“To put it in lay terms, Violet was a good witch, and now you need to step into her shoes.”
“What?”
“You. Are. The. New. Witch. Is that sohard to understand?”
“Wait a moment.” A few brain cells sprang back to life. “How can you know? You said you hoped it would be me, but you were the one to decide on the heir.”
“The hair.”
“What about it?”
“It’s blue.”
“Are you trying to tell me everyone with this color is a witch? Although, when I remember the old gals who went for a blue rinse when I was a kid …”
“They probably thought it looked cute. No, it’s the fact that you did it. Remember when your aunt changed her hair to purple and adopted a cat?”
“How could I forget? She used to say those were the best things that ever happened to her, apart from my Uncle Paul, may he rest in peace.” Violet and Paul had been the happiest married couple I’d met, until he passed away from an aneurysm a year before the purple hair.
“That’s when she came into her powers. She was easy to train.” Did a tear roll down his cheek?
“How would you know? Or did you take over when Cosmo the First went over the rainbow bridge?”
“You haven’t figured it out? My name?”
It took me a minute to grasp his hint. “That was also you?”
“Nine lives. She needed me, and so do you.”
“Not so fast.” I’d spotted a gigantic flaw in his logic. “If my hair was the give-away, then there was no need to hope I’d be the one. You’d already seen me in all my blue glory.”
“I’d seen you, but I couldn’t be sure until your cousins turned up, looking exactly like they have forever.”
My knees turned to jelly. “A witch.”
“A good one. And the sooner I can whip you into shape, the better for all of us. Violet had her plate full, taking care of Willowmere.”
I scanned my hands. They looked normal, strong and with a few scars from wielding tools when I restored old furniture to its former glory. The mirror also showed no difference. The same crow’s feet, freckles, and tired look. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”
“Bex?” His paw touched my knee. The temperature in my body rose a few degrees. “Can witchcraft stop hot flashes? Seriously, I’m the most ordinary person in the world.”
“It’s like moving on from a tricycle to a bike, Violet said when she started out. You were born with some powers. All of you were.”
“Like what?”
“Why do you think you can match certain furniture pieces to humans and houses? Or why Brian knows exactly which songs to play at each wedding?”
“And Brenda? What’s her superpower?”
“You ever tried finding the perfect outfit you need, on sale? She’s homing in on them like a bloodhound.”
“That’s a mixed metaphor, but okay, I get your drift.” A thought hit me. “We all have abilities? All the Merriweathers?”
“Yeah?”
“What about my daughter?” Did I really want to hear the answer? What if it was something bad? I missed Alex so much. At least she was far from this madness, studying at McGill University in Montreal. Her dad and I had agreed that he’d pay her way through college in return for my share of the business.
That was the best I could do, to save her from the fallout. On the books, there wasn’t much capital left anyway. We’d specialized in sourcing vintage furniture pieces on request, and on taking care of high-end home stagings for real estate agents. My ex had also dabbledin art. Diversifying the portfolio, that’s what he called it when he invested in his name only in a small gallery. I was still convinced he’d cooked the books, once he’d decided to move on. Maybe I should’ve fought harder for my rights. Then again, I’d only wanted the mess to end.
