Page 69 of Witchful Thinking
“It does to us,” Lucy said. This wish wasn’t worth it. Nothing, no contest or spell, was worth hurting her. Ursula looked away from the table. She pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her bag and put them on, then faced them. Her chin trembled, and she took in a sharp breath. Tears fell from behind her glasses and dropped onto the table. Callie reached out to Ursula, but Ursula held up a hand.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” she said shakily. She stood up. “You know, I forgot I have an appointment. I’ll call you later.”
Ursula left. They sat there wordlessly staring at each other. Their magic was getting out of control.
Sirena called over the waiter. “Keep the drinks coming. We’re going to need them.”
Callie looked to Lucy, her brow furrowed. “When was the last time we fed Shadow?”
“Don’t ask. I wouldn’t be surprised if Shadow ran away,” Lucy said. “We’ve got to get our lives together.”
***
It was time to invoke the ancestors. Their wishes were pulling apart their bond.
Lucy cradled the lit candle. She cupped her hand around the flame as she padded down the hallway toward the back room. The Caraway ancestral altar was set up on a long table against the wall, covered by a crisp white tablecloth. There were over two dozen photos and mementos of the Caraway ancestors going back more than a hundred years on the table. The most recent addition to the altar was the silver gilded frame of Nana. As Lucy stood before the table, a deep and familiar ache throbbed underneath her heart. Her nana’s spirit was at peace. Lucy reached out and touched the frame of her grandparents’ photo. James and Ruth Caraway caught together at a family cookout—Ruth had whispered a joke to James, whose face crinkled in mid-smile—their eyes were alive and captured in a private moment.
I wonder what they wished for. Did their wishes ever come true?
White tea light candles were arranged at the four corners, and fresh-cut flowers were placed in small crystal vases. Lucy set the candle down on the table next to the water bowl on the side and reached over to the pile of incense, picked up a stick, and lit it. She waved a smoke trail around the altar to purify the air, then, with her other hand, dipped her fingers into the bowl and sprinkled water over the items. She returned the incense to its holder. This space was where Caraways gave tribute to those who came before them and asked for their guidance. She bowed her head, letting the incense smoke touch her skin. Prayers for Sirena, Callie, and Ursula fell out of her mouth and went out into the air, where they were embraced by those who had come before her. A whisper, as light as angelica oil, touched her ear.
You are what we’ve always wished for.
“Blood of my blood. Aid us. Stand by our side. Guide our way.”
August 3
Please join your fellow Freya Grove Gladiators for a night of glamour and elegance as we end our reunion weekend with dinner and dancing.
Grove Pavilion August 30, at six o’clock in the evening
Attire: red carpet chic
Please book your tickets by emailing Quentin Jacobson.
Congratulations, Lucy Caraway!
You’ve been awarded by your classmates the Class Cup—Most Transformed! Your achievements since graduation have impressed your fellow former Grove Gladiators, and we’d love to honor your life! Please respond to this email within the next two weeks if you are able to attend the ceremony.
Best,
The Freya Grove Alumni Committee
August
gladiolus and poppy
Chapter Nineteen
Whenever Lucy went into a Jersey Shore arcade, she felt like she was trapped inside a circus tent. There was a sense of delightful chaos that thrilled her. The musical trill of the machines and flashing lights played around her and Alex. Shouts and screams filled the space as beachgoers won and lost points and prizes with the flick of a button. There were at least half a dozen people wearing animal print or muscle tees that showed off overly tanned arms. Alex clutched his camera, scanning the space but not taking any pictures.
“You said you needed inspiration,” Lucy said, stretching her arms. “Take it all in.”
Alex made a face at the prize booth. “Bruce’s hasn’t changed in years. I don’t know how much inspiration I can get from a Ferris wheel shot glass.”
“Give it time. You’d be shocked where you find your muse.”
An early-evening breeze came from the ocean, bringing in the scent of salty air and fried food. They wandered around the arcade, checking out all the games.