A Modern Witch

CHAPTER 3



Sophie: Morning, Nell. Good afternoon to you, Aunt Moira. I know we hadn’t planned to chat today, but last night was a bit of a surprise and I wanted to put our heads together. What did you think?

Nell: The big twist was fetching someone who has power, but doesn’t know it. That’s a bit of a wrinkle.

Sophie: No kidding. How do you suppose the spell managed that? I assumed it would need to sniff actively channeled power to work. Lauren’s power is most likely latent, no?

Nell: Dunno. Sometimes spells take unforeseen turns. It’s possible it can sniff latent power, or it’s possible Lauren has at least some ability to channel and direct her power and just isn’t aware of it. Moira, what do you think?

Moira: Well, a good trainer can often sense latent talents, or talents just beginning to bloom. But most often, that emergence happens long before a girl is grown. I’d guess Lauren’s power is active, at least in some small ways. And an untrained witch is a dangerous witch.

Sophie: You drummed it into us often enough, Aunt Moira.

Nell: No kidding. I think I mumble it in my sleep some nights.

Moira: Important things bear repeating. History is full of stories of witches who came into their power suddenly and did terrible damage to themselves and others.

Sophie: Lauren’s an adult, though. Surely she isn’t going to start bursting things into flames.

Moira: It’s not likely, lass, I’ll give you that. More likely she has a quiet bit of earth magic or a little empathy, and those are unlikely to do any serious harm.

Sophie: Small powers that have slipped under the radar—that would make sense.

Moira: It’s not the only possibility, however. If there’s even a small chance she has stronger powers, or the potential for them, we need to find out. We didn’t plan to find ourselves an untrained witch, but we did. I think we have an obligation to our part in this, and to her.

Nell: Moira, you’re our good conscience. I agree with you, though. That’s why I offered to send Jamie her way. I’m all about a virtual witch community, but some things just can’t be done on the Internet. Jamie can verify that Lauren does indeed have power and do at least a basic scan of her talents. That would put us in a much better place to know how to help her.

Sophie: Assuming she wants help. Not everyone wants to be a witch. It seemed like she took it all in good humor last night, but she might feel differently once she realizes this is real and we’re not just three amusing crazy women.

Moira: The only way to start a journey is to move your legs. Sending Jamie is a good idea, if he’s able to go. He’s a bit unconventional in his methods, but he’s a good trainer.

Nell: I’ve already spoken to him. We just finished a big update for Enchanter’s Realm, so he’s got some free time coming, and he’s happy to ‘make first contact’, as he put it. I think Lauren’s picture might have helped; she’s not hard to look at. He can leave for Chicago tomorrow.

Sophie: Are you going to let Lauren know? Do you have any way of contacting her?

Nell: Sure, but probably none that wouldn’t make her think we’re stalkers. She’s a realtor. I assume Jamie can find her in a public place and do a basic assessment that way. If she’s got power, he can take it from there.

Moira: That sounds a bit underhanded, Nell dear, surprising her that way.

Nell: I don’t think we’re trying to hide anything. I can’t think of a better way to handle it. I know if I got an email saying some strange guy was coming to visit, I’d be more than a little freaked out. Jamie’s got a lot better chance meeting her in person.

Sophie: I have to agree. I got the feeling she didn’t take us quite seriously last night, but she still chatted with us. I don’t want to scare her off before we ever meet her.

Moira: Jamie’s a good lad. He can be trusted to do what’s right.

Sophie: I think so, too. Let him know the login spell, Nell. Maybe he can check in and give us updates every so often. And to totally change the subject for a minute, when will we see the Enchanter’s Realm update? I’m so addicted.

Nell: We’ll upload it in a couple of weeks. There are some new levels. We have a lot of online players now that have built up enough power to need some new challenges. Jamie came up with a couple of really devilish ones.

Sophie: I always think it’s funny that a family of witches makes their living creating a gaming world that lets other people pretend to be witches. Well, and entertains some of us real witches, as well.

Nell: We do what we know. I’d better run—I hear crashes from the basement. I’ll let you both know when Jamie heads to Chicago. Safe travels back from Ireland, Moira.


Sophie got up from her computer to stir the pot of soup on her stove. How would it feel to be a witch and not know it? Well, that was a silly question—how could you feel any way about something you didn’t know? How strange it must be to be able to touch power, but not know what it was, to not know what you were capable of, or at least, not fully realize.

She sipped the soup and reached toward the fresh herb pots on her windowsill for a bit of final flavoring. Some thyme and maybe just a little dill. She remembered very clearly the summer she’d gone to Nova Scotia with her parents to visit her great-aunt Phoebe.

She’d been eight-and-a-half years old and playing outside in Aunt Phoebe’s wonderful gardens. Even as a young child, the plants and flowers had called to her. She spent hours in the garden, touching soft petals and leaves, running through their names and uses in her mind. She read about them in a book Aunt Phoebe had borrowed for her, The Wisdom of Plants and Their Healing Properties.

One day the friend who had lent Aunt Phoebe the book came to visit. Her name was Moira, and she had walked in the gardens with Sophie. She’d told her about some of the flowers that weren’t in the book, and taught her a couple of little rhymes to help the flowers open and bloom.

Sophie smiled as she poured soup into a bowl, her heart full of memories and love. As a little girl, she had watched a blossom open in her hand and been enthralled. Moira had recognized her emerging power and quietly arranged for her to come back the next summer for a longer visit to learn about the plants.

Sophie didn’t really remember when she had understood she was a witch. For her, the magic and the plants had always come together. She’d gone back, summer after summer, to learn about herbs and flowers and their uses. She’d learned more little rhymes—some for growing, some for increasing potency, and eventually, some for healing.

It seemed like she’d always known Moira was a witch. At eight, that wasn’t such a difficult thing to believe. Nor was it much of a reach to believe she shared the magic. The rhymes had been such fun. She didn’t remember exactly when they’d become spells, and the plants a way of channeling her power.

Maybe it was easier when your gifts were quiet ones like herbals and simple healing. Sophie had spent enough time with Aunt Moira’s family to be well aware that not all magic gifts were so gentle.

She remembered Mary Margaret, who had strong elemental magic and lit fires in her sleep. For more than a month while she was coming in to her power, someone with magical skills and a big bucket of water sat by the bed as she slept.

Or Niall, who could hear minds and used to hide in the barn because he couldn’t quiet all the voices in his head. It had taken him almost two years to gain barriers enough to handle a family dinner without turning white from the strain.

It was unlikely Lauren’s gifts were that intense—it would be hard not to notice voices in your head or fires in your bedroom. Probably she had less conspicuous powers, the kind that didn’t emblazon ‘witch’ across your forehead in big letters. That was a good thing. In a modern world that didn’t believe so much in witches, the more visible kinds of talents could be hard on their bearers.

Jamie would test Lauren soon enough, and then they’d know. Meanwhile, Sophie would enjoy her soup and get back to work. Several lotions and salves were running low, and the herbals room was overflowing from winter solstice harvesting. Everything was nicely dried out now—time to turn it into more products for her website.

She’d make up some more chamomile lotion to send to Aunt Moira, as well. As thoroughly modern as she was in some aspects of her life, Sophie never forgot to honor the hands she had learned from, in the best of witch tradition.

…

Lauren heard the muted buzz and knew the doorman had let the Greenleys up. She’d wanted to let them walk up as a couple this time to get a feel for what coming home together might feel like. The weather had cooperated, a crisp and sunny morning that did wonderful things for the lake view and big windows.

“Kate, Mitch, welcome back.” Lauren opened the door for her clients. “I hope you’re feeling better today, Kate. Did Mitch bring you breakfast in bed?”

“You think I let him in the kitchen?” Kate laughed, all smiles and bubbly energy. “I’m no culinary genius, but he’s dangerous. He buys a mean bagel, though. We’re set to go.”

“Let’s pick up where we left off, then, and head back to the master suite. There’s a bathtub with a view I think you’ll love, Kate.”

Lauren led them into the simple but surprisingly warm space. There were bamboo floors and restful green walls, and Shoji screen doors covered the closet & bathroom entrances. “It has a bit of a Zen feel, I think, but still fits with the modern look of the main space. Cozier, though.”

Kate sank to the floor in the middle of the room. Lauren wasn’t surprised. She had long since figured out this was how her client ‘tried on’ a space in her head. What she didn’t expect was Mitch to join his wife, back to back, cross-legged on the floor, computer on his lap. “Lauren, give us a minute, will you?”

“Sure. I’ll be at the dining room table if you need me.” A lesser realtor might tremble, but Lauren recognized the signs of a client shifting into decision mode. Excellent. They’d toured most of the available downtown condos in the Greenleys’ price range, and she very much wanted to get them matched up with a home. The big commission would be nice, but mostly she loved to succeed at the challenge of putting people and places together.

Sitting down at the table, she pulled out her Macbook and started to deal with email backlog. Being a good realtor was all about timing, and she knew how to wait when necessary, how to gently push when that was necessary.

It didn’t take long before Mitch and Kate walked over to join Lauren. She closed her computer. “Now that you’ve had a chance to talk, what do you think?”

Mitch tapped his fingers on the table and looked at his wife. “We’re almost there. We really like this place and the property you showed us on Tuesday. As you keep reminding me, nothing will hit everything on our wish list, but I think we have two really great choices. The real-estate market is pretty quiet right now, so we’d just like to take another day or two to make our decision.”

Lauren was surprised. Truthfully, she’d expected them to walk out of the master suite with a decision made. They’d had that ‘turning point’ feel about them, and her instincts weren’t often wrong. One of her best talents was knowing when a client was truly ready to buy.

She looked at each of them carefully. Was one of them putting on the brakes? That wasn’t the vibe she was getting, but always possible. “Do you really feel like you have two choices that could make you happy, or do we need to keep looking?”

“They both feel like solid possibilities,” said Kate, and then seemed to find her own words funny. “That sounds like something Mitch would say. It’s a big decision. Maybe it’s just something we need to try on for a couple of days. It’s the same feeling I get when I need to let a design percolate for a bit. Usually something good comes of it, so I’ve learned not to push when I have that ‘almost, but not quite’ feeling.”

Saying all the right realtor speak to calm client nerves, Lauren did a gut check. Like Kate, she trusted her instincts. This client was ready to buy. Once clients got to that point, they usually felt a click with the right place. ‘Solid possibilities’ wasn’t a click.

The Greenleys had been very clear about what they wanted, and she’d found them good options. They’d likely be happy with either property, but neither one was the ‘click’.

Trusting her instincts had made Lauren one of Chicago’s brightest young realtors. She had a reputation for matching people with the right property. Sometimes that meant careful legwork on the client’s wish list, and sometimes it meant ignoring the client’s wish list. Her gut said it was time to show the Greenleys something different.

“Before you sit down to think, there’s one more property I’d like to show you.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “I thought we’d seen pretty much everything.”

“In downtown condo living, you have. The place I have in mind doesn’t fall into that category. Sometimes I take my clients to a property that’s a little different. The contrast might help you weigh your wish list a little differently, or gel your decision on one of the properties you’ve already seen.”

Kate nodded. “I do that for a design sometimes. Show clients a couple of options outside what they’ve asked for. I think our wish list is pretty solid, but I’m happy to take a look at one more place.”

“It’s unoccupied, so we could head over there now, or any time in the next day or two.”

“I have a doctor’s appointment in an hour. Mitch is insisting—he thinks I’m overdoing it at work.” Kate grinned fondly at her husband. “However, I can do mid-afternoon. Does that work for you, love?”

Mitch nodded.

“Great, then let’s meet at three this afternoon,” Lauren said. “Here’s the address. It’s in South Loop, an easy walk from the Van Buren El station.”

…

Nat strolled down the street toward Santana’s to meet Lauren for a late lunch. Even in the chill of February, she tried never to rush. Her childhood had been full of schedules and timetables and a constant sense of needing to move a little faster. One of the small joys of adulthood was moving at her own speed.

Pulling open the door of their favorite neighborhood eatery, Nat took a moment to appreciate the funky décor. Gorgeous glass tiles topping the reception counter, sexy black & white photography on the walls, cozy booths of suede and wood. She waved to the owner and walked over to their usual corner table where Lauren waited.

“Hey, Nat!” Lauren held out a hunk of bread. “Try some of this, it’s still warm.”

“I’m so addicted to this stuff.”

“I don’t think anyone is meant to resist warm bread when it’s this cold out.”

Nat dunked her bread in the ready plate of olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and salt. She savored the smells and the quiet joy of a best friend to share them with. “You look happy. Did good things happen at work?”

“I think so.” Lauren smiled at the waiter delivering glasses of the house red wine and ordered fettuccine Alfredo. “I think I’m going to sell this great South Loop brownstone to clients who wanted a downtown loft.”

“They really liked it?”

“They haven’t seen it yet. I’ve just got a feeling.”

Nat didn’t bother to ask. Lauren’s ‘feelings’ were legendary, especially where real estate was concerned. “You’ve got some fancy magic. I hope it works out.”

Lauren laughed. “You sound like the witches from last night.”

Nat could feel her eyebrows crossing. “You’re selling a house to witches?”

“No, I’m going to sell a house to the newlyweds I’ve been working with for a couple of months now. Last night, I sat down to order groceries online—”

“Ran out of food again?”

“Yeah. All I had left was a can of clam chowder.”

Nat rolled her eyes in sympathy. Lauren was practically allergic to clam chowder. That can might have been the one left over from the apartment they’d shared right after college.

“Anyhow, you have to create this master grocery list, and I went to add ice cream.” In between bites of fettuccine, Lauren filled Nat in on her strange detour from Karamel Sutra into a chat with three women who claimed to be witches.

“So, let’s see if I have all this.” Nat spooned up the last of her minestrone. “You got sucked out of the virtual ice-cream aisle by a fetching spell because these three women think you’re a witch? And they want to send a cute guy to check you out?”

“Sounds like the weirdest blind date ever, doesn’t it? I keep expecting some dude from a reality TV show to pop up beside me with a microphone.”

There could be worse things than a mysterious man showing up in your life, thought Nat, but she rolled with things a little more easily than Lauren. “I need to go shopping for ice cream tonight. It’s not fair for you to have all the fun.”

“I’ll send you a link. If they suck you in, ask them to send two guys.”

“Will do.” Nat pushed back from the table. “I have class to teach. If a tall, dark witch shows up, I expect to be the first to know. My life could use some shaking up.” As could Lauren’s.

Lauren grabbed one last slice of bread from the table. “If I meet a witch, honey, he’s all yours.”

Nat walked out the door of Santana’s and wondered. The last thing Lauren expected was for her handsome witch to actually show up. Nat wasn’t nearly so sure. Life sometimes moved in very crooked lines.

…

Lauren saw the Greenleys coming down the street toward the brownstone where she stood waiting. Mitch seemed his usual self, but Kate was radiating emotion, a confused and bubbly kind of joy with a side helping of shock. Something was going on, but whatever it was, Mitch seemed immune.

“Hey, you two. Thanks for coming to see this property. As I said, it’s quite different from what you’ve seen up until now. Why don’t you head in with me, and we’ll check it out?”

“It was a nice walk here through the neighborhood,” Mitch said. “I imagine in the summer it’s really pretty with all the trees.”

“This neighborhood is well known for its trees. Lots of parks and green space, but still very close to downtown and both your jobs. This is a rehabbed two-story brownstone. There are four units. I’m going to show you one on the main level.”

As Lauren opened the door, a bouncy young woman walked up, pushing a stroller. “Hey, hold the door for a moment, do you mind? Are you looking at the Edwards’ place? It’s right across the hall from us. This is a wonderful building—the people who live upstairs are really friendly. I’m Jenn, and this cutie is Nolan. He’s going to wail from hunger any minute, so we’d better head inside. I hope you love the apartment!”

Without giving anyone a chance to get a word in, she maneuvered Nolan and stroller through her door and disappeared with a wave and bright grin.

Mitch laughed. “I guess it wouldn’t be hard to get to know the neighbors. Cute little boy.”

Lauren opened the door to the vacant property. “She called it an apartment, but it’s over two thousand square feet of space. All recently remodeled, but still with a sense of history that fits the building. Why don’t you look around a little, get a feel.”

Kate walked past Lauren into the middle of the living room, spun around twice, and kept moving. It was her normal tour, but on fast forward. Lauren would have chalked it up to the client not being impressed by the property, but she could still feel the waves of emotion coming from Kate.

Mitch seemed a little befuddled by his wife’s speed, but he walked around as well. Lauren imagined he felt lost without his spreadsheets. “What are your first impressions, Mitch?”

“It’s definitely different from what we’ve seen. I like it, though. The old wood floors and high ceilings are really nice, and the fireplace in here is amazing. I like the views, too. A tree outside your window definitely isn’t something you’d get in a condo.”

A good start, Lauren thought. He was keeping an open mind.

They both looked up as Kate blew back into the room. Lauren took one look at her and knew. Click. Big, fat click with a capital C. Go figure. Nothing about this place should have been right for them, but it obviously was.

Lauren knew what to do when a click that strong hit one half of a couple. She got out of the way.

“Mitch.” Kate grabbed his hand. “There are stained-glass windows and a fireplace in the master bedroom. The other two bedrooms are cozy and cute, and I’m sure one could be an office. There’s a breakfast nook in the kitchen, and a wonderful sun porch, and even a little yard.”

Mitch’s face was a study in astonishment. “You want stained-glass windows and a yard?”

“I didn’t until I saw them. Lauren, you’re a genius. This is our home. It needs to be ours. It has a glass block shower in the bathroom and a huge bathtub.”

“Well, those are on the list, at least,” Mitch said wryly.

Lauren had been watching Kate carefully, and she saw the emotion coil and prepare to explode.

“We need a new list, Mitch. We’re having a baby.” Kate stood motionless and watched her husband. Shock crossed his face, followed quickly by absolute and stunning joy.

Lauren slipped out of the room, tears coming to her eyes. She could feel delight beaming through the whole house, an expanding of love already making room for the new life.

It made sense now. Babies changed everything, especially real estate wish lists. Yards, good schools, nice neighbors, stability. This place had it all.

Real estate was never done until the deal was signed, but it was a solid bet she’d found the Greenleys their home.