When the last drop had traveled into the cup, he looked up expectantly.
We cheered. All of us.
With a flick of her hand, Christina released the blur spell.
Customers at a few tables looked over at the commotion.
Caitlin gave them a warm smile—amazing what that girl can do when she wants to turn on the charm. “He’s just learning his alphabet.”
The people nodded, smiled, and turned away.
Saul looked up at his aunt, thoroughly offended. “I know my alphabet! I’m five years old!”
She wrapped him in another bear hug. “Oh, I know that, sweetie! You did such a good job! Look at you, you little natural!”
Dad ruffled Saul’s hair. “Great job, little man! I’m so proud of you!”
Saul beamed.
Dad looked over at Christina. “Caitlin’s right. He is a natural.” He lowered his voice so Saul wouldn’t hear, which wasn’t necessary as Saul was once again caught up in Caitlin’s ongoing praise. “How’s Peter doing with that?”
She gave a sad smile. “Surprisingly well. He’s not acting jealous at all. Of course, that may change the older they get, especially if Saul starts to rub it in his face when he realizes he has more power than his older brother.”
“Ricky will be able to help Peter with that.” Mom smiled over at Saul. “Plus, I can’t see Saul acting like that towards Peter. He has such a tender spirit.”
“I hope you’re right.” Christina tilted her chin back toward the kitchen. “I know it’s hard for Ricky. He feels like it’s his fault, like he passed on faulty genes to his son.”
Mom shook her head vehemently. “Not at all. You couldn’t ask for a better father than Ricky! We all have different levels of ability. Just because it doesn’t come as naturally for him as it does for the rest of us doesn’t lessen him in any way.”
“I know, Mom. I know.” Christina sighed again. “But try telling him that.”
Caitlin looked up. “But at five? That’s pretty amazing stuff, sis.” She looked over at Mom. “That’s about when Cynthia and Finn started being able to control spells and such, right?”
Mom nodded. “Yes. Cynthia was five. Finn was three.” She smiled at Caitlin and Christina. “You girls weren’t far behind.” She turned to Dad. “They were both six, weren’t they?”
He nodded. Dad always hated talking about the different power levels between his kids. Compared to most other witches, all four of us were strong spell casters. Caitlin and Christina both were above average, same as Mom. Cynthia, despite her timid nature, was equal to Dad. We never spoke about it, no reason to really, but everyone knew I had more ability than the rest of the family. When I’d been three, I hadn’t even needed to cast. I just did it. Not unheard of, from what I understand, but not all that common either.
“Well, whatever it means, I’m one proud auntie!” Caitlin gave Saul another squeeze.
I loved watching her with the boys. She was like a different person. Never sarcastic or impatient, although she was more like that with me than anyone else. Not that I hadn’t given her reason to be irritated with me lately. The thought reminded me that Christina wasn’t the only one with an announcement of sorts. I hated to bring it up—both because, well, it sucked and was embarrassing, but I also hated to put a damper on the celebratory tone dinner had taken.
As she always seemed able to do, Mom read my mind. “Now’s as good a time as any, sweetheart.” She patted my knee under the table.
I turned to her. “How do you always do that?”
A sad smile flitted across her lips before fading. “I know my babies.”
I hoped she didn’t know me so well she could read my mind. The idea that Mom might guess the specifics of what I’d been doing nearly made abstinence sound appealing. I glanced around the table. Everyone except Saul looked at me. Even Caitlin paid attention, and she managed to not have a disgusted look on her face. So far.
After clearing my throat, I jumped in. “I owe everyone a huge apology.”
Caitlin raised an eyebrow.
“Again. I owe everyone an apology again…” I faltered, not sure where to go next. I had it all planned out in the truck on the way over, but I couldn’t force any more words out of my mouth.
Everyone waited in silence for me to say more. I didn’t.
Dad came to my rescue. “Well,mijo, it’s not an apology we need. We love you. We need to know that you’re okay.”
