Maggie Shayne - An Enchanted Season

“So what happened?” Bree asked.

Charlotte clutched her teacup with a yellow rose pattern, letting the warmth seep into her flesh. “Okay, this is totally embarrassing.”

“We know you dig Will. That’s not a secret, so don’t worry about it.”

“I didn’t know you dig Will,” Abby said, making a face at her cup as she sipped the tea. “Bree knew, though.”

Of course she did. Bree knew everything Charlotte was feeling. It was a creepy sort of ability her sister had, to get in tune with other people’s emotions. She was a good judge of character as well. “Okay, I do sort of like him. A lot. For a while now. But he’s not interested. So I was just looking at Will, thinking that it would be really, really nice to just unzip his jacket and run my hands across his chest. He has a nice chest, you know. Really, really nice. Muscular. He works out a lot. It’s a cop thing.” Charlotte set the tea down, no longer needing the extra heat. “And then his zipper just went down. Just like…” She gestured with her hand in front of her. “It was totally weird. So I thought, bizarre coincidence, right? So I focused on the zipper on his jeans, thinking while that’s what I’d really like to see come undone, it was never going to happen. So I sort of mentally chanted the word ‘down’ and pictured it unzipping, and then it just was. The snap came undone, and the zipper went down. It was crazy.”

Bree didn’t back her up on that crazy thing. Instead she just nodded, looking satisfied. “So we finally know what your magical talent is. I’ve been waiting for years for some kind of indicator from you…Abby and I have known all along what our talents are. I can sense and alter other people’s feelings, Abby can insert herself into other people’s dreams, and now you can move objects. That’s very cool.”

Not cool. Charlotte rubbed her temples. “I can’t move objects. It was just some kind of bizarre coincidental accident. Like the wind did it and I just thought I did it.” Which was ridiculous and she knew it. The wind couldn’t have managed what she’d seen. “And I’ve never moved anything with my mind before.”

“This was different because you focused. You channeled your emotion—you are in love with Will, and love, grief, and anger are the most intense emotions we experience. All your want and desire was behind the urge to unzip his jacket, and then with the pants, not only did you want him physically and emotionally, you added a chant to your visualization. And it worked, obviously. You really need to hone and train your talent now that you’re aware of it.”

While she wasn’t going to argue that all her want and desire had been behind the urge to strip him naked, she took issue with the outcome of Bree’s conclusion. “I don’t want to be a witch! I’m not a witch.” She wore sweater sets from J.Crew, for crying out loud.

“It’s not like you have a choice. You are what you are.” And her sister looked downright gleeful about it.

“Bree, I’m telling you, I’m not a witch. I have no talent to hone. I’m unhonable.” Charlotte felt a little hysterical at the very thought of being Charlotte Murphy, the coffee-shop-owning witch.

“Now you have to go to the Jules festival on the winter solstice with us this year.”

“Not.” Bree had been trying to convince her to attend the witch ceremony for about five years and every year she flatly refused to go. Her sister gave her dire warnings about denying a piece of herself, but she usually dropped the subject after a week or two. But Charlotte had the feeling she was in trouble this year. Bree was going to hound her mercilessly now that she knew Charlotte had supposed magical powers.

Which she didn’t. She was almost sure of that. Just to test it, she focused on her teacup sitting on the table and tried to move it. She even did an up, up, up chant while mentally focusing. Nothing. Whew. Major relief. No broom shopping in her future.

“Try something else,” Bree suggested. “Try to move Abby’s necklace.”

You know, that was really annoying, how her sister could guess what she was thinking. “How did you know I was trying to move something?”

“I can sense your feelings, remember?”

“Or you just guessed because I got quiet.”

“Is that how I know you chanted ‘up’ to the teacup?” Bree’s look was smug, her black painted fingernails sliding through her equally dark hair.

A shiver rolled up Charlotte’s spine. “I was just staring at it, that’s how you knew.”

“Try to move the necklace. Please.”

“Fine, if it will prove I can’t.” Charlotte concentrated on the star dangling from Abby’s neck on a black leather strap. She pictured it swinging outward toward her in a graceful arch, suspending in the air.

And almost peed her khaki pants when the necklace did just that.

“What…”

Her entire face went hot and her heart raced as she watched that star glint in the light from the overhead chandelier, a full ten inches out from Abby’s neck. As Charlotte turned her head to the side to get a better look, terrified and fascinated simultaneously, the star turned onto its side, mimicking her motion.

“Dude,” Abby whispered, her eyes crossing as she looked down, trying to see the necklace in front of her chest.

“Charlotte,” Bree said, her voice low and awed.

Charlotte couldn’t speak, her throat tight, her mind struggling to accept what she was seeing. “How can I be doing that?” It was utterly illogical. Yet she was clearly responsible for the movement. Even she couldn’t deny that.

She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t deny it.

“I told you. It’s your magical talent. And it’s strong considering you’ve never used it before.”

Charlotte pushed back her chair quickly and stood up. The necklace plopped against Abby’s chest. “I don’t want any magic,” she said, knowing she sounded a little petulant, but feeling panicked. “I just want to be a normal family, a normal businesswoman who runs a Caribou Coffee. I want a freaking Bing Crosby Christmas just once, where everyone wears holiday sweaters and sings Christmas carols and eats sugar-and-butter-laden snowmen cookies. Is that too much to ask?”

Instead Murphy Christmas get-togethers involved tarot readings, offerings to the goddesses, and lectures from her mother on how the origins of Christian holiday traditions sprang from earlier Pagan and Druid worshipping. It was all very interesting, and she appreciated the open-mindedness of her parents, and how they wove spirituality and a respect for both nature and other humans into their daily lives. But having wassail wasn’t nearly as exciting as pie and sugar cookies, and a Yule log was never going to replace a Christmas tree. That was why she tended to go overboard with the decorations now that she had her own house. Well, now that she was living in Bree’s house, who allowed her to indulge in her love of snowmen, reindeer, nativities, and Disney character yard inflatables.

Christmas was about family, and she loved hers tremendously. But Christmas also showed very clearly how fundamentally different she was from them, and how isolated she felt sometimes as odd blonde out.

“That is a lot to ask actually. But I’m willing to have a traditional American Christmas with you—I’ll even put on a reindeer sweatshirt,” Bree said, though her face reflected her feelings on wearing emerald green cotton.

Charlotte thought Bree looked sincere, but she couldn’t believe what she was actually hearing.

“I’m not wearing any reindeer sweatshirt,” Abby said. “But I can sing Christmas songs and bake cookies.”

“Are you guys serious?” Charlotte looked at her sisters and smiled, truly touched. “You’d do that for me?” That was so sweet.