Legacy (7 page)

Mercy
stole a look at
Greg
and he was smiling. He picked up his ch
eeseburger and took a big bite.

Mercy supposed this was the way it felt to have an official boyfriend. Her stomach was all jittery, but otherwise she was feeling pretty good.
So much for normal
.

She made arrangements to meet
Kelli
and Greg at
Felicity
’s house
after school
to study for the
s
ocial
s
tudies test.

“Don’t you need to call your grandmother to let her know we’re going to study together?”
Felicity
asked.

Mercy sucked in a deep breath. “Um, yes.”

Felicity
offered her cell phone and Mercy faked a phone call to Gran.

“Tell her
I
can drive you home,” Greg offered.

Mercy conveyed this information to the imaginary
grandmother
on the other end of the line and ended the call. “We’re good.” She handed the phone back to
Felicity
, feeling uncomfortable with her charade. Lying was not her strong point
, but she seemed to be
practicing this skill more often
.

After school
Felicity
stuffed the cello in the rear
seat
and
climbed in
beside
Kelli
in the front. Mercy
rode with
Greg in
his car, listening to
music
as they followed
Kelli
to her house
.

She still didn’t feel at ease with her new relationship with Greg, but he seemed to be okay with it.
He
took a left turn and Mercy leaned against
hi
s shoulder, then a quick right and she was slammed against
the door.
Ahead of them,
Kelli
swerv
ed into her driveway
, then
killed
the ignition
and climbed out.
“Last stop,” she called cheerily.

Felicity
jumped
from
Kelli
’s
car
and retrieved her cello while Mer
cy
and Greg
emerg
ed
from his
and sorted out their book bags. Greg gave her a little smile before trekking after
Felicity
into the house.

~*~

Mrs.
Porter
ordered pizza and they took a break to eat
before returning to their studies.
Kelli
lived two doors down from
Felicity
, so she gathered her books and took off f
irs
t.

“Do you need a ride home, Mercy,” Mrs. Porter ask
ed.

“No,
m
a’am,”
Greg
answered for her. “I’m going to drop her off at her house.” He
picked up Mercy’s backpac
k and motioned toward the door.

They st
epped
outside
on
to
the porch. It was a nice night. Not too hot. Not too humid. Cicadas ma
de
their weird
buzz
ing
noises and lightning bugs flickered on and off.

“So, are you ready for the test tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so.” The night air felt cool on her
skin
. She tilted her face up to the sky and gazed up at a zillion stars twinkling down at her. She thought how it must feel to be an astronaut soaring so far above the earth, and then realized that was still just a fraction of the vastness out there. “There are so many things I don’t know.”

“Like what? You nailed all the study questions.”

“No, I mean, there are so many mysteries in the universe. I wish I knew more.”

He grinned at her. “I didn’t know you were interested in that stuff.”

“I’m interested in everything.” She turned to face him. “I wish I could be one of those people who say, ‘I want to be a nurse, or a doctor or a bak
er.’ I don’t know what I want.”

“I want to play baseball.” He shrugged. “Just go with what you’re good at.”

“Not sure what that is.”
What I do NOT want to be is a witch
.

He opened
the
car door for her
and she slipped onto the seat
.
He turned the key in the ignition and pulled out into the street.

They were silent the rest of the way to her home.
When he pulled onto her street, she realized that the lights were off at her house. It looked like no one was home. How could she explain her grandmother's ab
sence if he asked her about it?

She began a barrage of chatter, hoping to distract him. "I hope you're prepared for the test tomorrow. We studied everything. Is there anything you can think of that we didn't prepare for?"

He glanced at her quizzically. "Can't think of anything, but I guess we'll find out tomorrow." "
When the car stopped, she insisted that she could walk up to the door by herself. In one corner of her brain, she realized that Greg was disappointed. In another, she thought maybe he had planned to kiss her. She bounded up to the front and turned to wave brightly. “See you tomorrow,” she called before she ducked inside.

Mercy dropped her book bag by the door and leaned back against it. All she had wanted was one normal d
ay.

This wasn’t it.

~*~

The next day sped by. Mercy
was certain
she had aced the test. She knew all
t
he answers and the essay question was a no-brainer. She handed her test pape
rs in and returned to her seat.

Lindy made a face at her when she
passed her seat. “
Brainiac
”, she said under her breath and s
tuck her foot out in the aisle.

Mercy stumbled and caught herself before she fell. She
glanced around
to meet Lindy’s self-satisfied expression
.
Go away. Just take your
gruesome
face someplace else.
Mercy didn’t like the way Lindy was able to upset her. Like she could ruin Mercy’s whole day with a single sneer. She lifted her chin and straightened her spine.
I will not let you affect me. Go away
vicious
girl!

When class was over, she met up with
Felicity
in the hall. They hung back a little and
Kelli
came out to join them.
“Lindy alert! Lindy alert!”

“What does that mean,”
Felicity
asked. “Is she
riding her broom, or something?”

Mercy’s gut squeezed. She wondered if she would be required to ride a broom.
Gah! What a scary thought. Guess I'll
have to open th
at damned
handbook
again
.

“No,”
Kelli
said. “She’s got Greg trapped in there and she’s doing her gooey eyes thing.”

“Gooey eyes?”
Felicity
giggled behind her hands.

Kelli
rolled her own eyes. “You know, she’s acting all soft and girlie, twirling her hair and looking at Greg all gooey-eyed.”

“Oh!” Mercy turned toward the classroom, but stopped. She didn’t know what she would say if she g
ot up the nerve to go in there.

“Don’t worry,”
Kelli
said.  “Greg is being cool. He’s just being Greg.”

Mercy nodded, unable to speak.

“You know…”
Kelli
shrugged. “Nice. Greg is a nice guy.”

“Yeah, he is.” She could breathe now. “He is.”

Greg came out of the classroom with his backpack slung over one shoulder. He grinned when he saw her and extended his free hand.
"Thanks for waiting for me."

Mercy reached to take it, and when he grasped her hand, she was filled with a warm, safe feeling. She glanced back and met the narrowed gaze of Lindy, standing in the doorway of the classroom
. T
his time, t
he hate waves bounced off her because Greg was holding her hand.

~*~

At the house, Mercy slung her backpack on the floor near the door. It was the weekend and she didn’t have homework…at least not at school.
She eyed the handbook sitting conspicuously in the center of the
table. “Okay, okay,” she said.

She went to the kitchen to
forage for
a snack and was surprised to find a loaf of fresh baked bread sitting on the counter. A jar of her grandmother’s strawberry preserves
and a jar of peanut but
ter were lined up side-by-side.

Her pulse quickened.
Gran! She’s home!

She checked the house, but Alistair was the only other inhabitant.
Outside. She’s got to be in the garden.
Mercy rushed out the back door, expecting to find her grandmother picking beans or plucking tomatoes from their vines. Her heart sank in her chest when she scanned the yard and saw that she was alone. She walked up and down the rows,
between the
green beans and t
he ripening
tomato
plants. She paused beneath the peach
tree
, listening for any sound
,
but only the buzz of the bees and chirp of birds overhead responded to her silent plea
. Mercy blinked away the tears that gathered.
Where is my grandmother? Why did she leave me?

She cast a last glance over her shoulder before going back inside. She rinsed
her face and hands with cool water and dried them on one of Gran's tea towels
. Then
she
made a sandwich
, spreading peanut butter and jelly on
the fresh bread. As soon as she tasted the bread, she knew her grandmother had made it. The familiar flavor of peanut butter and Gran’s homemade strawberry preserves gave her momentary comfort. But if Gran had come home to
bake bread, where was she now?

When she had finished her snack, she wandered to the table and leafed through the pages of the handbook. She was surprised to see that only two chapters had writing on the pages. The rest were blank. The first chapter was an introduction and the next was on divining, the lesson she had missed. With resignation she settled at the table and began
to read the introduction.

“Yeah, yeah. I know I’m a witch.” She read that this condition ran in families and that, in order to live up to her full potential; she must apply herself to her lessons. She nodded, unconsciously committing to the process. Her untapped potential was on the line. She
skimme
d the introduction and went on to read the first chapter. She had heard a little of the lesson on divination and understood that it involved some sort of ability to foresee events
or to determine something from an object. She thought of the medallion hanging from Alistair’s collar. She should try communicating with him again. He certainly knew more than he was saying.

When she had read the chapters, she closed the book, feeling that she might know just a tiny bit of what was in store for her. She would be much more confident if Gran was here to guide her. The entire weekend stretched before her and sh
e hadn’t a clue how to fill it.

It was just getting dark when she decided to check her grandmother’s mirror. She felt drawn to it for some reason she couldn’t explain. She intended to turn on a small lamp
,
but
Alistair brushed against her leg. She leane
d down to lift him in her arms.

“Hello, Alistair.” She stroked him and took the medallion between her thumb and fore
finger. It warmed at her touch.

“The candle, my dear. Light the candle.”

She frowned. “Candle?”

“The candle that my beloved Lavinia left for you.”

Mercy turned and noticed
for the first time,
a fat, purple candle sitting on a saucer on one side of the
bureau
. She
touched its waxy surface and the scent of lilacs released into the air. Inhaling deeply, she visualized a spring day with lilacs blooming in the arbor.
She found the matches and lit the
wick
. A soft glow filled the corner and bathed the mirror with light.
She noticed that a layer of dust coated the surface of the glass
and felt a pang of remorse for letting
grime
settle on the mirror that her gran
dmother
prized.