She spent an inordinate amount of time in front of the mirror that evening in preparation for her meeting with Ethan. In a desperate moment, she called Kate for advice on her outfit.
“You need to come straight to the woods afterward, so you have to find something that works in both venues.” Kate laughed. “Good luck with that.”
In the end, she settled on neatly pressed, light gray shorts and a black short-sleeved blouse that matched the color of her hair. She did what she could with makeup but was surprised to see that her skin didn’t seem as blotchy as she remembered. She even put on a silver bracelet for good measure, something she wouldn’t have bothered to do for a night out with Chris.
She sang the whole way over to Ethan’s house. The radio station was playing 80s music, and Libbie was afraid she’d lose her voice by the time she arrived.
Libbie took a moment to admire the home’s exterior before walking up to the front door. It had a more contemporary feel than the traditional lake houses with its dark gray siding mixed with stone.
Ethan answered the door, freshly showered and out of his suit, and Libbie’s heart dipped at the sight of his slightly damp hair. There was a wave to it now that she hadn’t seen before.
“Right on time.” He gestured for her to enter.
Libbie tried not to walk through the house with her mouth open. The house was much nicer than she’d envisioned. She’d pictured a bachelor pad with mismatched furniture and clashing decor, but this was clearly a home with style.
She paused in front of a room-divider wine rack attached to the industrial-style bar. “This is great.”
He beamed as though he’d made it with his own two hands. “Isn’t it? One of my favorite features of the house, aside from the fireplace and the view, of course.” He motioned to the wine bottle on the bar. “Care for a drink?”
“That would be great.” Libbie thought one drink would be a good idea. As much as she enjoyed her newfound confidence, she worried that it would dissipate in Ethan’s presence.
“I like what you’ve done with your hair,” he said, as he poured the wine.
“I brushed it.” Inwardly, she cringed. Was that the best she could do? “Sorry, that sounded flippant. I get anxious around people I don’t know well.” And sometimes around people I do, she thought.
“Funny.” He handed her a glass of red wine. “You strike me as a confident woman.”
“I’m an anxious person, always have been. When I was eleven, I started worrying about trash. My mother told me it would pass, but it didn’t. I still worry about everything, from the rainforest to the polar ice caps to people in nursing homes without visitors.” She shrugged and sipped her wine. “Although I’ve been much better recently, and I credit the cocktail recipe in Inga’s book.”
“I don’t doubt you.”
He offered her a tour of the space available for the party, and Libbie designed the layout of the tables and serving areas in her head. The deck was wonderful. It had the same modern aesthetic as the rest of the house but with the same beautiful, albeit traditional, view. They discussed the menu, and he rubber-stamped everything she proposed. Libbie felt incredibly lucky to have met him when she did.
“Now that we’re done talking business...” she began. They stood on the deck enjoying the setting sun.
His mouth twitched in amusement. “Are we? I wasn’t sure.”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure.” His expression was so open and honest, his gaze direct without inching into creep territory.
Libbie hadn’t drawn a comparison before, but it occurred to her that Chris tended to avoid eye contact with her, probably because he’d had something to hide. Libbie froze as a realization swept over her. No, that wasn’t right. Chris didn’t avoid eye contact with her. She had avoided eye contact with him. In fact, she realized she didn’t feel comfortable looking anyone in the eye. Direct eye contact had always been a source of anxiety for her. Yet, here she was, gazing straight at Ethan Townsend’s face and enjoying every second of it. Was this the magical cocktail at work or Ethan’s own brand of magic—or both?
“I hope this isn’t too intrusive, but what happened to your sister? Deb, right?”
Ethan glanced away, and Libbie was worried that she’d ruined their moment. “Car accident,” he said. “They thought she was going to make it.” He paused to sip his wine. “She lasted two weeks, but the damage was too extensive.”
“I’m sorry.” Instinctively she reached for him and placed a comforting hand on his arm. “You weren’t able to talk to her?”
“No, she had a breathing tube and...” He stopped, frowning. “How did you know?”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “Lorraine might’ve mentioned that you had questions for your sister. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be intrusive.”
To her great relief, he smiled. “It’s okay. I should’ve told you that was the reason I sought her out. I guess I was embarrassed. Lawyers are supposed to seek answers from the facts and the law, not the spiritual realm.”
“You’re dealing with witches now, Ethan. I don’t think you should worry about what a typical lawyer would do.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Deb was my older sister. She was the one I went to for advice. There was a lot I didn’t know.”
“What about your parents?”
“That was one of the questions I had for her.” He swallowed hard. “We were adopted, you see, and Deb had done the research on our biological parents a few years ago.”
Libbie’s hands returned to her glass. “Oh, wow. And she found them?”
He nodded. “But I didn’t want to know. At the time, I felt like it was a slap in the face of our adoptive parents. They’re terrific parents and I guess I felt...”
“Guilty?” Libbie offered.
“Yeah. I also worried about our biological parents. What if we discovered they’d had more kids that they kept? Or what if I my mother didn’t want to meet me? I don’t know. There was so much about it that scared me, so I let Deb do her thing and told her not to tell me.”
“And, like a good sister, she honored your request.”
“Too well. I searched everywhere after she died, and I couldn’t find any trace of her research. I found her Lisa Frank sticker book, for Pete’s sake, but no sign of the adoption information.”
“Ooh. Did she have the liquid stickers? Those were my favorites.”
“Unicorns, music notes. You name it, it’s in the book.”
Libbie still had her book in a box somewhere. She’d have to hunt for it. It was the kind of thing Courtney might like to see. “And was Lorraine able to contact your sister?”
His lips pressed together. “She was.”
Libbie brightened. “Amazing. So you were able to say everything you wanted to say?” That had to be a relief given the tragic circumstances.
“I asked for the basics about them. I know they’re not together because they live in different states, but that’s about it.”
“Wait, you still haven’t contacted them?”
His gaze flicked toward the lake. “I haven’t worked up the nerve.”
“Then why reach out to Lorraine?”
He shrugged. “Baby steps. With Deb gone, it sort of kicked me in the ass to want the information. I just haven’t found the courage to do anything with it yet.”
Her heart ached for him. It had to be excruciating. Knowing he had family out there but being too afraid to reach out to them. As someone with her own kind of rejection and abandonment issues, she understood the dilemma.
“Courage seems to be in ample supply these days, so maybe yours will come.” Her eyes widened. “Hold on.” She returned to the kitchen where she’d left her belongings. In her tote bag was Inga’s book.
“You have a curious glint in your eye, Libbie Stark.” Ethan had followed her into the house.
She flipped open the book but there was no new cocktail recipe on th
e page. She wondered whether the recipe that had given her so much courage would do the same for him. It was worth a try.
“How about another drink? I think I have enough time to make one.”
Ethan set his empty wine glass on the island. “I don’t have anywhere to be, and the company’s pretty good.”
Libbie went through the list of ingredients to make sure he had everything she needed. In a normal cocktail, she’d be happy to substitute, but she assumed this kind needed to be precise. He watched as she worked, asking a question here or there. To her surprise, she didn’t find it annoying to have Ethan hovering. She’d hated when Nick and Chris stood behind her in the kitchen. She’d felt like she was under scrutiny. With Ethan, it felt different. She felt like she was being admired.
When she finally finished, Libbie handed him the cocktail, and he gave it a curious look. “And what will this do? Will I fall asleep until a princess comes to offer true love’s kiss?”
“That’s a fairy tale. Honestly, I don’t know if it will do anything at all. I’m still figuring this out.”
“Promise me I won’t develop a fin that forces me to live in the lake.”
“It might do nothing except taste good. Just because I’m now a witch doesn’t mean everything I make is magic.”
“I don’t know. I’ve seen your recipes. I beg to differ.”
He sniffed the liquid. “If you give me the recipe, can I make it for myself?”
“You can, but I get the sense if anything magical is going to happen, then I have to make it. I don’t think it’s a simple matter of mixing the ingredients.” A hint of a smile touched her lips. “It’s more witchology than mixology.”
He took a hesitant sip and smacked his lips together. “Hey, it’s really tasty.”
“Drink all of it. That’s the best way to make sure it’s effective.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Trying to get me drunk, Ms. Stark?”
“If one of these gets you drunk, I’d say we need to work on your tolerance level.”
He laughed and swallowed more of the cocktail. “I appreciate you taking the time to do this.” He polished off the rest of the golden liquid and set the empty glass on the counter. “I have to admit, I feel a little buzzed. It’s probably best if I don’t operate any heavy machinery.”
“I’m really sorry,” Libbie said, “but I need to go now.”
“I’m sorry, too. It’s been fun.”
Libbie was pleased to hear a note of disappointment in his voice.
He walked her to the door, and Libbie’s chest throbbed at the thought of him kissing her good night. He wouldn’t, of course. This wasn’t a date. It was only a professional meeting. Still, the fantasy of his lips on hers was too good to ignore.
“Thank you, Libbie. I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.” The look in his eye was unmistakable. Desire.
“Same.” Very much the same.
As she turned and walked to her car, Libbie could’ve sworn her feet struck the ground with each step, but anyone who was watching would’ve told her that she was floating on air. It was as though love itself was a fifth element, a force powerful enough to counteract gravity.
Chapter Fourteen
Libbie smiled and hummed to herself, the windows down as she drove to Parsons Ridge, where she’d arranged to meet the other women. She saw three silhouettes in the moonlight as she parked.
“Where were you?” Julie asked, as Libbie exited her car. “I drove by your house to see if you wanted a lift, but your car wasn’t there.”
“I was with a client.” She’d opted not to tell the other two women about Ethan, or they’d never make it to the woods. Julie and Rebecca would want to conduct a full investigation of the matter.
Kate made a noise at the back of her throat but said nothing.
“Are we ready?” Libbie asked.
Kate held up the jar and shook the contents. “Say hello to my little friend.”
Libbie went over and kissed the jar. “Hello, you beautiful witch.”
“Someone’s in a good mood,” Rebecca said.
“I have two catering jobs booked. One to go, and I’ll be showing up on Mrs. Quincy’s doorstep to finalize the menu.”
“That’s so great,” Julie said. “We’re really proud of you.”
“All of us,” Kate said, tilting her head toward the jar.
“I didn’t find anything specific we need to say or do,” Kate said, as they walked toward the overlook. It had been one of Inga’s favorite hiking spots, and the women knew she’d be at peace here.
Libbie stared at the scenic landscape and sighed with contentment. “Thank you, Inga. I love you.”
They each took a turn with the jar, spreading the ashes around them.
“Should we head back to my house for drinks?” Rebecca asked.
“I think Inga would insist on it,” Kate agreed.
Twenty minutes later, the women gathered around the wrought iron table on Rebecca’s patio with a round of drinks. Libbie kept wiping the condensation from her glass onto her shorts. It was her favorite kind of summer evening—warm with low humidity, no bugs trying to drain the alcohol from her blood, and good friends to laugh with. Summer nights were so peaceful here, despite the influx of tourists.
“Do you think we count as a coven because there are four of us?” Julie asked.
“I don’t want to be a coven,” Kate said. “It conjures up images of hunchbacked crones and bony fingers.”
Rebecca polished off her cocktail and bit down on a piece of ice. “I think we should just be the cocktail club, same as we were.”
“But we’re not the same as we were,” Libbie said quietly. Her gaze was fixed on the string of colorful lights strung through the trees that gave the outdoor space a warm, inviting glow.
“Speak for yourself,” Julie said. “We haven’t all been graced with Inga’s gifts.”
“Seriously,” Rebecca chimed in. “The only change I’m grappling with is the same one we all are. Starts with ‘m’ and ends with ‘enopause.’”
“Technically, it starts with ‘p,’” Kate said.
“Do you know my phone doesn’t even recognize the word?” Rebecca asked, outraged. “It always autocorrects to ‘Perry menopause.’ I mean, who in the hell is Perry Menopause?”
Julie pressed her cup to her forehead. “Just saying the word triggered a hot flash.”
“I think summer is triggering your hot flash. The hotter it gets outside, the hotter my body gets inside. If I die a middle-aged woman, I’d better not go to Hell or it’s going to be...” Kate trailed off.
“Hell?” Libbie offered.
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I wish I was having hot flashes. They’re the lesser of two evils.”
Libbie cast her a sidelong look. “What’s worse than hot flashes?”
Rebecca raised an open palm. “Hi. My name is Rebecca, and I’m on day eleventy-thousand-and-thirty. My period doesn’t know if it’s coming or going.”
Julie released a weighty breath. “I don’t know. I’m so tired of being a different temperature from everyone else in the room. Whoever said men are from Mars and women are from Venus wasn’t talking about middle-aged women. We’re definitely the Red Planet, or better yet Mercury, because that’s closer to the sun.”
Kate tossed a handful of nuts at each of them. “You get a menopause badge, and you get a menopause badge.”
Libbie laughed as she managed to catch a couple of nuts. It was so nice to have friends who understood and commiserated with what she was going through. If she had to deal with these changes alone—all the recent changes, not just menopause—she wasn’t sure she could do it.
Rebecca groaned. “My mood swings more than wealthy New Yorkers in the Seventies.”
Julie waved her hands emphatically. “Okay, okay. Before we get too drunk. Compliment circle.”
“Now?” Rebecca asked.
“We haven’t done one since the night that Inga...”
Julie trailed off.
Kate smacked the table with both hands. “Julie’s right. We’re overdue.”
Rebecca wiggled her empty cup. “Can I wait until I refill?”
“No, let’s do it first, then you can fill up the tank,” Julie said.
They set down their cups and joined hands.
“I’ll go first,” Libbie said.
Kate’s eyes widened. “Wow, you really have changed.”
Libbie glared at her best friend. “Don’t make me feel self-conscious about it.” She straightened in her chair. “Lay it on me, ladies.”
“I’ll start,” Kate said. “You inspire me, Libbie. You’ve been so courageous since Inga died. I’ll be honest, I never thought you’d be willing to make changes to your life. You’re surprising the hell out of me, and I’m here for it.”
“You’re bringing a whole new meaning to ‘change of life,’” Rebecca agreed.
“You gave your mother pushback,” Kate said. “That’s huge.” She looked at their other two friends. “This is the woman who routinely puts everyone else’s needs ahead of her own.”
Julie smirked behind her glass. “We’ve met her, you know.”
But Kate was on a roll. “Remember that time you had an appendectomy and were so uncomfortable in bed, but you wouldn’t move Hercules from his spot because you felt bad? You were in such pain, but you still prioritized the dog’s needs over your own.”
“I’d probably still do that,” Libbie admitted.
“Me, too,” Rebecca said. “You’d understand if you liked dogs, Kate.”
Kate swept her hair back off her shoulder. “Okay, missing the point.”
“My turn,” Julie said, wiggling in her seat. “You are one awesome lady. You’re showing your kids how to live their best lives, and that’s an even greater gift than the one Inga left you.”
“Left us,” Libbie reminded her.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Julie shot back. “My book is still blank, my friend.”
Rebecca cleared her throat, signaling her turn. “You’re a great friend. With everything you have going on right now, you still make time for us.”
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