Fire Spell (3 page)

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Authors: T.A. Foster

Tags: #Romace

BOOK: Fire Spell
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“Ok. Ok. We need to get home.” I held up my hand to make her stop. “I’ve got to find a story, a new house, and an excuse Jack will believe. We have drunk ourselves silly.” My head was spinning.

“True. True.” Holly nodded. “Hey, I wanted to ask you before we leave. Have either of your parents said anything about spell trouble?”

I tilted my head. “Spell trouble? What do you mean?”

“I don’t really know. My mom mentioned something in passing, and wondered if I was having any problems with my spells. It was odd the way she said it. Thought I’d check with you.”

“Nope. Not a word from Richard or Violet. They are as happy as ever at the restaurant. All my mother talks about is the wedding she has next month. Wedding, wedding, wedding.” I rolled my eyes.

We scooped up our purses and slid out of the booth. I watched the couples dancing near the DJ and envied the girls who were going home with someone tonight. I missed it. I missed curling up in the morning under the covers. I missed the way it felt to hold a strong hand in my palm. I missed kissing; I really missed kissing. Finn left, and then I dated Evan for a short time, and then nothing. It was as if a draught had descended on my love life. I had started to wonder if someone had cast a love curse on me. I hadn’t gone this long without a date since I was in middle school.

“Ivy? You coming?” Holly tugged on my elbow.

“Yep.” I smiled at the dancers then turned for the exit. It would happen for me again. I had to hold on to that.

I
WAVED
my hand over the last box. “Close.” A strip of tape appeared along the cardboard folds. I liked packing this way. It was quicker than doing it by hand. Might as well use my skills when I could. I smiled and patted Cooper on the head.

“You’re going to like the new house, boy.” I had repeated that statement to myself twenty times, but it wasn’t helping. I didn’t want to leave Southern Avenue or the memories in these walls.

Daddy had warned me there would be consequences to writing screenplays with my real name. I wasn’t about to admit he might have been right. Leaving my cottage was one of the sacrifices I had to make.

“Knock, knock. You home, sis?” Ian poked his head in the front door.

“Convenient timing. I just packed the last box.” I had forgotten my brother had mentioned he was going to stop by this afternoon.

“Yep. Didn’t want to miss the heavy lifting, but looks like you are all set.” He walked around the piles of boxes.

It was good to see him, even if he had shirked out of helping me.

“That just means you can help me with all of the
un
packing.” I poked him in the ribs.

“That’s why you have magic. You don’t need me.” He sat on the edge of my couch.

I surveyed the room. It really was ending. “Would you mind doing a sweep for me just in case I forgot anything? A second pair of eyes always helps.”

Ian hopped off the armrest. “Sure. I can handle that.” He strolled down the hall and stopped under the attic pull down. “Did you get everything in the attic?”

“I don’t keep anything up there, but would you mind checking?” I headed to the kitchen, and opened cabinets and drawers, looking for forgotten items.

A few minutes later, Ian walked toward me with a box in his arms. “You missed one.” He placed it on the counter.

I didn’t remember storing anything in the attic. I pulled the flap open. “Oh. I wondered what happened to this.”

“What is it?” Ian asked over my shoulder.

“Daddy gave it to me when Gigi died. It’s a bunch of her stuff. I guess I put it in the attic, thinking I’d look at it later. It made me too sad at the time.” I reached for a stack of pictures. They were mostly black and white. “I forgot I had it.” I felt guilty stashing my grandmother’s things where I had forgotten them. What if I had left them in the move? Gigi, or Grandma Grace as we more formally referred to her, had selected the items in the box just for me.

“Is that Dad?” Ian held up a picture of a little boy, who was in full toddler mode, holding a beach bucket.

I laughed. “I think so.” I shuffled through a few more photos and landed on one of my grandmother.

Her hair was long and blond like mine. She was smiling at a man I didn’t recognize. I held the photo closer. On her right hand was her ring. My ring. That gift from her had changed my life forever. I flipped the picture over, looking for a date. In the corner, she had scrawled
May 1949 Charleston with Leo
.

Ian raised his eyebrows. “Who’s Leo? That’s not Granddad.”

“I don’t know. But I’m sure Gigi had a life before she was a wife and a mother.” I wished she were with us now to tell me the story. Leo was kind of hot. There were so many stories I wanted to hear, starting with the one about this guy.

I twirled the ring on my finger. It was true I could
Time Spell
if I wanted to see her, but I had never traveled to see anyone in my family or myself. Something about it seemed incredibly creepy, and a part of me always thought it would throw the spell out of wack if there were two Ivys in the same place at the same time.

Leo was handsome. He had long eyelashes and light hair. He was smiling at my grandmother with an I’m-totally-in-love-with-you look. I sighed, realizing it had been a long time since someone had looked at me that way. I wondered why she had never mentioned him. I placed the photo next to the box.

“Hey, look at this.” Ian brushed off the top of a leather-bound book. It resembled a journal.

I reached for it before he could open it. “That’s Gigi’s. I don’t think you should read it.” Suddenly, I felt protective of her things. Daddy had entrusted them to me. Besides, I couldn’t imagine she would want her grandson reading her journal. There are limits to family sharing.

He raised his hands in defense. “Ok. Ok. You’re probably right. I don’t want to know any details about Leo.” He made a face. “I was hoping one of her spell books would be in here. I want to work on my
Locality Spell
. I was thinking of upping it a little.”

“Really? I thought it worked great.” Ian had been doing that spell for years. It was his trademark in our family.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I think I can do it without a personal object. I’m not exactly there yet, but I want to be.”

I was impressed. I didn’t know my brother was working on his practice. He seemed to take most things in life in stride and roll with it. Magic fit in that category.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I couldn’t do a
Locality Spell
unless Ian and I were connected, but I might be able to assist. Two witches were better than one.

“Yeah, tell me if Gigi mentions her spell book in those journals.” He pointed to the box. “I’ve asked Dad for them, but he doesn’t know where they are either.”

I looked at the boxes and my packed house. It would be awhile before I would have time to sit and read. “Sure, I’ll let you know when I get to it.”

I slid the picture with Leo into the front of the top journal and shut the box. “Close.” I tapped the cardboard. Even though I had sealed the box, there was something nagging at me that I should open it again and dig through all of the mementos. I walked to the foyer with the box. Curiosity was going to have to wait.

 

 

My new house was only a mile away from Southern Avenue. It wasn’t on a main street and it was inside a gated neighborhood. Those seemed to be the two most important elements. Martha called after our last appointment. A couple needed to sell quickly to take a position in England. I met her at the house, and an hour later, we signed the offer paperwork.

All the houses in the neighborhood had been renovated, some even flipped. My new home was built in the sixties, and I liked the vibe. It had a sunken living room and a second story for an office. It was the perfect place to write.

I stared out of my office window. I had been moved in for two weeks. Somehow, I had postponed the travel trip with Jack. I came up with multiple excuses; one included a fake stomach bug. I was getting desperate.

I paused before sipping my coffee. I thought if I could find my own story and start writing, I could dissuade him. I still hadn’t warmed up to the western. After several hours searching online articles, I had come up empty
again
. I closed my laptop and sighed. The Nashville trip was scheduled three days from now, and I was running out of ideas.

I watched Cooper chew on a tennis ball in the backyard. I did like that we had our own fence, and he had a place to run. The doggie door was awfully convenient. I stretched my legs. From the corner of my eye, I could see the last few boxes lined against the wall I hadn’t unpacked yet.

I opened the top one:
Masquerade
manuscript pages. I pulled the lid on the second one: printer paper. Then I saw the one on the bottom: Gigi’s box. I pulled it away from the wall and sat next to it.

I took a deep breath. It was one thing to be with Ian when I rummaged through her things the first time, but this felt different. There was no one else here. Just me. Just the box.

I remember the day my father gave it to me. It was after the funeral, and we were the only ones left at my grandmother’s house. I had offered to stay behind and clean up the kitchen. Mama escorted other family members back to her house. Funerals were exhausting, and I was glad to be in the quiet house with Daddy. We both needed the silence.

I opted out of using magic. There was something calming about letting the water run over the plates. I felt like I was doing something, accomplishing something small by cleaning cake frosting off china plates and rinsing wine glasses.

My father cleared his throat. “Sweetheart, I know this might seem like a strange time to do this.”

I pivoted on my high heels, placing a glass on the counter to dry. “What is it?”

My father held a box in his arms. He offered it to me.

“Before the rest of the family leaves town tomorrow, I know they are going to stop by and probably start going through Gigi’s things. But these…” He eyed the contents of the box. “Are for you. She wanted you to have them.”

My hands were wet from the dishes, but I grabbed the sides of the box. “I-I don’t think I can look at it right now.” I choked back tears. I wasn’t used to the idea that she was gone.

“You don’t have to right now.” He rested his hand on my shoulder. “But she asked that this box go to you.” His smile was warm.

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