Under the very inconspicuous frog lawn ornament?
Yes, I did.
I gave Gertrude a deceptively sweet smile. “Because I already planned on staying tonight to bother you after everyone else leaves.”
With a roll of her eyes that made me see the young woman who had lived the bold and heart-wrenching stories Gertie now told when needed, she waved me off, as if I had given her an unreasonable answer.
Still, she gave up on constantly reminding me that I was not a bother. After so many times, it was clear that she was never going to get such a thing through my thick skull. After all, one could only say so many times that I was more than welcome to call Gertie’s home mine. She’d never correct me.
Many of the coven members, past and present, at some point lived in the house until they were able to move on. Still, I didn’t want to overstay my welcome, if that was possible.
When I did spend more than a few hours at a time here for shelter or just good company, I was also put to work. When the berries blossomed, I picked them. When the garden needed tending to, I learned the proper way of assisting the plants so as not to stifle growth. I weeded every week or two, so no one would have to hear Gertie complaining about her old-lady hips during the days after, like she usually did.
It was no hardship. I loved the garden that sprawled through the backyard. You could see a piece of it through every window, especially in the kitchen. Trees were already beginning to drop their jeweled leaves, as were the thick vines up the side of the house, next to the flower beds. The earth was slowly drifting to sleep for the next season, light and dark colliding with splotches of rich and hardy green visible in the clean rain.
I dropped my overstuffed bag onto the floor, jostling the small table in the breakfast nook. The noise caused heads to turn midconversation as I hopped up on the empty section of the wood countertop, crossing my legs over one another. I still wore the same sweatpants from last night.
“My gods. You look terrible.” Ana’s dark eyes took me in, glancing up and down.
“Thank you, Ana. Everyone is full of compliments today.”
“Are you sick?” another asked.
“No, just homeless for the next twenty-four hours,” I explained to them all, using a tiny voice. “Take pity on me.”
Ana snorted. She, if no one else, was appeased by my answer. She moved back to rinsing the dishes, shaking out each plate in the sink before she set it on the beveled drying rack.
Her smile was one she shied away from sharing most days, like a hidden secret. I couldn’t help but try and tease her to bring it out. It was all too easy. When Ana did grin, it was genuine and bright, both things I appreciated, and a stark contrast to her sleek, dark-brown hair and row of industrial piercings that lined each ear.
I wondered what Ryan would say about Ana if he ever saw her. I might have been Satan’s gothic mistress a few years ago, but Ana would be a glamorous succubus or vampire coming to seduce your soul for me.
I pursed my lips to the side, smirking at my own humor.
Celeste peeked into the oven to check in on whatever her creation was this week that she always made at Gertie’s house instead of at her own. For some reason, we were all quite positive Gertie’s oven had its own bit of magic inside, making flavors pop and bread rise to new levels.
Whatever beautiful creation was made here, it was always promptly demolished by the hungry witches who made it.
Celeste’s short ashy-blonde hair stuck perfectly out on one side as she gave a small shake of her head, letting the oven door shut once more. “A few more minutes.”
“I thought Essie would be coming tonight since we don’t plan on wreaking havoc on the world,” said Ana, before glancing back at me once more. “Unless that’s necessary, by the looks of you?”
I shook my head, resting my elbows on my knees—the perfect opening for her to hand me a towel to start drying the many bowls. Carefully, I ran the worn cloth over the edges of each dish I pulled from the basin before setting them safely on the other side of the counter.
Celeste slouched against the counter. “Estrella decided to spend the night with a new friend she’d met at school. He recently moved to the area. She and he are both back home.”
The only one who called the poor girl her full name was her own mother. Besides her name, Essie was a sweet girl, set to be inducted into the coven as a witch in her own right on her sixteenth birthday this November, though she often attended meetings since she was old enough to walk.
“Alone?”
“I don’t figure they can get in much trouble yet. Brenson’s there.” Celeste shrugged, referring to her eldest son.
“How lovely,” commented Faith from where she leaned, perched on the edge of the windowsill, completely out of reach of doing any grunt work before the evening meal, unlike me and Ana. “It’s good that Essie is getting out there in the world before she ends up stuck here, hanging out with us more often than not.”
“You mean she hasn’t been that way already?” Faith asked, truly interested in the answer as she sipped her wide cup of tea.
“That poor, corrupted girl.” I nodded gravely.
Celeste narrowed her eyes at me with little humor at my plainly amused tone.
