Then a couple of cars turned into the driveway, and the work day began.
It was a sticky, sweltering, tiring and sometimes strained day. Several of the witches would barely speak to her. One or two others treated her with a smooth, smiling courtesy that seemed even worse. Her Power bristled, as it had when she had explored trying to sell part of the riverfront, but just as it did not pay the monthly bills, it also didn’t mow the lawn, so she shoved it aside irritably. For some reason the ghosts in the house were agitated too, which added to the undercurrent of tension, although Grace was fairly certain she was the only one who could sense them.
She was grateful to see someone she really liked, a quiet witch in her thirties named Olivia, who worked as a reference librarian for the Ex Libris Library in Louisville. Ex Libris was the major repository in the United States for resource materials on or about humankind’s witchcraft, Power and magic systems. The library also had one of the largest collections worldwide. Olivia belonged to a coven of professional academics, teachers, professors and other librarians.
Olivia gave Grace a genuine smile in greeting. Grace found herself gravitating toward the librarian as the day went on.
Once tasks were allocated, people dispersed and got busy, and the underlying tensions dissolved somewhat. Grace was constantly being pulled from one question to another. Which dresser did she want brought downstairs? Where did she want it put in the office? Did she want all the clothes that were in the dresser brought down too, or did she want them left upstairs? Did she care if the rosebushes out front were trimmed, and would she like them watered? Did she know there was a hole in the backyard fence? The hole would need to be repaired before she took the children out to play again. Would she like that done today?
Then late morning, as Grace and Olivia arranged the lunch on the table, the house phone rang. Grace picked it up.
The caller was Brandon on his cell phone, from the back meadow. Cell phones didn’t work on the property very well, so their connection was spotty, but he managed to ask Grace to come to the back to give the men some advice. “If it isn’t too much trouble,” he said through the crackle. “We were hoping you and Olivia might bring some iced tea too.”
“Sure,” she said, looking at the full, heavy pitcher and glasses with resignation. She hung up and told Olivia, “I’ve got to go to the back meadow. Would you mind helping me carry drinks back for the guys?”
“Of course,” Olivia said. She surveyed the table. “We’re done here anyway. People can help themselves to lunch whenever they’re hungry.”
They collected everything. Olivia grabbed the full gallon of iced tea before Grace could. She didn’t say anything, just picked up the glasses, and they headed out. “I have to admit,” Grace said. “I’m relieved to get away from everybody else for a few minutes.”
“They’re a charming lot this morning, aren’t they?” Olivia said, snorting with scorn.
Grace darted a glance at her. The librarian’s short chestnut hair gleamed with honey highlights in the sun, and her gray eyes were vivid with intelligence. Olivia had a quiet Power that ran deep; she worked daily with books and resources of Power, so she must be proficient at her craft. Usually witch librarians were symbologists who could read, control and infuse words and images with Power.
Grace said, hesitantly, “I didn’t expect how people are acting today. Everybody except you, I mean. There are people from several different covens here. I thought they would be more, I don’t know, talkative and happy to get to know each other. The last work day was a lot noisier.”
Olivia raised her eyebrows. “I keep forgetting, you’re not part of a coven, are you?”
“No.”
“Well, covens are like professional guilds with networking opportunities and regular continuing education in various magical disciplines,” Olivia said. “A witch might not necessarily have any close friends in her coven. People can have stronger ties to their bowling leagues, their churches, their reading groups or any political party they belong to.”
Grace frowned. “Okay, that’s a good point, and it’s not something that would have occurred to me. How does that apply to people here today?”
“When I look around at who is here today, I don’t see people who are silent because they don’t know each other,” Olivia said. “To me, they look like they’re not talking because they know each other very well.”