by M. J. Caan
“They’re both human. Nothing magical about them.”
“So why is Glen hanging around Fionna then?”
Her mother looked at her, arching an eyebrow.
“Oh,” said Torie, suddenly embarrassed she hadn't considered it. “They make a cute couple.”
“Yes, they do,” agreed Alva.
“So, Mom, how did you end up here in Singing Falls? I always wondered what made you choose this town to relocate.”
“Ah, well, after I tracked down that author in Charlottesville, she told me about a tiny community up in the mountains of North Carolina that I might want to visit. She didn’t tell me why, just that I should take a look at it. I did that and immediately fell in love with the place. It felt like home the minute I set foot here. And of course, I was welcomed with open arms.”
“They knew you were a witch?”
Alva nodded. “Like knows like. Long story short, I sold the house you grew up in and moved here. This became my home, and I will never leave it. These people became my family; and that’s why I am determined to help find whoever is killing shifters and dish out some justice served cold.” Her eyes grew hard in a way that Torie had never seen.
But then, just as quickly, they refocused on her daughter and filled with warmth. “But that’s not what we should be talking about, is it?”
Torie felt herself blush as she tried to figure out how to tell her mother what she had been through. Finally, she opted to just tell her exactly what had happened. Everything came out in a rush; a cleansing outpouring of what had happened from the awkward conversation at the dinner table with Ward, to the arrival in North Carolina and her thinking she had run over a man-cat shifter type.
Her mother said nothing, but instead walked into the room where Eddie was still sleeping on the table, covered up with a soft blanket. Satisfied there had been no change, she headed back into the kitchen. She started to reach for the tea kettle, but then thought better of it.
Torie sat on one of the bar chairs at the island and watched as her mother opened the door of a large bookcase that sat on one of the walls in the kitchen. She took out two low-ball tumblers and a bottle of Carolina Whiskey. A couple of two finger pours later, she clinked glasses with her daughter and pulled up a chair next to her.
“I am so sorry, Torie,” she said, her voice warm and comforting. “I know you loved your life.”
Something in her tone stopped Torie mid-drink. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing. Just that you have a great life. This is a setback.”
“I don’t think that’s what you meant. You never cared for my life. You certainly never cared for Ward.”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed, and she gave a slight snort as she returned to her whiskey, swirling the amber liquid before taking another swallow.
“Mother, that day at Shawn’s birthday party; what happened between you and Ward?” She had never come right out and asked before. They had talked around it, but she only knew what Ward had told her.
Alva sat her drink down and swiveled to face her daughter. “Okay, you want to know? I’ll tell you. I told you before that man was not right for you. I’m betting right about now you’re wishing you had listened.”
Torie winced at that, and Alva was instantly sorry for what she said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. But he was not a good person. You know, I had found my power by then, and I could see the darkness in him; his aura was all muddy and smoky. He was hiding a lot from you, and I was afraid for your safety and Shawn’s. I confronted him, wanted to know what he was up to and hiding. Something in his eyes told me he knew I knew something was up. He told me if I knew what was good for me I’d mind my business.”
Torie gasped, her hand starting to tremble at the recounting.
“I told him I wasn’t afraid of him and that I was going to talk to you and warn you about him. He told me that wasn’t a good idea. Now, he didn’t come right out and threaten you; and he never said a cross thing about Shawn, but he did intimate that if things got bad between the two of you, I would most likely never see you again; that he’d have to disappear…” her voice cracked and she fought back tears, “that what little relationship you and me had would be over just like that.
“I looked into his soul and saw that he meant every word he said. How he would do it I didn’t know, but I did know that me hanging around would be bad for you and my grandson. So, I left. Decided to make my new life here that very day.”
Torie shook her head slowly, sadness threatening to overwhelm her. “I am so sorry, Mom. I had no idea. He seemed so…so perfect.”
“Well he wasn’t. He was a schemer that one. And I didn’t know how much he was already in your head. I trusted that things would work out by the time you went through your change; that you’d be with me to guide you. And here you are. Of course, I also hoped that you would have a little girl by now too, someone to continue our legacy. But once I realized that he couldn’t have any more children, I knew that wouldn’t be happening.”
“Wait, what are you talking about? How did you know I can’t have any more children?”
It was a secret heartbreak that she had never confided to anyone other than Ward, and hearing her mother mention it so casually pained her to her core.
Alva frowned, studying her daughter. “You? No, child, it isn’t you. He had something done that altered the natural flow of life-giving essence in his body. I could see it.” Her gaze grew distant as she stared at Torie. “Once you master your craft, you’ll see people for who they really are as well.”
“A vasectomy,” Torie whispered. She remembered that time when he had taken a few days off from work because he had hurt himself at the gym playing basketball; or so he said. The bastard had laid around the house with ice on his crotch while she dutifully made him sandwiches and brought him drinks.
Torie didn’t say anything, opting instead to down the last of her whiskey in a single gulp before pouring another. This time, she refused to cry. She thought back to a particularly painful conversation where they had been trying and trying to have another child and Ward had finally convinced her it just wasn’t in the cards. He had hinted that maybe, just maybe, she was out of the child-bearing age and it was probably for the best.
She had hated her own body for a while, and he had let her.
No, this time she would not cry, because she wasn’t hurt. She was angry. And somehow, some way, she intended for him to feel some pain too.
7
The next morning was a slow one for them. Mother and daughter had spent the majority of the night sitting up and watching Eddie while nursing the bottle of whiskey.
Alva showed her daughter more of the magic she possessed, explaining how she never really felt alive until her powers had opened up. Torie listened, enraptured by the description her mother gave of how she now saw the world. She reassured her daughter that her time was definitely coming, but there wasn’t much she could do to actually teach her the ways of magic.
There were certain individuals that were far more versed in teaching than Alva, and she had promised to introduce Torie to them soon. The night had passed quickly with them; they laughed easily as they caught up on fifteen years of silence. The whiskey went down way too smoothly, and Torie didn’t have the strength to refuse when her mother insisted she turn in and get some shut eye.
The guest bedroom was comfortable and well-appointed, and for the first time in days, Torie had woken up without the lingering pains, both physical and mental, that had become like old friends to her.
She walked into the kitchen to find her mother speaking with Fionna. The taller woman was making a pot of very strong-smelling coffee.
“Hello, Torie,” she said, “I made extra, because judging from the shape this one is in, I imagined you could use some caffeine as well.”
Torie whispered a grateful thank you as Fionna poured a scalding cup of the brew and handed it to her.
“How is he?” Tori
e asked.
“Doesn’t seem to be any change,” said Alva. “Ellie will be back soon to check in on him.”
“I came over to give you two a break and keep an eye on Eddie,” said Fionna. “I figured you could use some down time to catch up, but,” she eyed the empty bottle on the island, “looks like you got that covered.”
“Why don’t you two head into town and get some of those delicious carrot cake muffins at Jim’s?” said Alva. “I need to shower, straighten up around here a little anyway. I’ll wait for Ellie, see what she knows.”
“Oh, Mom, no. I’ll stay and help.”
“I will not have that,” said Alva. “You go. I want you to see the town. Fionna, take her to that breakfast clutch you have, or whatever you call it; introduce her to some of the girls. I’ve a feeling she could do with making some new friends.”
“Sure,” said Fionna. “And it’s just a breakfast club, Alva…not a clutch.” She looked at Torie, smiling. “You up for meeting some of the crazy town folk that call this place home?”
Torie looked around, questioning her mother. “I mean, if you’re sure you’re okay here by yourself?”
“Oh, go on…get out of here. I may be old, but I’m not elderly. I’ll be fine. Besides, Ellie will be here anytime now.”
“Alright,” said Torie. “Let me grab a jacket then and I’ll be right back.” She hurried to her room, checked her hair once in the mirror, before grabbing her jacket and heading back to the living room.
Before she headed out the door with Fionna, she turned and walked to her mother.
“Thank you for last night.” She hugged her tightly. “You have no idea how good that felt.”
Her mother gave her a squeeze before shooing her out of the kitchen. She stepped outside to see Fionna waiting in a BMW convertible with the top down.
“Nice ride,” she said, climbing in the passenger side.
“Thank you,” Fionna replied. “It’s a bit flashy. But then, I can be too.”
They laughed as Fionna eased out of the gravel drive and gunned the car heading for the heart of the tiny town. The drive in was scenic and beautiful. The crisp mountain air did wonders for Torie’s hangover. The sun came in and out of view, an ever changing, dappled pattern as it broke through the overhead trees that lined the road.
“Where’s Glen?” asked Torie.
“She’s on days at the hospital this week. She’s a nurse anesthetist, so long hours.”
Torie nodded. “I’m sorry if I seemed a little off last night. I wasn’t really feeling myself, and everything that was thrown at me just…well, it was a shock.”
“I can imagine. It’s not every day that you find out that supernatural creatures actually exist.”
Since she cracked that window a bit, Torie took it upon herself to open it wide. “So, you didn’t acquire your ability to turn into a squirrel? You were born this way?”
“I was. Both of my parents were squirrel shifters, so I really didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
“Are all supernatural creatures born that way?”
Fionna nodded. “Only witches grow into their powers from what I know. The rest of us are what we are from birth. Though I guess you could say the same for witches. You just get your powers later in life. Was Alva able to tell you what your power will be?”
“No, not really. She said she wasn’t sure, but that it had something to do with my ability to hear what Eddie was saying when he was in his feline form.”
“That is rare. I have heard of other supernaturals who could hear the thoughts of shifters, but I’ve never met a human witch who would speak to them.”
“Can you speak to one another when you’re shifted?”
“Usually, yes. There are exceptions to every rule, however.”
“Like what?” Torie asked.
“Well, if we communicate as soon as we shift, it’s easier. But the longer we stay in animal form, the harder it can get to communicate with a different species of shifter. The longer we stay in our animal forms, the more animal-like we become.”
Torie swiveled to look at Fionna more closely. “You mean, you become the animal inside as well as out?”
“Something like that. There are some in our community that choose to live as their animal selves totally. They never shift back to human form. I’ve heard that if you spend too much time in animal form, you can forget how to shift back.”
“Fascinating,” said Torie. “Well, I hope you never decide to do that. It would be a shame to lose the first friend I’ve made in a long time.”
She looked around as they pulled onto the town’s main street. It was quaint, and Torie fell in love with it immediately. There were beautiful Victorians with large porches and elaborate signs on them advertising what kind of businesses they were. Brick and stone buildings also lined the space. They were connected three in a row with each having its own unique personality. There were angled parking slots in front of each of the structures, and Fionna eased her two-seater into one of them.
As they climbed out, Torie noticed there were no parking meters to be seen, and she wondered briefly how the town paid to keep up the lush landscaping and picturesque brick sidewalks that were lined with gas lamps, their flames flickering even in the brightness of morning.
“Come on,” said Fionna, “Jim’s Best Bakery is right up here. You’ll love it.”
They walked up the sidewalk to a very pretty, white Victorian with blue trim and shutters. Torie’s stomach growled at the smells that were coming from the building. The growls turned into full-blown roars when Fionna opened the door and ushered her inside.
The space was beautifully appointed with comfortable leather chairs in small seating groups with round coffee tables between them. There was a large, glass display case that ran along one wall, leading to the cash register that had an elaborately painted ‘Order Here’ sign attached to it.
Torie didn’t have to wonder if everything was home-made—nothing from a box or a microwave could possibly have smelled so heavenly. She lingered at the display case, marveling at the assortment of croissants, pastries, breakfast sandwiches and more. If this had existed in Westchester, she would not have given it a second thought; eating sweets like this would have been out of the question. God forbid someone had seen her munching so much as a donut. The thought of it would have driven her to the gym for a couple of hours at least.
But here, in this tiny town, she felt like she was finally free of that old mindset and couldn’t wait to try one of everything.
A small, swinging door behind the counter opened and a man in a white apron and a pastry chef hat stepped up, greeting them both.
“Well hey there, Fionna. Long time no see,” he said.
Fionna smiled, shaking her head. She turned to Torie and said, “That’s his way of saying I was just in here yesterday.”
“And I never get tired of seeing you, my dear. The usual?”
“Yes, please. Two if you don’t mind. This is my new friend Torie. She’s Alva’s daughter.”
The gentleman smiled and nodded slightly to her. “Very pleased to meet you, Torie. You are welcome in here anytime.”
Torie smiled as Fionna led her to the front of the bakery where there was a set of leather, wing-backed chairs arranged around a table in front of a large double window overlooking the sidewalk. There were two other women sitting there, engaged in animated conversation.
“Fionna!” exclaimed one, standing to greet the two women. “I didn’t think you would be here today.” She leaned over and hugged Fionna warmly.
“I wasn’t either, but here I am. Jasmin, this is my friend Torie. This is Alva’s daughter. She just arrived from New York.”
“Nice to meet you, Torie,” said Jasmin, reaching out to shake hands. “Come, sit with us.”
Torie smiled as the second of the women got up to drag another chair into their circle, motioning for her to have a seat.
“Torie, these are my friends; Taylor and Jasmin, w
hom you just met. The three of us typically have breakfast and coffee here every morning,” said Fionna. “They are just about the best friends a woman could ask for.”
“Well, I’m betting Fionna has talked your ear off, Torie, but you’re still here so that means I like you already,” said Taylor. They all laughed, even Fionna, at the light-hearted jab. It was just what Torie needed to break the ice.
“Hey, Fi,” said Jasmin, “how is Eddie? We were just discussing that when you walked up.”
Fionna sighed deeply. “He’s stable, but in very bad shape. He’s locked in his animal form while he heals. Ellie thinks it’s best that he stay that way. Surely he would be dead by now had he remained human.”
They all shook their heads collectively.
“This is terrible,” said Jasmin. “Someone has to do something. You’re all being hunted.”
“Oh,” said Fionna, “Torie is the one that found him and brought him to Alva’s. Just in time.” She leaned into the group and lowered her voice. “He spoke to Torie, after shifting to a cat; and she understood him.”
Their eyes widened as they turned to look at the newcomer in their midst.
“So…you’re a witch then?” said Taylor. She had long, blonde hair and high cheekbones. She was dressed in a pair of stylish denim jeans and a white tee shirt with a scooped neck. Her leather jacket set the entire look off just right, and Torie couldn’t help but think she would fit right in at any New York get-together.
“I suppose,” said Torie. “Maybe. Still not sure about that.”
They nodded.
“Yes, I guess it can be confusing when your gifts first start to appear,” said Jasmin, brushing a stray strand of black hair out of her eyes. Like the other women, she was probably in her late forties and dressed in a nice, yellow sun dress that complimented her dark skin. She wore a large white belt cinched around her waist, and cowboy boots added a touch of whimsy to her outfit. Something about the twinkle in her eyes put Torie instantly at ease.