To Love A Witch

Chapter 8

  

Jake leaned on Romy’s station wagon and waited for her to come out of rehearsal. He hoped the proposal he was about to make was a good idea. For some reason he didn’t want to examine too closely, it mattered what she thought of the work he did.
Her eyes changed from amused to suspicious as soon as she saw him. “What is this, Gang-up-on-Romy Day?”
That wasn’t the start he’d been aiming for. “I was hoping I could get you to come on a field trip with me.”
“Does it involve big, flat rocks?”
“No, a cute seven-year-old. Why?” He took the stack of papers out of her arms. His mother had tried to teach him manners, and occasionally he remembered them.
“Carla was by earlier. She wants me to go do magic lessons with her on Tabletop Rock tomorrow. I thought you might be here to make sure I went.”
Go Carla, thought Jake. “Nope. Carla can handle that all by herself. Are you going to go willingly?”
Romy sighed. “She’s bribing me with food before and after. Does anyone ever say no to Franco’s food?”
“No one I know. So, will you come on a ride with me? I have a check-in to do.”
He loved how Romy’s face could express three different things at once. Right now curiosity warred with suspicion and just a touch of fear. Only the fear confused him.
“What’s a check-in?”
“As I told you before, sometimes Sentinel places young witches in safer homes. I rescued a sweet girl named Jolie a couple of months ago, and I need to stop in and see how she’s doing. I thought you might like to see the system working right for a change.”
She was wavering, he could tell. Time to play his ace. “I had Franco pack me some takeout.”
Romy laughed. “I should just run away with Franco and eliminate all the middle men. Fine, I’ll go, but we take my wheels. I don’t trust either of us on your bike for the time being.”
Ah, that’s why she’d looked a little scared. Fair enough. It was hard to eat on a motorbike anyhow. “That works. It’s not too far away. You want to drive, or eat?”
She rolled her eyes and tossed her keys in the air. “Women can multitask—I’ll drive and eat.”
She wasn’t kidding. Jake watched in appreciation as Romy drove and twirled fettuccine on a plastic fork without looking. “That’s impressive.”
“Community theater means a lot of driving to different gigs. I’m always eating in the car. It was either starve, eat nothing but burgers, or learn how to eat semi-civilized food on the run.”
Girls. What was wrong with eating burgers all the time? “So what exactly is community theater?”
Romy grinned. “It’s what happens when you cross amateurs who think they might like to act with a few bitter old professionals who are past their prime.”
“And which are you?”
She threatened to impale him with her plastic fork. “Be nice. I’d be somewhere in the middle, I guess. I did some professional gigs, but I never had the talent to be a star. They like me here because I’m adaptable—I can handle pretty much any role.”
“What role are you in right now?”
She spoke around a mouthful of food. “Annie.”
Well, the red hair matched, but other than that, Romy didn’t seem like great casting for a tap-dancing orphan girl. “Community theaters don’t use kids?”
She looked confused, and then laughed. “We use kids all the time, but I’m not that Annie; we’re doing Annie Get Your Gun.”
That was more like it, although he figured Romy was plenty armed and dangerous already without adding a gun to the mix. “How’d you end up an actress?”
“I was lucky. A theater in Albuquerque needed a redhead for a bit part right after I got out of juvie. Darlene hooked me up. I said my two lines and schlepped enough stuff backstage that they kept me around.”
Jake realized they were almost at the turn-off for Jolie’s house. “Take a right, here.”
Romy ate her last bite and tossed the carton in the back seat. “So can you tell me anything about this little girl?”
“Some. She set off a Sentinel alert a couple of months ago. When I went to find her, she was living with her father. He took her to Vegas a lot.”
“You took her away from a biological parent because he gambled?”
Jake tried to stick to the facts, and not let his temper out. “No. Jolie has precognition—she sees bits of the future. When she saw, and he won, he treated her like a princess. When she didn’t see, and he lost, he locked her in a closet. She’d been in there for two days when I found her.”
“I’ve heard worse, but I’m glad you got her out. How’s she doing now?”
“That’s what we’re here to see. She lives in the green house with the big black and white cat sitting on the fence.”
As they climbed out of the car, a girl with wild curls came running out of the house. “See Molly, I told you he was coming,” she shouted over her shoulder.
An older woman appeared at the door and waved at Jake. “So you did, Jolie. Invite our guests in, and we can feed them some of those cookies you worked so hard on.”
Jolie grabbed Romy’s hand. “I saw you were coming, so Molly let me make chocolate chip cookies. I did it almost all by myself, she just had to put them in the oven. I forgot about the egg, so they’re a little crumbly, but Molly says anything with chocolate in it must be good. I hope you like them.”
Jake grinned. Yup, Jolie was still the minor tornado he’d rescued two months ago. He could tell she was nothing like what Romy had been expecting. Not a surprise. Most abused kids were pretty withdrawn and suspicious, at least for a while. Jolie had grabbed onto the chance for a new life with both hands.
He looked over at Molly. “How’s she doing?”
She grinned. “Can’t you tell? I never get a word in edgewise, and my kitchen looks like the Flour Wars happened in there this morning.”
He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You’re loving it, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
“What’s not to love? She’s adorable, always entertaining, and she can warn me when I’m about to burn dinner or adopt a new cat.”
Jake laughed. “What’s the story with the cat? I saw him sitting on the fence outside.”
Molly shrugged. “He won’t come in yet, but he sits on that fence every afternoon and waits for Jolie to come home from school. She named him Tux because of his colors. I figure one stray or two, not much difference.”
Jolie had dragged Romy into the kitchen and presented her with a very homemade cookie. Jake grinned. She could be the poster child for why the Witch Sentinel System mattered.
She looked up at Romy. “He’s going to try to kiss you later. I think kissing is yucky.”
Jake walked over and plunked a big kiss on Jolie’s cheek. “My kisses are never yucky, Miss Troublemaker.”
“Do you remember what we talked about, sweetie?” Molly asked.
Jolie rolled her eyes. “Yes. I’m not supposed to tell somebody about their future unless they want to know.” She looked over at Romy. “So, do you want to know whether he kisses you, or not?”
Romy shook her head. “Nope. I already know the answer to that.”
Jolie looked interested. “Can you see the future, too?”
Romy shook her head again and finished off the last of her cookie.
Little girls could be persistent. “So what kind of witch are you?”
“How do you know I’m a witch?”
Jolie looked confused. “Well, you work with Jake, don’t you? Oh, wait.” She looked chastened. “Sorry, I think that’s a future something, not a now something. I get confused sometimes.”
“I don’t work with Jake,” said Romy. “I’m just his friend, and he wanted me to meet you. Can I have another cookie?”
Well now, thought Jake, putting his hand out for another cookie, too. That was an interesting tidbit to tuck into the back of his mind. Plenty of Sentinel monitors worked in pairs. He would be more than happy to spend a little more time with his redhead.