Tami Hoag - Magic

“Maybe I’m getting too old for this kind of thing,” he reflected as he retrieved his spectacles from the cue-stick rack and put them on. He looked at himself then in the ornate mirror that hung on the wall, taking up a space equal to that of the billiard table. Even through a couple of decades worth of dust he looked bad. He looked like a vagrant. His shirt was rumpled beyond redemption, the tails hanging out of his equally wrinkled pants. His wilted magic rose drooped over the edge of his shirt pocket.

A shower, a shave, and clean clothes were the order of the morning, he thought as he slicked his disheveled hair back with his hands. But first, the bird cages.

He went into the parlor and unearthed the coffee can filled with bird seed Addie kept stashed behind a burgundy velvet fainting couch. Also behind the couch were a dozen unopened bags of bird seed and a foot-high stack of mail. Addie was notorious for stashing things away, like a squirrel hoarding nuts for the winter. And, like a squirrel, she often forgot where she had buried her booty. She never forgot her bird seed, however. She only forgot that she didn’t have a bird.

Bryan wondered what her frame of mind would be this morning. He hoped for Rachel’s sake Addie would be in one of her more normal periods. The two of them had a lot to talk over, a lot to settle between them, and not much time to do it. That was the one sure thing about Addie’s illness: it would progress. There would be no remission, no reprieve. What needed settling between mother and daughter needed settling as soon as possible.

“Not that I’m getting involved,” Bryan mumbled as he opened a wire cage and scraped the seed out of the little dish and into the coffee can. “I’m just here minding my own business, doing my little job.”

To distract himself from the inner voice that was trying to tell him differently, he began to sing softly to himself. “I got a ghoul in Kalamazoo-”

“Mr. Hennessy.” Rachel paused in the doorway of the parlor, ready to launch into her tirade, but the sight of Bryan brought her up short. He was crouched over a little bamboo bird cage-Just one of dozens of bird cages in the room-digging bird seed out of the tiny dish with one large finger.

“Addie gets upset if Lester doesn’t eat,” Bryan explained, his expression serious.

Rachel’s heart turned over in her breast. Not many men of her acquaintance would have catered to an old lady the way this one did. But then, he was getting paid for it, she reminded herself, steeling her resolve.

She marched across the room and thrust the bedraggled flower in his face. “Would you care to explain the meaning of this?”

Bryan rose slowly to his full height wincing absently at his stiff muscles. His gaze moved from the flower to Rachel and back again. He took a deep breath, pondering. His eyebrows rose and fell, and he pushed his glasses up on his nose.

“It’s a rose,” he said finally.

“I know it’s a rose,” Rachel said irritably. “Would you care to explain why I found it on my pillow this morning?”

She was staring up at him with fire in her violet eyes, as if finding a rose on her pillow were some horrible affront to her sensibilities. Bryan couldn’t stop the soft, thick warmth that filled his chest. She was lovely. There was no denying that. She had to have just combed her honey-colored hair back and arranged it at the nape of her neck, but already wisps had pulled loose to curl around her face. She was no doubt trying her darnedest to look indignant, but her features were too soft and angelic for her to quite pull it off.

“Mr. Hennessy,” she repeated, her tone clipped. It was the tone of an irate schoolteacher. “I’m waiting for an explanation.”

Bryan sighed a bit, dragging his gaze off the lush, kissable curve of her lower lip. He gave her a bright smile. “Is this a riddle? I do like a good riddle.”

“It’s an infringement on my privacy, and I don’t like it at all,” Rachel said, thumping the bedraggled flower against his chest. “I know I was sleeping in what is technically your room, but that doesn’t give you the right to just walk in-”

“I wasn’t in your room.”

“Then how did this get on my pillow?” she asked, shaking the flower for emphasis. Yellow petals floated to the floor.

Bryan’s broad shoulders rose. Behind his spectacles his blue eyes sparkled. He smiled his most engaging smile. “Magic?”

Rachel frowned in disapproval. “I don’t believe in magic, Mr. Hennessy.”

“My name is Bryan,” he corrected her soberly as he lifted the flower from her small fingers. “Everyone should believe in magic, Rachel,” he said. He held her gaze with his as he performed a little sleight of hand, making the rose disappear and a playing card appear in its place.

His eyes went wide. The trick had worked! He had his magic back!

Trying to swallow some of his excitement, he handed the queen of hearts to Rachel.

She looked at it and went on frowning, unimpressed. “Card tricks?”

“It’s the best I could do on short notice,” he said cheerfully. “I’m not the kind of fellow who keeps silk scarves tucked up his sleeve, you know. You must know, or you wouldn’t have thought I was the one in your room last night.”

“It had to be you,” Rachel insisted. “Who else could it have been?”

“Addie, I suppose.” He rubbed his chin in thought, and his eyes brightened suddenly. “Or Wimsey. Did you see anything, hear anything? Did you notice any change in the air temperature?”

“I don’t believe in ghosts, either,” Rachel said. “No sensible person does. Which is another reason I’ve come to see you. I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Mr. Hennessy.”

“Oh, dear.” Bryan sighed. “I thought we’d settled this. My deal was with Addie.”

“My mother isn’t… up to… making decisions like that,” Rachel said, avoiding the word competency and its legal ramifications. “Really, I think it’s quite cruel of you to play on her illness this way. I should probably report you-”

“Whoa there, angel,” Bryan said, a thread of steel in his soft voice and the glint of it in his eyes. His jaw hardened as he stared down at her, all traces of the innocuous magician gone. “Let’s get something straight here right away. I’m not taking advantage of Addie. I’m not taking a red cent from her, and I heartily resent that you think I would.”

“But you said you have a contract-”

“That’s right. Addie has agreed to let me stay here and search for the ghost.”

“There is no ghost,” Rachel said in exasperation. “Don’t you understand? Addie isn’t well. This ghost is just what she calls it-whimsy.”

Bryan stared at her, solemn and sad. “Just because you don’t believe in something doesn’t mean it isn’t true, Rachel. Trees fall in the woods all the time, and they make plenty of noise even though you’re not there to hear it.”

Rachel refused to listen. Her mind was made up. “My mother is a lonely old woman who has invented this whimsy to keep her company. There’s no reason for you to stay, Mr. Hennessy.”

“I’m going to start walking with a cane if you don’t stop that mister business,” Bryan grumbled, combing his hair back with his fingers. He took a deep, cleansing breath and started in again. “I am aware of Addie’s illness. Has it occurred to you what it must be like to know your mind is slipping away a little bit at a time and realize there’s nothing you can do about it? Have you considered what it must be like to have everyone in town think you’re some kind of lunatic and not believe a word you say?

“You may not believe in ghosts, Rachel, that’s your prerogative, but Addie believes in Wimsey, and I believe there’s every chance that he’s a genuine, bona fide entity. If I can prove that, I can give Addie a little bit of her dignity back. Don’t you think that’s worth having a nuisance like me around for a little while?”