A Stroke Of Magic Part 12

This was so not the way I'd wanted him to find out. I'd envisioned a calm discussion where I slowly spilled the beans after making sure he knew I was okay with everything. But this way? It looked like exactly what it was: a secret I'd kept for far too long.

I opened my mouth, all ready to confess, when he dropped the bags to the floor and shifted his gaze to my friend. In a quiet voice he said, "Chloe? You're pregnant?" The softness of his tone didn't fool me. I heard the mix of disbelief, worry, and another emotion I couldn't quite identify. Me? I think I was as shocked as she.

Her eyes widened. Her face blanched. She looked at me, and I saw in her gaze the truth-that if I wanted her to, she'd play along with his a.s.sumption. She'd take the heat for me until I was ready to confess all. Chloe is, hands down, the best friend a girl could have. But not only was that unfair, it was time-beyond time-for me to be honest with my family.

It seemed I'd be beginning with Scot. Grabbing his wrist, I tugged until he turned to me. "Scot," I said, speaking as calmly as possible. "It's not Chloe who's pregnant."

Relief washed over his expression, which kind of surprised me. He ran his hands through his hair. "Whoa. For a minute there..." His eyes swept over me, down to the bags on the floor, and then back. Comprehension dawned and his jaw clenched. "You, Alice? You're having a baby?"

I swallowed before answering. "Well, not yet," I said, hoping to make light of the situation, hoping I'd be able to get a grin from him. I failed. "But in September, yes."

He did the math. "You're four months along? And you haven't told any of us?"

"Chloe and Elizabeth know. And Grandma. But no, not anyone else in the family." I clenched my hands together, trying to make them stop shaking. Why hadn't I taken care of this earlier? Rhetorical question. I knew why. Avoidance with a capital A.

His gaze stayed centered on me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm better than I was, and I'll be okay. It's getting easier every day." His arm came around me in a tight clutch. My forehead touched his shoulder, and he squeezed me again. Being hugged by my big brother felt good. So good, I had to work to steady my emotions. Crying would freak him out.

"Who's the father?" he whispered, his mouth right by my ear.

I pulled back. "I don't want to talk about that. At least not here. Not now."

"Then when?"

I cleared my throat. "After I tell everyone else."

"And that will be when?" he pushed.

"Soon. I promise."

"Don't you trust us?" A twinge of hurt darted over him, and that made me feel worse. "Don't you trust me?"

"That's not it. Not at all." I took another steadying breath. "Of course I trust you, Scot. My not telling you had nothing to do with trust. It had to do with being afraid and wanting to have a plan so that I wouldn't look like such an idiot to everyone."

The tightness in his shoulders eased-just a little-and the hurt in his eyes evaporated. Thank G.o.d for that. "You're not an idiot. I wish you'd come to me, that's all."

I touched his cheek with my hand. "This is a personal thing. I needed some time to deal, but I've been planning on talking to you-to everyone-for a while now."

He gave me another hug. Then he did the coolest thing any big brother could possibly do in that situation. He sort of shook himself, as if to clear the air, and then he let me off the hook. "So what's going on for you this weekend? Maybe we could go catch a movie or something."

"We have plans on Sat.u.r.day," Chloe interjected.

"What sort of plans?"

"Just a cookout at a friend's house," I said.

Chloe snorted. "Uh-huh. Friend."

I gave her the evil eye. "I'm telling you, you're going to like her now. If you give her a chance, anyway."

This piqued Scot's interest. "What's going on? Where are you going?"

Chloe wrinkled her nose. "Shelby Whitaker's house for a barbeque with her, her husband, and Kyle Ackers."

The color drained from Scot's complexion as he glanced at her. "Kyle Ackers? That guy from high school? The one you thought you were going to marry? Are you dating him again?"

"How'd you know I dated him? It was forever ago. But no, I'm not. It's just a thing we're doing." Chloe shot me a curious glance. I shrugged. I was as surprised by Scot's behavior as she was.

"Like anyone in our house didn't know you dated Kyle. Or what he did." He leaned forward, toward Chloe. "Don't go out with him. I know men, and we don't change. What you see is what you get."

Wow. A little intense for my brother. "Scot, chill. I ran into Shelby again not that long ago, and she has changed. So you can't say people never change."

"I didn't. I said men never change. At least men like him."

Okay, this conversation was getting weirder by the second. I wasn't sure how to respond, but luckily, an announcement that the mall was closing reverberated throughout the food court. Yay. Saved by the bell. "We need to go. Walk us out to Chloe's car?"

"Of course."

The three of us shuffled out together. At the car, Scot gave us a both a stiff hug. "Let me know when you're ready to tell everyone. I'll be there," he said in a low voice.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

And I did. But this was one birthday I was glad to see come to an end. A girl could only handle so much weirdness at a time. The slippery slope I stood on seemed to be getting slipperier by the minute. I needed something to grab on to, something to give me a bit of traction as I figured out the rest. My stomach fluttered with nerves, and I wondered what Sat.u.r.day would hold: good news; bad news; or nothing new at all.

People were laughing. Loudly.

The noise pushed through the wall of sleep and I dragged my eyes open to darkness. Sitting up in bed, I yawned and focused my attention on the sound. It came from the direction of my living room, but that made zero sense. Unless I'd left the television on.

I scooted from bed, thinking that was what I'd done. It wasn't until I reached my bedroom door that I remembered I hadn't turned the television on that evening. Dinner, shopping, and the unexpected confrontation with Scot had left me exhausted. After returning home, I'd brushed my teeth and gone directly to bed.

Another wave of laughter streamed into my room. Yep, definitely the television. Seeing as the only other person who had a key to my place was Grandma Verda, and it was doubtful she'd come all the way over just to watch TV in the dead of night, a flicker of fear stopped me in my tracks. I almost turned back to grab my phone, but the same curiosity that killed the cat pushed me forward. I crept into the hallway, my bare feet soundless on the carpeting.

Shivers of unease slipped over me, coating my skin with bristly b.u.mps. I paused again and listened. Other than the television and the sound of my own breathing, nothing else met my ears. Maybe I'd forgotten I'd had the television on? Anything was possible.

A couple more silent steps and I stopped. The heady fragrance of roses weaved itself around me, tickling my nose. The scent was so strong, so real, that if I didn't know better, it would have been easy to believe I stood in the center of a rose garden instead of in my hallway. Which meant it was quite likely that Miranda was in the house.

Adrenaline kicked in, replacing the fear. I ignored the urge to run into the living room and pummel her with questions. I mean, what if I were wrong and it was a liberally perfumed thief who was inside my house watching TV? Yeah, I know. Not likely. But just in case, I continued to move softly and silently.

At the end of the hallway, I peered around the corner. There was Miranda, sitting on my couch, ghostly eyes glued to an episode of Three's Company. And even though I'd expected it to be her, the sight still startled me.

My shivers came back, but for a different reason. In a weird way, I felt as if I were witnessing a moment I shouldn't see. She looked so real. I took a step backward, but not far enough that she left my view. Her ghostly form shook with quiet laughter as she continued to watch the show. Who knew ghosts enjoyed old sitcoms? Not me, that's for sure.

During every other instance I'd seen my great-great-great-grandmother, a rainbow had swirled around her, colors seemingly bouncing off of each other in a sparkling, breathtaking display. Not this time, and their absence surprised me. Other than the slight glow, she really could have been a normal, flesh-and-blood person hanging out in my living room.

My instincts were still to run forward and toss all the questions I had at her, and to demand answers, but something continued to hold me back. After all, Miranda certainly had the capability of waking me up or invading my dreams if she wanted to talk to me. Since she'd done neither, I had to a.s.sume that wasn't the case. Besides, barging in on a ghost didn't seem to be that smart a plan, no matter who the ghost was.

Should I go back to bed? Stand there and wait? Or creep in and quietly take a seat? I lingered, trying to make up my mind. She ended the debate for me.

"I know you're there, Alice. Come join me. This boy is absolutely adorable."

I took one step forward. "What boy?"

"This one. Here on the box. Jack Tripper."

One more step, and I hovered just inside the living room. "Yeah. He is." I sidled over to my papasan chair and sat there. For some reason, weird or not, sitting next to Miranda on my couch didn't feel right.

We sat there for the rest of the sitcom, neither of us speaking. When the credits finally rolled, Miranda waved her hand and the TV blinked off. "I decided not to wake you," she said. "You haven't been sleeping well since you've learned everything. You need your sleep."

My brain numbed at her words. Imagine a ghost being worried about waking someone. The entire situation seemed surreal, and for the first time I wondered if I were dreaming. If, at that moment, I was actually in bed sound asleep.

"The TV was kind of loud," I pointed out. When she didn't respond, I said the next thing that came to me. "Where are all the colors and lights that are normally around you?"

Her eyes twinkled. "That's for effect. People pay more attention with all of that. They are more likely to believe I am who I say." She laughed. "Besides, I have to have some fun, don't I?"

"Oh. I see." I didn't, really, but who was I to question a ghost? "Have you done this before? Been here while I sleep, I mean."

"It's easier for me to stay longer when no one realizes I'm here. But you're getting stronger now. Your daughter is getting stronger every day. I think I'll be able to stay longer than normal." Her image shimmered slightly. "You have questions. I'm afraid there's not much I can tell you. You need to find the answers for yourself, Alice. Otherwise, I might lead you in the wrong direction."

"But that's not fair!" I complained. "Do you know who my soul mate is? If you wanted to, could you tell me his name?"

"I could tell you, but I won't. I can't."

"Why not? It's important enough to come to me, important enough to warn me, but you can't tell me a name so I can make sure everything works out right?"

Her voice skimmed over me. "That's just it. It won't be right if I tell you. And I've been around you for a very long time. There are things in your life that are there because of me. You just didn't know. There are a lot of things you don't know yet."

I let all of that slide. For now. "Why can't you tell me who he is?"

She sighed. "You need to find him on your own, so you'll never doubt that he's the right man for you. Think of what might happen if I told you, if I did give you his name. Years might pa.s.s where you'd be content, but someday, at some point, you'd begin to question the validity; you'd begin to wonder if all you feel is only because of what I told you. Everything could fall apart."

"Maybe not. You don't know that for sure."

She shook her head, her hair billowing around her like a cloud. "Trust me. You'll never believe in your heart, in your soul, that this man truly is your soul mate unless you fall in love with him entirely on your own."

"Okay...but why now? Why this particular time to warn me?"

Her ghostly body rippled with a shiver. "Your heart was broken, Alice. You wouldn't have gone looking for the right man for a very long time. The timeline here is essential, so the warning was needed to push you along. But I can't tell you anything else. In this area, I've interfered as much as I'm allowed." She snorted in a very human manner. "We have rules we must follow."

"Seriously? Rules?"

"If I want to stay here-and I do-then yes. I must follow certain rules. But that's neither here nor there. What's important is that you believe in what I have told you, that it's vital you find your soul mate before your daughter is born. If you believe nothing else, believe this."

"That's it? That's all you can say? I'm truly on my own in this?"

Turning her head so that her brown eyes met mine, my great-great-great-grandmother stared at me. She didn't speak right away, but the silence wasn't unnerving. Instead, calmness seeped in and annoyance drifted away. "You're not on your own," she said. "Your magic, your power, will give you answers as you need them. Trust in that, and use it to help you find your way."

She was talking in riddles, and that annoyed me. "None of that makes sense! None of that helps. What happens if I don't find him? And how will I know if I do?"

She laughed her tinkling laugh. "Such an impatient one you are. There's so much more you need to know, more I will be able to share-but not quite yet. Remember what I said. Find him, Alice. It really is within your power."

My eyes watered, so I blinked. In the s.p.a.ce of that blink, Miranda disappeared. "Great," I muttered. "You could have at least said good-bye."

Knowing sleep was definitely not going to happen now, I turned the television back on, more for the noise than for entertainment. My mind once again went over everything I knew, every detail. She'd said to trust in the magic, so maybe whatever I needed to do I hadn't done yet. More wishes? More drawings? I unfolded the blanket draped over the back of the couch and lay down. Maybe if I stared at the TV long enough, I'd fall asleep. If I were really lucky, maybe I'd wake up in the morning with the answer.

One could always hope.

Chapter Nine.

Grant and Shelby Harris lived in a neighborhood teeming with kids, pets, beautiful houses, manicured lawns, and blooming spring flowers. Their house was a pale yellow Cape Cod-style home with brilliant blue shutters, a matching door, and a vibrant splash of tulips and daffodils lining their front walk. It was as if we'd left the real world and somehow driven into an alternative universe that wasn't exactly The Stepford Wives but was pretty darn close.

Ethan pulled into Shelby's driveway. Chloe had decided to drive herself-probably so she'd have an easy escape route if she deemed it necessary. I couldn't blame her. Besides, it had given me the opportunity to explain a few things to Ethan on the ride over.

"Chloe dated Kyle; then Shelby dated Kyle. Now they're only friends and Chloe hasn't seen either of them in years, but will today at the cookout. Anything else I need to know?" Ethan tucked his car keys in the pocket of his jeans. "I feel like I should take notes," he teased.

Wow. What had taken me fifteen minutes to say, he'd distilled down to one sentence. "No, those are the basics. I wanted you to know the background, in case there are some weird undercurrents." I'd left out far more than I'd shared, because it was private, but the little I'd told him had made me want to confide all of my secrets to him. The magic. Miranda. All of it. Of course, I hadn't. Based on our conversation at Frosty's, he didn't hold the supernatural in high regard. So, for now, I had secrets I'd keep to myself.

Unbuckling his seat belt, he angled his body toward me. My heart beat a little faster. Mark Twain once said, "Clothes make the man," but in Ethan's case, the opposite was true. Even in casual clothes-faded blue jeans and a navy sweatshirt-he looked just as dashing, just as s.e.xy, just as male as he normally did. No dark stubble covered his jaw today, which was a pity. I liked that rough and tumble look. But he was still hot, clean-shaven jaw and all.

His eyes met mine and I thought-maybe-that he was going to kiss me. My stomach did a somersault. He leaned closer, and I slanted myself forward too.

"Ready to go in?" he asked, unbuckling my seat belt before reaching across me to open my door.

"Oh. Um. Sure." No kiss, but at least I'd gotten to sniff him without him realizing. Not such a bad trade-off. But when I stepped from the car, my knees almost buckled. Somehow, I managed to stay upright.

Chloe parked in the street in front of Shelby's house, instead of in the driveway. I recognized the maneuver for what it was. She didn't want to get stuck behind someone else's car. Again, I didn't blame her. That morning, we'd both laughed over the fuss I'd made at the mall, because when push came to shove, I went with my standard jeans (albeit a new pair) and a long-sleeved red tunic.

She wasn't laughing now. When she reached us, my heart went out. Her pale complexion told me she was even more nervous than I.

Ethan must have noticed too, because he tucked one of his arms through mine, and his other through hers. "I'm a lucky guy, escorting two such beautiful women," he remarked.

Chloe shot him a smile. A real one, because it reached her eyes. "You're very sweet to say that."

"Just stating the truth," he responded. And then, arm in arm, we walked to the front door.

Even though I'd already known Ethan was a good guy, this gesture, as small as it was, made it even more apparent. Soul mate or not, I was lucky to have met him.

Disengaging my arm from his, I rang the bell and then wiped my palms on my pants. Shelby opened the door almost immediately-so fast, she must have been watching for us through the window. Dressed in khaki capris and a long white billowy blouse, she had the same cover-model perfection from the other day going for her. She still looked tired though, and while I wouldn't have thought it possible, her belly seemed even larger. "Hi, Alice! This must be Ethan? It's nice to meet you. I'm Shelby." After he nodded, she said, "And Chloe, I'm glad you decided to come. It's great to see you again."

"Thank you for the invitation," Chloe replied, her voice polite but with zero warmth. "You have a beautiful home."