. I know. I’m a traitor,” she murmured to the cat.
Muir purred and closed his eyes.
Just as Wes was finishing dinner and the whole house smelled of slow cooked pot roast, the last of the old coven arrived.
Eeva led Hazel into the dining room. She hadn’t changed at all since they’d seen her last. She was still reedy with long, dark hair and flowing garments of varying shades of blue.
“Sorry I’m late,” Hazel apologized. “Charlie was being a handful. How that man is going to survive without me for the next ten days I have no idea.” She glanced around at everyone, her gaze landing on Devan. “What? Even Devan got here before me.”
Everyone chuckled and sat down to eat.
Chapter 27
Later that evening, everyone sat in the common room knitting, quilting, and just catching up. Devan, who lay on the floor near the fire, asked, “When was the last time we were all together like this?”
“Eeva’s dedication,” Piper answered, her memory as sharp as ever.
“That was just before Sawyer went off to college,” Tara said.
“Yeah, the summer before,” Cory agreed. “Because there was that huge storm the night before.”
Everyone fell into a thoughtful silence, one blurry with memories.
Evergreen remembered that night, the most important night thus far on her Pagan path. Cory was right. It had stormed the night before. She recalled that the path beneath her bare feet had still been wet.
Though they had always referred to themselves as a coven, that wasn’t strictly accurate. Unlike an actual coven, there was no lineage, no passing of secret truths. They were just a group of eclectic Pagans who celebrated the sabbats and esbats together. They were a group of like-minded friends who performed magic together more than anything. And so, there was no initiation to be had.
Still, they did have a tradition for dedication, a practice usually reserved for solitary practitioners. The group saw their relationships with deity as unique and individual. So, when Evergreen felt she was old enough to declare that she would continue on this spiritual path, she asked to have a dedication ceremony.
The coven was there only to show support. They were there on the patio in full regalia, ready to send her on her journey. Her father gave her the lantern that would light her way, and her mother took her cloak so she could meet the gods in the same state as she’d been born.
She walked down the soggy dirt path through the woods, mud squelching between her toes. When she reached the clearing, she performed her ritual, swearing to all who would listen that she dedicated herself to the old ways, that she would honor and celebrate the Earth and its seasons, that she would endeavor to live in perfect love and perfect trust.
When she returned to the coven, still waiting on the patio, her cloak was returned, and they all had a big party.
“I’ve got an idea,” Piper said, pulling Evergreen from her memories. “That is, if you guys want to, of course. Why don’t we have a naming ceremony for little Ella?”
Cory and Dorian exchanged looks then Dorian nodded. “That’s a wonderful idea, Piper. But will we have time? I mean, we’re already preparing for Yule.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Ria assured, looking down at the baby in her arms. “We’ve got most of what we need already. And what’s most important is that we’re all together. Isn’t that right, baby Ella?”
“We should all go into town tomorrow,” Cassandra suggested. “Then we can shop for Yule gifts and naming gifts for baby Ella. We can have the naming ceremony the day after.”
Everyone agreed to the prospect with enthusiasm.
As Ria handed Ella to Cory, Evergreen could hear the dreamy smile in her voice when she said, “I can’t wait to be a grandma.”
“You’re hurting Muir’s feelings,” Evergreen chided, putting her free hand over the cat’s ears.
It wasn’t long before Evergreen called it a night. The day had been full, and she wanted to be asleep well before Sawyer crawled into the sleeping bag beside her.
But such was not her luck. She was still staring up at the glass ceiling when he came into the meditation room.
He crept in, trying not to wake her. She could hear him suppressing his breathing.
“I’m awake,” she told him.
“Oh, okay,” he murmured, letting out a sigh. He turned on the dim yellow lamp in the corner.
As a heavy silence choked the room, Evergreen wished she hadn’t said anything.
“Do you…need me to leave so you can change into your pajamas?” she asked softly.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just change in the bathroom when it’s free.”
She watched as he dug through his bag. “You could just change in the corner. I mean, you’re wearing underwear, aren’t you? I won’t peep.”
His eyes slid over to hers. “I’m not shy,” he told her.
“Neither am I,” she stated. “But it would be rude to look without permission.”
His gaze was level and serious, and she could feel him analyzing her response to what he was about to ask. “Is that something…you want? Permission, that is.”
Evergreen imagined Sawyer slowly unbuttoning his jeans. Yes, she thought. “No, that’s not what I meant. I was speaking generally,” she said.
“Because…” Sawyer continued softly. “You can if you want… I wouldn’t mind.”
Evergreen’s heart leapt into her throat. She turned on her side, facing the glass wall. “I didn’t say that,” she murmured. “I was only trying to make things more convenient for you. Take it or leave it. I d
on’t care.” But her voice sounded a little too uneven to be convincing.
“All right,” he conceded. “I will then.”
“Fine. Go ahead.”
The night was dark outside the glass, and the lamp cast reflections. Evergreen watched, her eyes drawn to the movement. And though her vision didn’t permit her to see anything in detail, she saw enough for her mind to wander back to her dream from the night before. A dull ache arose in her core, and she clenched her jaw.
Sawyer turned off the lamp, his now-fully-clothed reflection disappearing into the night. Evergreen sighed, hoping its retreat would make her desire wane. But as Sawyer climbed into his sleeping bag on the floor beside her, she could feel his presence behind her, his solid, warm presence. He didn’t touch her, didn’t even reach for her. But her skin started to tingle as if anticipating his caress.
She adjusted to lay on her back, taking a deep breath and letting it out all at once. This is going to be a rough night, she thought. Acknowledging her desire for Sawyer had done nothing to alleviate the feeling. In fact, if anything, it had made it worse.
Bury it, Evergreen, she told herself. There’s no relief in sight, so just bury it.
“Are you warm enough?” Sawyer asked, his voice soft and way closer than she’d expected. “I can switch places with you if you’d like to be closer to the heater.”
“I’m fine,” she muttered.
She stared up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on the clouds overhead, trying to push her body’s sensations out of her.
“About what your mom said before,” he started. “Does she bug you a lot about having grandchildren? My mom does.”
Evergreen latched onto the conversation, anything to distract herself. “No, not really. I mean, I know she wants to be a grandma, but it’s not like she pressures me or anything.”
“Do you…want to have kids?”
Evergreen sighed, her desire slipping out of her under the weight of the topic. “Sure. But, you know, it’s not that simple for me.”
“Why not?”
“Well, my eye disease is genetic. That means my children would have a greater chance of having it, too. At the very least, they all would be carriers. And can I be an effective parent without being able to see? I mean, I couldn’t even take my kids to school. I couldn’t even drive them to the hospital if they were sick or hurt.”
Evergreen heard Sawyer turn toward her, but she didn’t look over at him.
“Would you have not wanted to be born?” he asked softly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if your parents had known you would be blind, if you could make that decision, would you still want to be born?”
“Of course I would. Even a life with blindness is better than no life. But just because I feel that way doesn’t mean my kids will. And I know better than anyone the struggles they will face.”
“And you will be able to teach them how to face them better than anyone. And let me add that it’s total nonsense that you couldn’t be an effective parent. That’s bullshit. You’ve found ways to adapt to every situation. You’re telling me you couldn’t adapt to motherhood? You’re the strongest, most competent person I know. If you decided to be a mother, I know you’ll be amazing at it, just like you’re amazing at everything else. I mean, you’re so good. You make it look easy, effortless.”
“It’s not though. It’s hard work.”
“I know. And you don’t shy away from that work either. I think society needs more parents like you. You know…not to influence your decision or anything.”
Warmth spread through Evergreen’s chest, and with it, light and contentment and…hope? She didn’t dare look over at Sawyer, afraid of what her expression might say. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“Anytime.” Sawyer paused for a moment. “We’ve known each other a long time, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say. Do you mind if I ask you what your eyesight is like?”
The question she’d been asked so many times put her back in comfortable territory. “I don’t mind, though I’ve had bad vision my whole life so I don’t know how much sense my explanation will make. I don’t have anything to compare it to.”
“That’s fine.”
“I think of my vision like impressionist art. Maybe sighted people see the world like a realist painting, but my vision is a lot of guesswork. For example, if I see a round circle on a wall above a door. It’s white with a dark edge. I assume it’s a clock. I can’t read the numbers or see the hands, but it’s a safe bet it’s a clock. It could not be a clock. It could be a barometric pressure gauge for all I know. I can see someone sitting across the table from me, but I can’t necessarily see his or her facial expressions because facial expressions are often too minute. So I rely on how people sound when they speak, or don’t speak for that matter. And I sort of feel the vibes coming off them if that makes sense. I can do a lot of things by touch, like knitting for instance. Sometimes I run into things as I’m not great at judging distance, or maybe that’s just my excuse for being clumsy. I’m also color deficient, meaning I can’t always tell colors that are close in shade. I might call something green when it’s yellow. It’s easier if I can compare them side by side. Contrast is easier, especially if the background is vastly different from an object. I’m also light sensitive, and lighting can vastly impact what I can see in any given situation. Does that help you understand better?”
“Yeah. Thanks for sharing that with me.”
“No problem.”
Chapter 28
When Sawyer awoke the next morning, Eeva was no longer in her sleeping bag beside him. The thick scent of cinnamon hung in the air, and the candles on the altar were lit, telling him she had already been busy that morning.
Once he’d changed, he went out to see who all was up and about. Eeva was in the common room with Hazel and Cory. Eeva and Hazel cradled mugs in their hands, their feet tucked under them on the couch. They watched Cory talk to Ella as he fed her.
“So, what do you say, Eeva?” Dorian asked, entering the room, a steaming cup in each hand. “You know how it’s done, and Cory isn’t exactly up for it this year.”
“Sure,” Eeva agreed with a nod. “I have no problem. And I know you’ll teach me anything I forgot. We have time to practice, right?”
“Oh, honey, I can’t do it either. Cory is going to have a hard enough time just getting around himself. I have to help him and watch baby Ella.”
“Why not Sawyer?” Hazel suggested. “He did it that one year, didn’t he?”
They all turned their attention to Sawyer, who covered his mouth as he yawned. He hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the night before, too aware of Eeva beside him. “I what now?”
“You know the dance. You could play the oak king. Couldn’t you?” Hazel asked.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it has been a while, but sure.”
“Great,” Dorian said with a smile. “Then Eeva can be our holly king, and Sawyer can be our oak king. Don’t forget to practice, you two.”
Sawyer glanced at Eeva. She did not look as happy at the prospect as she had a few moments before. Maybe I misread her, he thought. Maybe that whole kiss thing was just a fluke. I mean, surely the thought of partnering with me wouldn’t be that upsetting if she felt something for me…anything… Should I back off? I feel like I was pretty up-front last night. Maybe I should just tell her outright instead of leading up to it. Maybe I should just tell her how I feel… But if she isn’t ready to hear it, it may not end the way I want. Timing is everything.
Once everyone else was awake and had breakfasted, Wes announced that he would be staying home while they went shopping.
“I’ve got to make the cakes and ale for the naming ceremony,” he explained.
“What will you be making?” Piper asked.
“I’m thinking about crescent moon cutout cookies and faux mead. You know, since I won’t have time to ferment actual mead.”
“Okay, the kitchen witch will s
tay home to do his brewing,” Morrigan acknowledged.
“I’m staying, too,” Cory said. “I don’t want to tempt falling on the ice. Ella and I can stay here with Wes. It’s too cold to take her out for too long anyway.” He smiled at Dorian, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “You go have fun. We’ll be fine here with Wes.”
Everyone else split into three cars and headed for town. Most of Birchland’s shops were situated near each other in the shopping district, so they just parked along the side of the road and bundled in their winter things to walk.
The first shop they went to was Toil and Trouble, the Pagan supply store and new age shop. In the front window was a set of shelves, which held crystal balls, statues of gods and goddesses, wands, and a carved dragon that clung to the front as if scaling it. The dragon wore a tiny Santa hat. A sign in the window informed that tarot card readings were available by appointment.
The air inside Toil and Trouble was thick with the heady smell of dragon’s blood incense.
The shopkeeper looked up as they all shuffled in. “Ria,” the young woman greeted. “Good to see you. And I see you’ve brought guests.”
Ria smiled. “Yes, this is most of my old coven. They all moved away before you opened the shop. Guys, this is Clover. This shop is her labor of love.”
“It’s lovely,” Hazel complimented.
“Thank you,” Clover said. “Go ahead and take a look around. Let me know if you have any questions.”
Everyone acknowledged and squeezed into the space.
Sawyer was surprised to find that they had quite a few baby things. He decided to get Ella a onesie with a buckler on the front that said “Shield Maiden.”
Sawyer found Eeva’s green head easily across the room. She was bent over a glass case with jewelry in it. He perused the shelves, thinking of all the Yules they’d missed together. Should I get her something again this year? he wondered. But he knew he still had Yule gifts from the past four Yules in his bag in the meditation room. Maybe I should just give her the gifts I’ve been saving. It may be a little weird to give her five gifts after all.