A Breath of Magic

by Tracy Madison

  “This is ludicrous. You all realize that, right?” I said evenly. “I don’t need an intervention because I’m engaged.”

  “This won’t work unless you’re open to the process.” Verda sighed, her eyes bright with emotion. “We’re family, and we care about you. All we ask is that you give this a shot. Okay?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Elizabeth waved her hands in the air. Grandma Verda tossed the rattle to her. “Listen,” she said. “We’ve all noticed some changes in you, and we’re concerned. I think you’re more upset about not receiving the magic than anything else. What do you think?”

  I shook my head, not wanting to respond. I was related to these women by blood, which meant I deserved the gift just as much as Elizabeth and Alice. They had their magic, but where was mine? “I already answered that.”

  “Right. You did, but I don’t believe you.”

  I gritted my teeth so I wouldn’t argue.

  Verda retrieved the rattle. “Try to be open to this,” she reminded me. “We can’t help unless you tell us how you really feel!”

  Elizabeth snatched the toy back. “It would bother me,” she admitted. “I would care very much if the people closest to me had something I should have but didn’t. I would feel left out. Alone. And maybe I’d stop believing in the things I used to. Is that’s what’s going on, Chloe?”

  The walls closed in. I pushed out a shallow breath, trying to alleviate the suffocating pressure. It didn’t work. What she said had hit a nerve. I had a choice here: tell them this part of the truth, like they thought they wanted, and open the wound that had only begun to close, or continue the charade.

  “Nothing is going on,” I said, choosing the charade.

  “Why won’t you talk to us?” Liz inhaled a breath, and a tiny grin appeared. “Besides, I think your magic has started.”

  Okay, this was not a development I’d expected. “What do you mean?” I asked, barely daring to hope.

  “The cake, Chloe. I was somehow…compelled…to do what you wanted, to cast that wish. And I’m telling you now, I had no intention of agreeing.”

  I thought back to that moment in the bakery, to everything that had occurred. Maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to believe Elizabeth if the family ghost, Miranda, the source of the Gypsy magic, had visited me even once. But she hadn’t, and from what I knew, that only meant one thing. I shook my head. “No. Nothing happened that was magical. But thanks for trying. Really.”

  Alice reached over and grasped the rattle. “If it’s not the magic, then what? Why do you think you’ve changed?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shot back, still going with the charade. “Changed how?”

  “You refused to look at the picture.” Leaning forward, she centered her brown-eyed gaze on me. “The old Chloe, the one who tackled life instead of being resigned to it, would have leaped at that drawing. But you didn’t. And that’s when I got scared. That’s when I realized something was very wrong.”

  She was right. The old Chloe would have jumped for joy. But I wasn’t that Chloe now, and thinking about that drawing, and about whatever future of mine that magic had shown Alice, would ruin everything. I shrugged, as if I couldn’t care less. “People change. That’s life.”

  “Bull. Not like this. You’re a completely different person.”

  So are you, I thought. Saying that, though, would just hurt her. “What do you want from me?”

  “I want the truth. Whatever it is, Chloe, just lay it on me.”

  I noticed that Verda and Elizabeth had scooted their chairs back slightly, to give me and Alice an impression of privacy. Nice of them, but totally unnecessary. Because I didn’t plan on telling Alice the truth. Not now, not ever. So what if I felt left out? So what if I felt forgotten in the happiness of her new life? If she knew, not only would she be hurt, but it might damage our friendship even more.

  She continued to stare at me, waiting for my answer. Begging me to answer. Reaching deep, I found the anger from earlier. Anger was better than tears. Anger shielded me from everything else.

  I grabbed the rattle from Alice’s grasp and shook it. “I’m done here! This is dumb, and all you really want is for me to break things off with Kyle. But that’s not going to happen, so this intervention is over!”

  Everyone was silent. Alice shook her head in either disappointment or sadness; I wasn’t sure which. Verda began clearing up the room. After a few more minutes, Elizabeth joined her. But Alice stayed in her chair and just looked at me.

  I grinned, trying to ease the tension between us. “I’m sorry. I know you all meant well, but come on…This was a little much.”

  “You’re right that it was drastic, but we felt—hoped—that drastic would get your attention and you’d open up to us. To me.”

  “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m fine. Really I am. I just wish you could be happy for me.” Squeezing my thumb and forefinger together, I said, “Just a little bit? Can you do that for me?”

  Indecision colored her features, and I thought she was going to say no. But then a glint appeared in her eyes and she smiled. “I can be, yes, if you’ll do one thing for me. Just one.”

  Immediately suspicious—because, come on, with the night I’d had, why wouldn’t I be?—I said, “What’s the one thing?”

  Before answering, she called out to Verda. “Hey, Grandma? Do you mind if Chloe uses your car tonight? Elizabeth can take us home.”

  “I can?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Yes, you can.” Alice’s tone was firm.

  My curiosity and my suspicion climbed.

  “Um, yeah, whatever,” Elizabeth said.

  “That’s fine, dear,” Verda agreed. “I trust Chloe with Greta.”

  Greta? Cute. She’d named her car. I thought only men did that. “What’s the one thing, and why do I need Verda’s car to do it?”

  With a smile very reminiscent of Verda’s canary-swallowing version, Alice said, “I want you to stay here, in this room, for an hour after we leave. You’ll need the car to get home, but we’ll come by for it later.”

  “That’s it? Truly?”

  “That’s it. Consider it a little ‘me time.’”

  While I figured there was more to her request, and honestly, I’d had plenty of time alone over the last few months, I couldn’t say no. I desperately wanted my best friend at my wedding. And really, what could an hour do? “Okay. You have a deal.”

  Pleased, Alice stood and gave me a tight hug. “I’m going to help them carry everything out to the car, and then I’ll be back.”

  “I thought it was supposed to be alone time?”

  “It is. I’ll only be here for a few minutes.” Another quick hug. “Be right back.”

  I washed my face while I waited, using the activity to keep my emotions in check—something I’d gotten pretty good at lately. Then I paced the room, not wanting to sit down, but unable to stand still. For the first time, I wondered why they’d brought me here, to this hotel, for their intervention. There were plenty of hotels closer to my home.

  Before I could give it any further thought, Alice barged in. She tossed Verda’s car keys on the bed. “You remember where we parked?”

  “Yep. Just down the street a little.”

  “The hour doesn’t start until I leave,” she pushed.

  “Then maybe you should leave?” I stifled a yawn. “I’m sorry, I’m just really tired.”

  “It’s okay.” She walked to the other side of the room and took a seat on the wide windowsill. “Come here, there’s something I want to show you.”

  “I’m not looking at that drawing, Alice!”

  She showed me her empty hands. “I don’t have it with me. Come here. Please.”

  Hesitantly, I crossed the room and sat next to her on the sill. “What?”

  Turning her head, she looked out the window. “It’s still dark out, but do you see that building across the street? The one with all the black glass?”<
br />
  I played along and glanced out the window. “Yeah. It’s sort of big, and there are streetlights, and I’m not blind. Kind of hard to miss a building, Alice. So what’s this all about?”

  “In that building is an architectural firm called Malone & Associates. Have you ever heard of them?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I lied to you last year,” she said, changing the subject. “Remember when you asked me to use my magic to draw a picture of your wedding day, and I told you that nothing happened?”

  My throat tightened. “So…it did work? You drew my wedding day, and you’ve had that drawing for this long?” Somehow I’d thought the drawing was a recent thing, something done at the last minute to try to change my decision. The knowledge that she’d had it for nearly a year spun around in my head, clogging everything up. A shiver rolled down my spine, and a hairline crack appeared in the wall I’d built around myself. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “To protect that day. To protect your future.”

  Okay. Whatever. It didn’t matter. This altered nothing. “So why are you telling me now?”

  She nodded toward the building. “Shortly after I drew your wedding day, I was having tea at a café up the road. And the man from your drawing—your groom—strolled in to buy a cup of coffee.” Her eyes gripped mine. “I followed him, Chloe. And he walked to that building, to Malone & Associates, swiped a card to unlock the door and let himself in. Which means he probably works there.”

  I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. The hairline crack widened, and the wall began to crumble. “No. I don’t want to know this. Not now.”

  Alice stood and pointed out the window. “Don’t you get it, sweetie? Your happily-ever-after is literally across the street. Not lying in your bed, sleeping. Across the freaking street.” With that, she turned on her heel and left the room.

  I sat there for longer than my promised hour of “me time,” long enough to see the early sun of the morning. I didn’t once remove my gaze from that building. My body trembled at the very thought, I wanted to grab on to this new future so badly. But actually taking the steps toward that future, the one I couldn’t see, petrified me beyond reason. Kyle was safe. Comfortable. And I could visualize my future with him.

  Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and turned away from the window. Then and only then did I open them. Numb, cold and exhausted, I retrieved the car keys. Then I left and drove home to where Kyle waited.

  Chapter Three

  In the week that followed, I did everything possible to stay on course. I kept busy at the store, cleaned my apartment, went to the gym every day, read three books and watched four movies. Also, unbeknownst to Alice, I drove by Malone & Associates a total of seven times over four different days. Basically, I was a well-read, physically tired, emotionally drained mess.

  I was also still engaged, but now, my prior positive feelings weren’t quite so positive. Kyle hadn’t mentioned our upcoming nuptials once in the entire week. It bugged me. A lot. I’d fought hard for our future, and I’d have appreciated a sign that he was at least interested. Hell, that he even remembered.

  So today, when Kyle asked me to go with him to buy luggage for an upcoming business trip, because the airline had permanently lost his last suitcase, I didn’t believe him. I thought he wanted to buy a ring.

  When we arrived at the mall, we headed directly to the luggage store. He hemmed and hawed over whether to buy a larger suitcase or one that he could carry on. His uncharacteristic indecisiveness struck me as nervousness, which was kind of sweet. But his dithering went on for so long that I started to get antsy, so I convinced him to buy both sizes.

  As we left the shop, each of us carrying a bag, I said, “You leave on Monday?”

  “Nope. I have to be at the Cincinnati office by eight Monday morning, so I’m flying out tomorrow afternoon.” He nodded toward the food court. “Want to get something to eat before we head out?”

  That did not sound like ring shopping. Or maybe he was being coy? “With the luggage? Nah, let’s go somewhere else, so we don’t have to lug them around with us.”

  We trudged along without trying to hold a conversation. It was a Saturday afternoon, which meant the mall had loads of people crawling everywhere. I saw the jewelry store before we reached it. Would he stop? If nothing else, maybe the sight would bring the subject up.

  I stole a sidelong glance at Kyle, but his gaze remained straight ahead. “There’s nothing else you need?” I asked.

  “Huh? No. I’m set.” Then, as if realizing I might want to shop somewhere, he asked, “Do you need anything?”

  “No. Nothing at all.” And with that, we walked by the jewelry store, with all its glittering diamonds, and didn’t stop until we reached his car.

  Swallowing heavily, I buckled my seat belt and turned my head away from him. I stared out the window at moving pavement for a while before finally deciding that enough was enough. I hadn’t imagined my proposal. And unless Kyle had been afflicted with some type of magical malady, he hadn’t forgotten it, either. Clearing my throat, I said, “I’ve been thinking about when we might want to have the wedding.”

  He grunted a nonreply.

  “I’m partial to spring. Or maybe fall. What do you think?”

  “I haven’t really thought about it yet,” he said, easing on the brake for a red light. “Do we need to decide this second?”

  “Nope, we can talk about it later.” And probably, I should have dropped the subject altogether, until he was more receptive. But I couldn’t get that damn drawing out of my head, so I forged onward. “What about size? Any preference there?”

  He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his sunglasses. Once they were on, he said, “Size of what?”

  “Of the wedding. Small? Large?” I patted his knee. “It’ll help me plan if I know what you want.”

  “Um. Small. I like the idea of small.”

  “Okay, small it is.” Deciding that was enough for now, I went back to staring at the pavement. A small wedding would be good. Perfect, really. My guest list consisted of maybe twelve people. If my sister Sheridan flew in from Seattle, I’d have a baker’s dozen.

  Ha. Chances of that were slim to none. My baby sister and I hadn’t been close for years. A decade or more, really. After our parents died, we’d moved in with my dad’s sister. Sheridan and I were a team then, because Aunt Lu was not the motherly type. We took care of each other. Then I left for college and nothing had ever been the same. I sighed, pushing the thought away. The days of sisterly love were long gone.

  Kyle pulled the car into a parking space at one of our favorite restaurants. He turned the ignition off and cleared his throat. “Chloe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re not in a rush to get married or anything, are we?”

  “I don’t know. I guess not. I’d like to set a date, though.”

  Playing with his sunglasses—one of his trademark signs of anxiety—he frowned. Uh-oh, this reminded me of that long ago day he’d broken things off with me. The day he’d told me about his love for another girl. Is that what this was?

  “What’s wrong, Kyle?” I asked carefully.

  “Nothing, babe. Just thinking. How about I give a date some more consideration when I’m in Cincinnati? And then we can talk about it on Thursday, when I get back?”

  Oh. Wow. Not a breakup. “Yeah, that would rock.”

  “Cool. Let’s go eat.”

  I trailed him into the restaurant, relief suffusing my every step. If Kyle and I weren’t meant to have a future, then fate would have to play her hand and tell me so in no uncertain terms.

  Since the day I opened the Mystic Corner, Mondays were the slowest of the week—so slow, in fact, I’d recently begun toying with the idea of closing the shop on Mondays and increasing to a full day on Saturdays. It made good business sense, and that should have been reason enough to move forward. I kept dragging my heels, though. I liked the hours as they were, and the staff
, as small as it was, was accustomed to having most of their weekend free. As was I. Still, business is business. I’d talk to Paige, my manager—and the only full-time employee—about changing the schedule. Seeing as we currently traded off on working Saturdays, her opinion mattered just as much as mine.

  I returned to the crystal order I’d been placing, picking up where I’d left off. As a spiritual gift store, we carried everything from tarot cards to rocks and minerals to books on a variety of spiritual subjects, and more. While we didn’t stock many big-ticket items, our inventory tended to turn over fast. The slowdown of the economy hadn’t hurt us and, in fact, brought more business our way.

  Well, except on Mondays.

  Most other days we were busy from open to close. Which made perfect sense. People facing tough times naturally seek out ways to improve their situations, and many of them, the open-minded ones, found us. Crystals, with their mystical properties, remained top sellers.

  I double-checked the order on my computer screen, hoping I hadn’t forgotten anything, typed in my account information and clicked send. There. Done. Barely midmorning, and my to-do list for the day was nearly completed. Another reason I enjoyed Mondays.

  My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Without allowing myself to think about it, I opened the browser and began typing in “Malone & Associates.” I got to the first s before common sense took over. What was I doing? Something stupid, that’s what. I stared at the cursor, fighting the urge to continue, because yeah, part of me figured, “What the hell?” The other part, the engaged part, freaked out. Pushing away from my desk, I went to see if Paige needed any help.

  The store was empty, which didn’t surprise me. Paige had set up in one of the back corners, resituating shelves to better showcase the spiritual artwork we’d just been shipped. I stopped behind her, pleased with her progress. “It looks great!”

  Turning, she grinned. Her jet-black hair was slicked back into a short ponytail, and I saw with great humor that she’d matched her purple eye shadow with a purple stud in her left eyebrow. “Yeah, I like it too. I should be able to finish before I take off.”