A Charming Brew Read online

  A Charming Brew

  Robin Roseau

  Table of Contents

  Family

  Preparations

  Easy Looks

  Conversation

  Date Night

  Teasing

  Party

  Party Two

  About the Author

  Family

  “Aunt Jackie,” said my niece. “That rocked!”

  I parked the car in my sister’s driveway and turned to face the teenager in the passenger seat. We exchanged grins. “It did, didn’t it?”

  “You’re the best aunt I’ve ever had,” she said with a smarmy tone.

  “Brat. I’m the only aunt you’ve ever had.” But I reached over and squeezed her hand. Lydia was the closest I was ever going to have to a blood daughter, and I loved her to pieces. She made it easy, though. She was a great kid, intelligent, sweet, and inquisitive. When I needed a partner for some adventure, she was always up for it. I’d already decided for her eighteenth birthday I was taking her skydiving. I had five years to get her parents accustomed to the idea.

  We climbed from my car, a yellow Mini Cooper Convertible S. I’d had it for years and absolutely loved it. It was fun to drive, and more than a time or two it had been instrumental in my getting lucky. What more could a girl want?

  By unspoken agreement, Lydia and I came together at the front of the car. We bumped hips before hooking elbows. And that was how we walked to the house. At the front door, Lydia stepped forward and opened the door. “Age before beauty,” she said with a flourish.

  “Brat,” I repeated. I called her that a lot. She could be a real smart ass.

  She learned that from me.

  She just giggled, and I stepped past her.

  “Honey,” I called out. “We’re home!”

  “We’re in the den,” I heard, a man’s voice. Lydia snaked her arm in mine again, and together we proceeded through the house. We arrived in the den to find Meredith and John on opposite ends of the sofa, a movie playing on the television. From the evidence, I was sure if I sat down between them, very close to John, I’d find the cushion warm. Merry’s hair was mussed and her lips looked marginally swollen. I thought perhaps John’s carried a slight hint of Merry’s lipstick, now missing from her own lips.

  Lydia unhooked my arm, moved to stand in front of them, and set one hand on a cocked hip. She pointed one finger back and forth between her parents. “You two aren’t fooling anyone.”

  Ah, that’s my niece! Have I mentioned I love her to pieces?

  “What?” My sister asked. Unlike me, Merry sucked at acting innocent.

  “I’d let you both kiss me,” Lydia continued. “But I don’t want to be wearing your lipstick, Dad.”

  John blushed and began scrubbing at his mouth. I didn’t say a word, but Merry glared at me anyway. Then she turned back to her daughter. “How was it?”

  “A-maze-ing!” Lydia said. “We could see for miles, and the pilot let me run the burner!”

  While Merry couldn’t act innocent, she was great at deflection.

  I’d taken Lydia hot air ballooning. The autumn air had been cool and crisp, but it had been a wonderful afternoon and evening. The trees weren’t quite turning colors yet, but we had slowly floated over beautiful farms and forests.

  “You should see the pumpkins from the air,” Lydia continued. “They were so cute!” She held up one hand, thumb and index finger pinched nearly together, a tiny gap between them. Then she turned around and flopped down in the space between John and Merry.

  Lydia gushed about our afternoon and evening, her parents smiling and asking the occasional question. I stood to the side, doing my own smiling and feeling amazingly lucky. My sister and brother-in-law let me have Lydia in my life, and I was deeply blessed.

  “I’m glad you had a nice time,” Merry said eventually. She hugged her daughter to her.

  Lydia complained about it, but she was grinning, and I knew she was comfortable with the affection, as long as it didn’t occur in front of her friends.

  “Did you thank your aunt?” Merry asked.

  “She sure did,” I answered for her.

  “Ouch!” Lydia said, her hand rushing to her head. “You pulled my hair!”

  “Sorry, honey,” Merry said. She did a poor job looking contrite. “I think my bracelet got caught.” She held out her wrist to display the offensive jewelry. Then she pulled Lydia back to her and made a point of digging through her hair.

  “Mom!” the girl complained.

  “I don’t think I pulled more than eight or ten hairs,” Merry said, tossing a grin at me.

  “Mom!” Lydia complained again, pushing away from her mother. “If you’re going to get all grabby, that’s what Dad’s here for.”

  John blushed again. It was cute, a grown man blushing like that.

  “Thank your aunt again,” Merry said, releasing her daughter. “And did you ask her about that little favor?”

  “Oh, I totally forgot.” Lydia stood up and bounced over to me. She entwined her fingers together, holding them under her chin beseechingly. I tried not to laugh.

  “You know I’m going to say ‘yes’,” I told her. “What is it?”

  “It’s October.”

  “Why, so it is,” I agreed.

  “And you know how much you loooovvvve, Halloween.”

  “You want me to take you trick-or-treating.” I pumped my fist in the air. “Yes!”

  Lydia shoved my shoulder with one hand. “No, I don’t want you to take me trick-or-treating.”

  “We could dress in matching outfits,” I suggested. “We could be princesses or... what do girls wear trick-or-treating these days?”

  “I am not dressing as a princess!” Lydia exclaimed. “And we’re not going trick-or-treating. I’m too old for that.” But then she cocked her head back at her mom. “But I do need a costume for the party.”

  “Party?” I said, letting interest show in my voice.

  Lydia returned her attention to me. “At school.”

  I already knew this where this was going, but I wanted to make her say it. “Yes? There’s a party. At school. And?”

  “Ms. Mathis is the faculty advisor for the party.”

  “Have I met Ms. Mathis?” I asked. “Is she about this tall?” I held my hand about four and a half feet from the ground. “Always wears brown. Green skin. Teaches home economics?” I was trying to describe a brownie, if a brownie were to be a middle school teacher.

  “No! She’s my height with long, blond hair.” Lydia was taller than I was, a recent occurrence.

  I’d met Phoebe Mathis before. This wasn’t the first time I’d helped out at Lydia’s school, after all. I’d been... intrigued by her. I liked taller women. And blondes. Especially taller women with blond hair and bright, green eyes. But, unfortunately, the delectable Phoebe Mathis had neither pinged my gaydar nor shown me any particular attention. Pity.

  “Ohhhh,” I said slowly. “That Ms. Mathis. And?”

  “She’s asking for parent volunteers to help plan and chaperone the party.”

  “And?” I asked again.

  “And I thought you might like to help.” Her hands went back under her chin, and she applied those blue eyes of hers to good effect.

  “Do I look like a parent?” I asked, gesturing at my body. “Why are you asking me?”

  From the sofa, John scoffed. “Because you’re the fun sister,” he said. “The cool aunt with the awesome car. Duh.”

  I brushed my fingernails against my chest. “Well, of course I am,” I said. Merry stuck her tongue out at me, but I pretended not to notice.

  “I asked Mom,” Lydia said, ignoring her parents. “Mom said to ask you.”

  I looked at Merry, who
nodded. “Halloween is your holiday, Sis.” She grinned at me. “And there’s nothing that says we couldn’t both help, you know.” But she nodded her head to her daughter.

  Lydia hadn’t turned down her eyes. And once she knew she had my full attention, she batted her eyelashes at me. It was everything I could do to contain my laughter, but I reached out and pulled her into a hug.

  “Oh, I love you, Munchkin,” I said, squeezing her tightly. “I’d love to help.”

  “Hey!” she said. “Watch the name calling. You’re the munchkin now.” But she squeezed me tightly. “It’s going to be a blast. There’s a sign up sheet on the kitchen counter, if you can fill it out before you leave.”

  “Sure thing, Honey,” I told her, getting in one last squeeze.

  I released her but got a kiss on the cheek. Then she turned and delivered similar kisses to her parents. “It’s past my bedtime. I don’t want to get grounded.”

  We heard her all the way up the stairs. I waited until her door closed before I moved to the sofa and sat down between John and Merry. “Thank you,” I said quietly to them.

  “You don’t have to thank us,” my sister said. “Did you have a nice time?”

  “An amazing time,” I replied. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  “Good,” Merry said. “John, I’m going to show Jackie the materials for the party. Keep my place warm.” She grinned past me. I didn’t glance to see if he was blushing again.

  * * * *

  In the kitchen, Merry opened a drawer and withdrew a Ziploc. She carefully examined several strands of black hair before slipping them into the little bag and sealing it tightly. She held it out to me.

  “I was wondering what happened to her protection charm.”

  “She was thrown into the swimming pool at school.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the thought another student had thrown my niece into the water, but Merry put her hand on my arm.

  “Calm down. She was a willing participant in the events that led to most of them in wet clothes.”

  I considered carefully before nodding. “A little pool water shouldn’t have ruined the charm.”

  “I don’t know if it got torn off or just fell apart from the water, but when she came home, she wasn’t wearing it anymore.”

  “I’ll make another one,” I said. “But it will take a few days.”

  “Thank you, Jacquelyn.”

  “You know, if you let me start teaching her-“

  “No,” Merry said. “We’ve talked about this. Not until she’s old enough to understand what she’s getting into.”

  “She’s old enough now.”

  “Jacquelyn,” Merry said in warning. “The day I lost my magic was bittersweet. Do you remember?”

  “How could I forget?” I asked. “I thought I was going to burst in two when your magic flooded into me.”

  There are many types of witches. In our family line, the magic was shared equally between sisters. But if one of the sisters became pregnant, her magic was dispersed to the other sisters. In the case of Meredith and me, I had kept all of mine and gotten hers as well. The byproduct: the last sister couldn’t get pregnant. So when I’d felt my sister’s share of magic enter me, I knew exactly what had happened. I rejoiced for my sister’s pregnancy, but I grieved at her loss of magic.

  We didn’t know what would happen after Lydia. She was an only child and would thus carry all the magic for her generation. Could she get pregnant? We didn’t know. But if she had no daughters, was that the end of our line of magic?

  “Do you remember our promise?”

  “I haven’t broken it! I swear, Merry!”

  “I know you haven’t,” she said. “You aren’t capable of breaking a promise to me.”

  “I haven’t even breathed a word of magic around her, Merry.”

  “I know you haven’t. Jackie, we agreed she should be old enough to decide. Maybe if she never practices magic, she can still have babies.”

  I nodded.

  “I have something to show you.” She opened another drawer, pulling it nearly all the way out, and withdrew another zip lock. She emptied the contents into her hand and gave it to me.

  I stared at it. It was a home pregnancy test kit. I turned it over until I could see what it said.

  And then I stared, and stared. “Merry?”

  “John doesn’t know yet,” she said quietly. “I’m going to tell him after you leave, which is why I’m kicking you out in another few minutes.”

  “Merry?” I said again quietly. And then I blinked away the tears. My older sister stepped up to me and pulled me into her arms. We held tightly, we held tightly for a long time. Finally I whispered into her ear, “Congratulations.”

  She released me but held onto my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length. I reached up and brushed the tears away.

  “If it’s a girl, then for Lydia’s 16th birthday, you may give her the first grimoire.” She smiled. “She’s going to be so mad at us.”

  “Why wait?” I asked. “I could start teaching her right now.”

  “But you’re not going to,” she said. “For several reasons.” She took the test kit from me and waved it. “This is early. Really early. A lot can happen. You know that, Merry. And a lot can happen in that first year, too. I’m no spring chicken.”

  “I’m going to need-“

  I don’t know where she got it, but Merry threw two more Ziplocs on the counter. That woman sure liked her Ziplocs. I could see hair and other samples in each of them.

  “You and John?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  I picked up the containers and eyed the contents. “These will do for now, but I’ll need more.” I paused. “This is a little indelicate.”

  “You want some of the placental tissues.”

  I nodded. “It would help if I can harvest it myself.”

  “I remember,” my sister replied.

  I eyed the Baggies. “I’ll need fresh every month.” I paused. “It would be good if I could take a little blood.”

  “Mine,” she agreed. “Not John’s.”

  “We could tell him.”

  “No!”

  “He’d be cool with it.”

  “I’m not sure he would,” Merry said. “And then he wouldn’t let you near the girls afterwards.”

  I shut my mouth. She knew him better than I did, and I wasn’t going to argue with her. I wasn’t going to do anything to risk my relationship with my nieces.

  “What if it’s a boy?”

  “Then we wait until she’s eighteen,” Merry said. “Am I clear?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.”

  Preparations

  I stirred the brew carefully, breathing over the top as I did so, mixing my innate magic into the mix. As I’ve mentioned, there are many types of witches. My line worked with potions and charms, and at least in our case, a charm was an object that was infused with the magic of a potion. And so whether I was making a potion or a charm, it always began with a brew like this one.

  I’d already finished Lydia’s newest protection charm. It couldn’t protect her from the random acts of life—no magic was that powerful. But the charm should provide some level of protection from true evil. If nothing else, it would tend to make her invisible to evil. She would go unnoticed.

  I wanted to make it bigger than I had. If the charm were bigger, I could mix in more magic, more protection. What I had was a single bracelet woven from the stems of a variety of plants. The exact plants didn’t matter. They were just a carrier for the magic. And weaved in amongst the stems were, of course, the pieces of hair Merry had taken from her daughter. They had to be whole, pulled from the head by someone who knew their use and including the follicles. The charm was very specific to Lydia. I would wrap it around her wrist myself, weaving the ends together and blessing it with a tiny bit more magic. It wouldn’t unweave easily.

  I was lucky she agreed to wear them. I knew she’d taken a little te
asing for them, but her friends knew I was the cool aunt, and so Lydia had borne the teasing with grace.

  But the day I tried to give her a necklace woven in a similar fashion, she had sternly objected. A necklace was bigger and worn far closer to the heart and head. It offered far more protection. But Lydia had said simply, “You’re insane. I’m not wearing that.”

  And so, we were left with “luck bracelets”.

  What I was making now was an entire belt. It was the third charm for Merry. I wouldn’t have to fight to get her to wear it, after all. The first two were drying, but this potion would need to bubble for a few days. I blew more of my magic into it, stirred for another few minutes, then slowly began lowering the heat.

  I kept watch for another half hour until I was sure it would be fine. After this, I would check it every few hours as it slowly thickened. As the water steamed off, I’d be left with a paste, and that had to be tended carefully. But that was two days of steeping away. For now, it was fine by itself.

  I glanced at the clock, somewhat relieved. I was due at Lydia’s school in another hour. I barely had time to get ready.

  * * * *

  Lydia was waiting on the sidewalk for me as I parked the car. The moment I pulled into a waiting slot, she hurried out to me, wrapping me in a hug as I stepped from the car.

  I didn’t even catch her looking around to be assured there wasn’t an audience. Wow.

  “I wasn’t sure you remembered!”

  “How could I forget an afternoon with my favorite niece?”

  She put on a voice, and I realized she was attempting to sound like me. “I’m your only niece.”

  I laughed. “And thus, my absolute favorite.”

  “Before we go in,” she said, her voice sober. “I want to ask you something.”

  “Sounds serious,” I said. “Shoot.”

  “You’ll answer honestly?”

  “Or tell you to ask your mother.”

  She flashed a smile then sobered again. But then she looked away and asked in a quiet voice, “Are you gay?”