Authors: Curtis Hox
Josie watches Lady Dooley check her watch.
In slow motion, she sees the high priestess look toward Stella. She gives one nod.
“It’s time.”
Stella only needs six steps to get to him.
Lennox’s eyes move toward her, as if she’s a monster about to devour him.
At midnight, whomever he kisses …
Josie rushes toward Lennox.
Two more steps …
She feels herself lock in place. She can’t turn her head. She hears the incantation coming from Roxy. That damn switch must be pointing right at her. Roxy has used it against her, one witch against another. Josie wants to scream in anguish, but the sound won’t form.
She’s only inches from him.
If I can just …
Lennox’s eyes are wide with desire.
They both strain against the invisible bonds, neither moving a millimeter.
“Stella, if you will,” Lady Dooley says.
Stella enters Josie’s field of vision. The woman is glaring hatred. Josie glares it back.
Stella edges past Josie, grabs Lennox by the waist, and snakes her hips to his. She pecks him once.
Josie closes her eyes because she doesn’t want to see.
She feels the bond loosen.
She turns and edges away from Roxy, whose switch, still dangling in her hand, looks like nothing more than a piece of denuded shrubbery.
Lennox falls onto a couch in a swoon.
His hands are at his head, as if he’s just been stunned by a punch.
Stella attends to him like a devoted wife.
Josie watches as they embrace; he looks into Stella’s eyes.
The moment is more than Josie can bear.
She turns and rushes from the room, hearing him say the horrible words, “My love …”
* * *
An official convocation is to happen. The following day, Josie manages to arrive for lunch before it’s served. She hasn’t spoken a word to anyone since last night’s travesty. Aunt Emma has arrived, as have several other members of the coven. She ignores them as she loiters near the kitchen, hoping that Stella and Lennox have already left.
Mr. and Lady Dooley are already seated. He’s speaking with Mr. Polk, who’s still here even though Josie doesn’t need to see him again. He should head home and act right. That’s it, really. Act right. A little push to help him out is all. What the witches did to Lennox, though, was the same thing as tearing out his soul and replacing it with something of her making.
She stares at her shaking hands.
She wraps one around the other and steps into a side closet in the corridor.
I’m a lowly brewer, she thinks, for people to abuse and bend to their wills.
Before she starts crying again, she walks into the kitchen. Stella and Lennox also enter from the back way, obviously having taken a morning walk. They are both smiling, both with sweat on their brows. He looks like he might grab her in his arms and run around in circles in the lawn. Just for fun.
Josie tears her eyes away before the ache overcomes her.
“Glad you all could make it,” Lady Dooley says. “I want to extend a formal invitation to our organization … where is she?” Lady Dooley sees Josie at the end of the table as if, suddenly, her eye sight isn’t what it once was. “I want to extend a formal invitation to Josie Bran. She’s proven resourceful. Her skills are top notch. She’s young. She may not know our traditions, but she can learn.”
All eyes fall on Josie. Her plate is empty. Alice is busing herself with the final touches on a second round of tuna-fish sandwiches, peppered with raisins and sweet apples.
“Hi,” Josie says and waves. “Glad I could be of service.”
Josie can’t bear to look at her.
Everyone else offers a greeting; then lunch continues. Modern witchcraft isn’t much on ritual and ceremony anymore, at least that’s what it seems to Josie. She’s not much for it, anyway.
When her sandwich comes, she takes a deep breath and tells herself to enjoy it. By the time she’s done, she plans to be over Lennox Cruz.
She grabs it to take a bite and sees him staring at her.
Her heart misses a beat, two, three. She thinks she might float off her chair right there. The love potion didn’t work. It didn’t work. He still wants me. She lets the impossible thought hand in the air as the moment freezes. He’s staring right at her; for as long as it takes to bat an eye, he’s staring. She catches the look, a connection, a moment, a shared thing. No doubt about it, she tells herself. He is trying to communicate with me, and me only. Right here at this table. But how can I be sure? How can I know it’s Lennox behind the smiles? Lennox, who I’d give up the world for?
“Can you pass the sweet tea?” he asks, smiling.
She sees the carafe of sweet tea so thick it’s like molasses. It’s filled to the top. She sees her hand move to the handle, a single thought filling her mind: please let him say it, please let him say the words, if he says it, I’ll know I’ll know I’ll know.
She hands the tea to the person on her right, who passes it to him.
Looking directly at her, he says, “You’re a life saver, Josie Bran. A life saver.”
* * *
Her food is tasteless, yet she continues to eat. She steals a few glances Lennox’s way. He never looks at her. Lunch passes so slowly she feels sick from the stress. She waits until the right time. She stands up, excuses herself, and walks away. She forces herself to walk slowly, even down the narrow corridor to the vestibule, even up the grand staircase, even all the way to her room.
He said I’m a Life Saver. He used the words. But …
Josie opens the door to her room and finds Christine waiting for her. She appears to have snuck away during lunch. But she skipped eating with everyone downstairs. Still, Christine looks put together and content.
“Why did you let this happen?” Josie asks. She slams the door behind her. “Sorry. My nerves are shot.” Josie plods past Christine and flops on the window sill, where she often likes to think.
“Let what happen, exactly?”
“You know … the potion … the joining … Lennox and Stella, in love.”
Christine runs a fingertip along Josie’s dresser, as if checking for dust. “This is a place where we rehab husbands, Josie.”
“He said it to me, said I was a life saver. No one knows what that means but the two of us. He said it right to my face.”
“Of course he did. I had a feeling he’d let you know. You’ve always been special to him, and always will be.”
Josie cries out, the anxiety too much to bear. Christine is standing there, as if nothing has happened, as if her son isn’t joined to the meanest witch south of the Mason-Dixon. Her son, yes, the one she is supposed protect, was forced to love someone he doesn’t. Worse, the woman he wants to be with, Josie, had to help. What kind of mother would do such a thing? One who can stand there as solid as stone in a storm. One who may believe everything is as it should be.
“Christine, what are you saying? The potion didn’t work … or something else?”
“It worked.”
“No …”
“Lennox is safe, Josie. He’ll love Stella, even though she’s a manipulating, self-serving control freak. He’ll find the space he needs to practice the craft, which he also loves, away from High Priestess Dooley. He’ll be healthy, Josie. Isn’t that what’s most important? Secure and happy? You have no idea what could happen to him if he fell into the wrong hands.”
“But he said the words.”
“He meant them. You are a life saver. You saved his life, Josie.”
Josie’s eyes well, and her heart feels like it might burst, seams opening, everything in her spilling onto the floor.
Christine places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, someday, when the time is right, I’ll send for him. And we’ll see what we can do about his difficult wife. A widower can love again.”
Through the tears, Josie tries to read Christine. “Are you suggesting …?”
“Nothing at all. Now, let’s talk about Husband Rehab and the renovation of Birchall … “
Josie ignores her as the words roll together. It’s so obvious now: Christine is content because she believes Lennox is safe. Josie has been the problem. She fell for a married man. She was brought to Birchall to fix wayward husbands, not steal them.
But he said the words, Josie reminds herself.
I guess I am a life saver. Just not the right kind.
THE END