Witches in Flight by Debora Geary Page A

Perhaps
something moves in Elsie’s life that we are not aware of, and her nighttime
escapades are not the source of concern.  
    I’m glad that, for now, Vero can help Elsie to enjoy spreading
her new wings.   I imagine your wife
understands the draw of slightly clandestine romance better than any of
us.   And one day, I expect the full
story of how she ended up in the arms of a quiet accountant.   I know—much of the story is the
stuff of Witch Central legend.   But
the photographer in me says there’s more.
    Which is nicely distracting me from worries about Elsie.   Let Vero play in the sky with her.   The rest of us can hold the corners of
the safety net.   She won’t be the
first witch traveling in such a formation.   We’re good at being both roots and wings.
    Caro apparently got a visit from a highly frazzled Lizard
today—with Bean in her arms and Josh Hennessey on her heels.   Which seems like a whole lot of
domestic bliss for our poet fairy, and pretty much guaranteed to make her
squirm, if the knitting ladies haven’t already accomplished that.
    I wonder if she knows yet how much her heart yearns—or how
much his does.   And how little
anything else truly matters.
    Jennie
    ~ ~ ~
    Caro walked over to the other side of her townhouse, homemade
baguette in one hand, fresh butter in the other.   Time to have a chat with an unhappy witch.
    She squatted down, juggling bread and butter, to snip off some
oregano—and smiled as the door behind her opened.   Lizard might use her mind talents more
for blocking than for listening, but she usually heard you coming.   “Afternoon.   Just made butter—thought you might like some.”
    Lizard’s eyes were wary.   “Witches don’t just accidentally drop by.   What’s up?”
    Caro sighed.   Witches dropped by all the time—Lizard just hadn’t gotten much of
a taste of uncomplicated friendship yet.   Too much meddling.
    Well, she wasn’t here to meddle.   Exactly.
    But since the girl wasn’t at all stupid, she’d probably best
start by being honest.   “Heard you
crashing around over here, all tangled up.”   She   stood and handed
the snipped oregano to Lizard.   “Seems like the young man who followed you into my store earlier today
might have something to do with it.”
    For a guy in a yarn store, Josh Hennessey had seemed right at
home.   He had even charmed Marion,
which was a pretty impressive feat for any male over the age of two.
    “I don’t want to talk about him.”   Lizard’s mind shrouded.   “I’m not Elsie, searching for some guy with strong arms to
replace the father who took off.”
    It was a pretty astute summary, and exactly what had Caro
worried, but Elsie wasn’t the witch she’d come to talk about.   She leaned over for some chives to add
to the oregano.   “You’re
smart.   And you keep your eyes open
and watch a lot, just like me.”
    “I have eyes.”   Lizard squirmed, dismissing the compliments like she always did.   “I don’t need a guy.”
    “Got that part.”   Caro balanced the chives on top of the butter and walked up Lizard’s
steps.   Sometimes you had to create
your own invitation.   “I don’t need
yarn, either, but my life’s a lot happier for having it around.”
    Lizard snorted.   “You’re totally addicted to your yarn.”
    Okay, perhaps not the best of examples.   “I’m not much for beating around the
bush, so I’m just going to say what I came to say, and then you can decide
whether you want to share my bread or not.”
    “Fine.”   Lizard sat
down on a stool and looked about as friendly as the guy behind the counter at
the post office.
    Caro fiddled with the fresh herbs, trying to line up her
thoughts.   She picked up a handful
of flour, letting it sift through her fingers.   “Bread’s just flour and water and yeast and salt.   You can fancify it with other things,
but at the end of the day, it’s just those four things.”
    Lizard’s lips quirked.