Chloe’s pale blonde hair was fine and silky. It was a lot like how Grace’s and her sister Petra’s had been when they were small. Both Grace’s and Petra’s hair had darkened as they grew older. There was a good chance Chloe’s hair would deepen into the same shade of strawberry blonde, while Max had inherited his father’s Mediterranean-style, dark good looks.
Chloe’s curls were now floating around her head, except, Grace noticed with embarrassment, for a tangled knot at the back. She had forgotten to comb Chloe’s hair before they went out. Well hell, she’d forgotten to comb her own hair too. That’s what she got for trying to stagger through her day in a half coma. She tried finger-combing first Chloe’s hair then her own, with limited success.
Nine-month-old Max was sound asleep and snoring in his carrier, his little rosebud mouth open. After being so sick through the night, the poor baby boy was exhausted.
Pushing the cart with the children loaded into it, Grace limped into the grocery store. Super Saver was a no-frills discount grocery store, with goods stacked in the aisles in cardboard boxes, but they had a refrigerated and freezer section, and the store was air-conditioned. Grace sighed with relief as cool air licked her skin, even as the change in temperature made her exhausted head spin.
She gritted her teeth. All she had to do was get the groceries home and put away the stuff that needed refrigeration. She could put everything else away later. Maybe she could coax Chloe into watching a Dora the Explorer DVD while Grace stretched out on the couch and napped. Sometime that day she had to figure out which of the red-inked bills she could pay, but that could wait until she had at least part of her brain back in working order.
She frowned at the stack of boxes in front of her. Should she get two cans of tuna or three? They were down to the last of their food stamps for the month, and every small decision mattered.
Once, neither Grace nor anyone else in her family would have dreamed of going on food stamps. Her lineage was a very old, proud one with its roots in ancient Greece. The Andreas family had a unique Power among human witches, the Power of the Oracle that was passed down from female to female over countless generations.
Once the Oracle had been located in a sacred temple complex at Delphi. Kings and queens, Roman senators and emperors, humans and all sorts of creatures from the Elder Races came as supplicants to petition for her prophecies. In return they laid a fortune in gold and jewels at her feet. It was all part of an ancient social contract that almost nobody remembered to honor any longer.
The Oracle spoke for the people, and the people were to support her. Petitioners were to give offerings to the Oracle. The Oracle could not ask for or demand money. If she did, she would be charging for her services, and legend had it, the moment she did that, she would lose her Power of prophecy.
Other family members could speak on the Oracle’s behalf, but unfortunately the family had gone through several generations of financial decline, ill-health and just plain bad luck. Grace’s parents had died when she was a small child. Her grandmother raised her and Petra, and taught them the old traditions. Five years ago, when Grace was nineteen and Petra twenty-six and newly married, their grandmother died of cancer. Niko had been Petra’s champion when the Power had passed on to her. Niko’d had no problem reminding petitioners of their obligations to his wife. Then earlier this year, Petra and her husband, Niko, had been killed, and the Power moved on to Grace.
Now there was only Grace and the children, and Grace was only twenty-three. She was facing something she should never have had to face alone, and she had her niece and nephew to feed, two small children for whom she would do anything. Hell yes, she applied for food stamps. Just as soon as she was able to leave the hospital, she had applied for everything they were eligible to apply for.
As far as her holding on to the Oracle’s traditions went, that decision was touch and go. When she was in the hospital recovering, Grace had promised herself she would not make any long-term decisions or commitments to anything or anyone other than Chloe and Max. If anything else became intolerable, she would drop it.
For now it was one foot in front of the other, one day at a time. She gently touched the back of Chloe’s tangled, shining head.
Chloe looked up and smiled.
“Gracie, did we have company when I was sleeping?” Chloe asked.
“Yes, baby girl,” Grace said.
“Why didn’t you wake me up? I like company. Did they miss me?”
“I’m sure they would have if they had known about you,” Grace said. “But this was adult company. This was not Chloe company.”
“I’m a big girl,” Chloe scolded. “I’m very big now.”