Easy Magic

by Kristen Proby

  “And tonight you feel betrayed.”

  “I should have been prepared,” I reply and push away from the counter to pace the kitchen. “I should have known what was happening so I could help her.”

  “You did help her.”

  “But I couldn’t defend her against the guy trying to kill her.”

  “I didn’t need you to.”

  Both of our heads whip around to the open back door where Mallory stands, watching us with tired eyes, her hands firmly propped on her hips.

  “It was not your fight,” she says.

  “I’m going to head out,” Mama says with a smile. She walks to Mallory and kisses her cheek, then pulls her in for a hug. “I’m so relieved that you’re safe.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mama winks at me as she leaves us alone in the kitchen.

  “I thought you’d sleep for a while.”

  She nods and steps inside, closing the door behind her. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.” She smiles sadly and sits at the breakfast bar.

  “So, you can read my mind now?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “But I can read body language and facial expressions as easily as the next person, and you’re not sorry. And that’s okay. You needed to be alone.”

  “How much did you hear?”

  “Enough.” She looks down at the countertop for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts, and when she looks back up at me, there is so much sadness in her violet eyes it makes me want to scoop her up and tell her that everything will be okay.

  But I don’t know if it’s going to be okay.

  “I scared you today.”

  “That could be the understatement of the year.”

  She nods.

  “I need to tell you some things, but first I want to say this: if you want to part ways as friends after everything that’s happened tonight, and what I’m about to tell you, I completely understand.”

  I’m not fucking parting ways with you.

  I lean back against the countertop and nod. “Okay.”

  “Okay.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out again. “I’d like to explain about what happened tonight. I didn’t understand all of it until it actually happened, and the pieces have just started coming together in the past week or two.

  “The night I did the séance here, I saw a darkness. That’s the only way to explain it. It appeared fast, and it was gone just as fast because I slammed my mind’s door on it. Nothing like that had ever happened before, and I brushed it off as being something here at the inn, like a spirit.

  “Then, the day I went to the cemetery with Miss Sophia and Lena, it returned, but stronger. And Miss Sophia knew what it was because she’d seen it before. It was the man who killed my grandmother all those years ago.

  “He had been released from the mental institution, and was back at abducting and torturing young girls. And he was a powerful psychic, who targeted me because he assumed that because of who my grandmother was, that I would step in and try to help law enforcement find him.”

  “Why didn’t you?” I ask.

  “Because that’s not my gift. I can’t see the living psychically like my grandmother could. That’s how she helped find so many lost children. I can only see the dead. So, after the encounter at the cemetery, Miss Sophia gave me more details about my grandmother’s death, and she was researching how we should move forward with what was happening currently. She had put a protective spell over me, and I’d been bathing in lots of disgusting tea as protection too.”

  “And you didn’t think that I’d want to be in the loop so I could also keep you safe?”

  “I don’t know how you could have done that,” she replies. “You would have worried, but the dude in New York wasn’t a physical threat; he was in my head.”

  I shake my head and pace as she keeps talking.

  “I understand if you don’t want me to be around your family, but I can promise you that I will never put them in danger. I’m not normal, Beau, and I never will be. I’ve discovered that I can do a lot of good as a medium. I’m not saying that I’m going into business and seeking out a television show, but there will be moments when I have to turn my attention to someone you can’t see so I can help them.”

  “That’s not my issue—”

  “Let me finish.” She holds her hand up, and I stop talking, listening instead. “I’m not normal. But I love you so much I ache with it.”

  I want to hurry around this island and take her in my arms to reassure her, but I wait, giving her space to finish.

  “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but I was afraid. It’s stupid,” she says and impatiently brushes a tear off her cheek. “Life’s too precious and short to not say what you mean, so I’m saying it. I didn’t withhold information to spite you, or because I didn’t trust you. I just—” She shrugs, as if she’s trying to find the words. “I just didn’t know what to tell you.”

  “Everything,” I reply and finally cross to her. I tip her chin up so I can look in her eyes. “I want you to tell me everything. Especially if it hurts or scares you. I was so thrown off guard and afraid for you this evening; I thought I was going to lose you.”

  “And if it wasn’t for my family, you might have.”

  The thought turns my stomach. “You are everything to me, Mallory. You’re not abnormal. You can do things that others can’t do.”

  “Do you believe me?” she whispers, making me frown.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know that you’re a no nonsense man, and that you’ve indulged me, especially in the beginning. But Beau, I need you to believe me.”

  “I don’t love you despite your gifts, Mallory. I love you, period. In the end, isn’t that what we all want? Someone to choose us, to love us, no matter the circumstances?”

  She nods, letting the tears fall unchecked down her cheeks.

  “You are a magical, beautiful, amazing woman, Mallory, and I love everything about you. I do trust you.”

  “I’m a handful,” she says with a wet smile, making me smirk.

  “I have two hands,” I reply, finally pulling her in for a hug.

  “And you have me,” she says against my chest. “You’re my home, Beau. After Grandmamma moved on, all I wanted to do was come home to you.”

  “Which leads me to what I wanted to talk to you about earlier this afternoon,” I reply and pull back a bit so I can see her face. “When it’s time for me to move into the new house, I’d like for you to move in with me.”

  Her face lights up. “I love your house.”

  “I’d like for it to be our house.”

  “Oh.” She takes a deep, cleansing breath. “Are you sure?”

  “Never been more sure. You’re my home, too.”

  She swallows and nods. “I’d like that. But do I have to help in the garden?”

  “No, baby, we want to eat the vegetables. Not kill them.”

  ***

  She slept like a baby all night, wrapped around me. I didn’t sleep a wink; instead I held her, enjoying the warmth of her, the smell of her hair, and the sweet way she would drag her hand up and down my side.

  I couldn’t get the image of the look on her face as she stood behind the inn, fighting a force I couldn’t see out of my head. I’m not comfortable with the thought of not being able to protect her from everything.

  I love her.

  But I’m used to handling, well, everything.

  Not that a woman is something to be handled. My mama would have my hide if she heard me say something like that.

  As soon as I see dawn break, I untangle myself from Mallory’s grasp, pull on yesterday’s clothes, and walk out to the cemetery.

  I haven’t been to this spot since my dad passed away. There was never a need.

  But I could sure use his advice now.

  “You died too soon,” I murmur and sit on the bench directly acros
s from his headstone. “Although, any time would have been too soon.”

  It’s quiet today. The sky is clear and full of pink and purple with the rising sun.

  “I don’t know what to do about her.”

  And I’m not even entirely sure what I’m hung up about. I’ve asked her to move in with me for Christ’s sake. It’s not like I want to break it off.

  Absolutely not.

  But I’m unsettled.

  Am I such a control freak that being with a woman who doesn’t need me all the time emasculates me?

  I wouldn’t think so. I love that she’s strong and independent.

  And what in the ever-loving hell am I doing at my father’s grave? It’s not like I can see the dead. That’s Mallory’s gig.

  I wonder if she’s seen him?

  That’s an unsettling thought.

  I rub my hand over my face and stand to leave. There aren’t any answers here.

  “Hi,” Mallory says with a smile, surprising me.

  “Well, hi. Did I wake you?”

  “No.” She looks at the headstone, then at me. “I have someone with me who would love to talk with you.”

  I cock a brow and glance around, but there’s no one else here.

  “Who would that be?”

  She looks to her left, just a few feet from where I am, and nods.

  “Your father.”

  “That’s impossible,” I reply. “My father is dead.”

  She sighs and shakes her head, her eyes filled with sadness. “You don’t believe, Beau. You don’t believe at all.”

  “Mal—”

  “Just hold your coin and think of your dad. Then come find me when you have your stuff all figured out.”

  She turns to leave and I want to follow her, but instead I push my hand into my pocket and find the coin I always carry. You would think that as often as I hold it, I would wear it down.

  “You always were the most stubborn child of mine.”

  My head whips up at the sound of the voice I’ll never forget. “Holy shit.”

  “Indeed.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  ~Beau~

  “What’s eating at you, son?” my father asks, and I have to take a deep breath, shake my head, and rub my fingers over the coin in my pocket, not entirely sure that I’m not drunk.

  Or asleep.

  “Are you not speaking to me?” he asks with a grin.

  “I’m not sure that you’re really here,” I reply.

  “I’m here,” he says and sits on the ground at his headstone, leaning against it. He’s wearing his favorite old jeans and Tulane University sweatshirt. And he’s so real, I could reach out and touch him. “And I know you. You’re pissed.”

  “I am not,” I reply and sit on the bench across from him. “Why would I be pissed?”

  “Because you’ve come across something that you can’t fix or manipulate.” He shrugs. “I understand. I was the same way. It was my job to make sure that your mother and you kids were safe, and to provide for you all.”

  “You always did that,” I reply.

  “There were moments that baffled me, Beau. I’m a man, as are you. You’re a powerful man, with an infinite number of resources at your fingertips, but there will be moments that baffle you, too. Because you’re a man.”

  “I’m supposed to be the head of our company, and our family.”

  “Which you’re doing a damn good job of,” he says, and I just go still. I’m dumbfounded, and not embarrassed to feel my eyes fill with tears. “Do you assume that I’d think differently?”

  “No, I’ve just wondered, since you passed, if you could see what Van, Eli, and I were doing with the company, and if you would approve.”

  “I’m so damn proud of the three of you, Beau. Of all of my children. You’re intelligent, happy, successful people. I don’t go into the office often, I’ll be honest. A man should enjoy his retirement.”

  I can’t help but chuckle and shake my head. “My God, you’re really here.”

  “I’m always around.” He tilts his head to the side. “I like to stick close to your mama. Not because she needs me, but because she’s my heart, and by her side is where I’m supposed to be. But I check in with all of you from time to time.”

  “Have you talked with Mallory?”

  He smiles brightly now and nods. “She’s a sweet girl, your Mallory.”

  “She is,” I agree, thinking of her kind smile, her gentleness.

  “And she concerns you,” he adds.

  “I don’t know what I’m feeling,” I reply and rub my hand over my face. “And this is new to me.”

  “Well, that’s love for you, son,” he says and slaps his knee with a laugh. “You’re going on forty years old, and you’re just now finding it.”

  “I’m only thirty-seven,” I reply. “And finding love was never at the top of my priority list.”

  “That was my fault,” he says. “I pushed the business too hard—”

  “No, you didn’t,” I interrupt. “I loved it. I still do. I don’t regret one minute that I spent with you in the office. You taught me more than I ever learned in college. I just wish that you were still here so I could still call you with questions.” I swallow hard. “I miss you, Dad.”

  “I know,” he says. “I miss all of you, too. I can see you, but I can’t always speak with you, and that hurts. But I’m here, Beau. I’ll be here for quite some time yet.”

  “Mallory could help you, if you wanted to move on.”

  To my surprise, he just shakes his head, but then smiles widely. “You do believe her.”

  “Well, she’s not crazy. Of course I believe her. But, I’m a black and white kind of man. I don’t live in the grey area of life, and if I can’t see it with my own eyes, well, I find it hard to buy into.”

  “And yet, here I am.”

  “Thanks to her,” I finish for him and shove my fingers through my hair.

  “Stop overthinking it,” he says. “You’re the most analytical of my kids. You overthink everything, and on top of it all, you’re a control freak. That’s great with business, but not with love. She’s not a job, she’s a woman. You’re going to fuck up now and then, I can promise you that. She’ll get mad and maybe even hurt. But let me tell you something, Beau, loving her will be the best thing you ever do in your life. Regardless of all of my accomplishments while I was here, being married to your mother was the best part of me.”

  “We knew it,” I reply gruffly. “And she knew it.”

  “That’s how it should be. So, I’m going to remind you of something that I always told you kids—you can’t control the wind, but you can adjust your sails. That applies more in relationships than any other part of life, my boy. And while you didn’t exactly fall in love with a sailor, the metaphor still applies.”

  We laugh together, and it feels so fucking good, I don’t want to let go of it. Not yet.

  “She’s definitely not a sailor.” I smile, watching the man that I love so much and miss more than words can say. “Are you okay, Papa?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Where you are. Are you safe? Are you happy?”

  His hazel eyes soften. “You know, your Mallory asked her grandmother the same question when she saw her. You two are more alike than you think. I’m perfectly safe, and I’m happy for now. You mentioned that Mallory could help me move on, but I’m not ready. I’ll wait for my sweetie. And I hope she’s here with you for a very long time.”

  “Me too,” I reply with a nod. “Will this be the last time I see you?”

  He takes a deep breath and glances around at the tall oak trees, the early morning blue sky, and then back to me. “No, I’ll be around. But you don’t need to come to the cemetery to talk to me. It’s rather depressing, don’t you think?”

  I laugh, a full belly laugh. “I guess it is. I wonder why people do that? Maybe it has something to do with seeing your name, and knowing you’re buried here.”

  “B
ut I’m not,” he says with a wink. “I’m not six feet under. I’m watching over my family.”

  “Can I touch you?”

  He holds his hand out. “Help an old man up off the ground.”

  I take his hand, and it feels just as it did when he was living. Strong. I pull him up, and am immediately engulfed in his arms. My father was always a hugger, and I didn’t realize until just now how much I missed that.

  “I’ve needed this,” I murmur as he pulls away.

  “I know,” he says and pats my shoulder. “Now, go find your girl and make things right with her. I love you, Beau.”

  “I love you too, Dad.”

  ***

  I head back for the carriage house, hoping to find Mallory.

  I’m not disappointed. I find her in the kitchen, arranging a bouquet of forget-me-nots in a vase.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hello,” she replies and smiles stiffly. “How was your chat?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think I have the words to describe it yet.”

  She nods and sets the vase of flowers on the table. “I’ll take these up to Gabby before we leave so she and the guests can enjoy them.”

  “It was nice of you to pick them.”

  “I had to get some aggression out, and it turns out that ripping flowers from the earth is a pretty good way to do that.”

  I prop my hands on my hips and watch as she turns to me, raises her chin, and squares her shoulders as if she’s getting ready to take a blow.

  That’s my fault.

  “I owe you an apology, Mallory.”

  “I’d say you do,” she says with a nod. “So let’s hear it.”

  I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her breathless, but instead I lean on the counter, bracing my hands at my hips, and start talking.

  “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, Mal. How could I not believe you? Especially after last night. At first, I believed that you believed it. And that was good enough for me. You see, I’m an analytical man. I live in a world with absolutes. It’s either black or white; there is very little room for a grey area.

  “And on top of that, I am a problem solver. Your gifts exhaust you, and sometimes they scare and hurt you, and there’s nothing I can do to help you. I’m not comfortable with that.”