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Mercedes squeezed shut the little baggie of crackers and tucked them into her daughter’s lunchbox before snapping it closed.
“Morgan, are you ready to go? The bus is going to be here any minute. We have to get out there.”
“I’m coming Mama,” the six-year-old called from the bathroom. “Just my braid was being wiggly.”
“Let me see.” Mercedes bustled around behind her daughter, stuffing the lunchbox into the purple backpack that Morgan had already put on, and zipping it up. Morgan’s usually pink aura was streaked with flecks of grey, showing her distress. Mercedes reached for her daughter’s hair and fixed the band holding the end of one braid. “You just needed it tighter dear, now, c’mon, you’re going to be late. Do you have your amulet on?”
Morgan nodded, smiling and all pink again. She obediently lifting her necklace to show her mother that she was, in fact, wearing the tiger's eye stone Mercedes had covered with protective charms.
“Good, good, now go!” Mercedes hurried Morgan out the door, just in time to get her on the bus for her first day of school. Then Mercedes hurried off to work.
-----
Mercedes was employed at a small florist shop downtown. She knew perfectly well that it was generally frowned upon to mix magic and work, but she couldn’t really help it, and this was the safest way she could think of. So what if most of the “get well soon” arrangements had healing charms woven into them? Or what if the “I’m sorry” bouquets carried a little extra something that helped the receiver know it was genuine (if it was--and she could always tell by the aura of the person who ordered it). It was never strong enough to upset the delicate balance of the universe--Mercedes knew better than to mess with that. It was just tiny things that helped enhance what the flowers were already intended to do.
Not many people knew that Mercedes was a witch. It just wasn’t something she talked about. She knew that there were other witches out there because sometimes she passed one on the street they would recognize one another by the purple hue of their auras and give each other a polite nod before moving on. But that was the nature of being a solitary witch: she didn’t have meetings with other magic-users. She just did her own thing in her own way and kept it to herself.
Then again, being a simple hearth witch wasn’t something that stood out that much anyway. Mercedes grew herbs on her kitchen windowsill, but so did several of her neighbors (they just used them for cooking, and she...didn’t). She lit candles several times a week, but what’s weird about that? Everyone likes a pretty candle, even if most of them don’t sit and meditate or whisper while staring into them. She and her daughter both wore necklaces with polished stone charms on them, but the average person wouldn’t know that the stones had natural protective properties, or that Mercedes had smudged them with sage and spoken protective incantations over them (just in case) before they wore them.
Seeing auras was, well, it was just part of the deal. Once a person became attuned to the magic energies in the universe they started to be able to see energies of all kinds. For Mercedes, the pale colored glow around a person was just another part of them, like their hairstyle or fashion choices. Being able to see the type of energy that a person exuded did give her insight into their personality and feelings, but it wasn’t like it gave her the ability to read their mind. It just helped her be...sensitive.
-----
“Mama, Mama,” Morgan exclaimed as she hopped off the bus and thrust a paper into Mercedes’ face. “There’s an open house at the school tomorrow, so you can come and meet my teachers.”
“I already met your teacher,” Mercedes reminded her, taking the paper in one hand and grasping her daughter’s palm with the other so they could cross the street to go home.
“But you didn’t meet the music teacher, or Mrs. Susan in the library.”
“No, I didn’t meet them.”
“Can we go Mama? I want to go.”
Mercedes smiled at her daughter. “Of course we can go.”
-----
Back to School Night was spectacularly dull. Morgan eagerly dragged her mother from one place to another, and Mercedes was happy to shake hands with each of the new people she was meeting, but there was not enough time to really talk to any of them. Not to mention that it was only a week into the school year and so there wasn’t much to discuss yet anyway.
There was ice cream in the cafeteria at the end of the evening, and Mercedes had promised Morgan that they could stay long enough for that, so they did. They were settling in with their paper bowls and plastic spoons, watching the milling crowd (which appeared to Mercedes as an ever-pulsing rainbow) when Morgan started bouncing in her seat and her aura flashed brighter pink in excitement.
“Mama, Mama, that’s my friend Spencer from my class. Can I go say hi to him?” Morgan pointed over to a blond boy who had just gotten to the end of the serving table and was looking around the crowded room with a blank expression.
“Sure, why don’t you invite him to come sit by us? There’s room at this table.”
“Ok!” Morgan bounded off, and soon returned with the blond boy--and a taller sandy-haired man who could only be Spencer’s father--in tow. The boy’s aura was a perky, bright golden color, and the man’s was a pale, muted blue-green.
“Hi, I’m Mercedes,” she introduced herself. “I’m Morgan’s mom.”
“Sam; nice to meet you,” the man said, settling in across from her. He glanced at the two kids next to them who had already gotten into an intense conversation about the book the librarian had read them this week. “So, it looks like our kids are already best friends,” he said conversationally before putting an enormous spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.
Mercedes nodded. “It looks that way.” She smiled to fill the silence. Small talk was always a little awkward for her. It’s one thing to be able to read a person’s energy; it’s another thing entirely to know what to say to them in any given moment.
“I’m really glad Spencer’s mom was cool about me being the one to come to this,” Sam continued blithely. “His mom usually handles most of the school stuff, but I want to be involved too, ya know?”
“Of course,” Mercedes nodded again. At least this Sam guy was friendly.
“It’s been really hard since we separated. We used to do everything together, but now she has a new boyfriend and he doesn’t like me, so…” He shrugged, and she saw his aura take a red tinge on the edge for just a moment before it returned to its mellow pastel shade.
“I’m sorry,” Mercedes said. That was definitely more information than she’d have expected from someone she met two minutes ago, but obviously it was something that affected him deeply, so she wasn’t about to tell him to keep it to himself.
“Anyway, how about you?”
Mercedes hadn’t planned to bare her soul to a near-stranger, but it seemed like she should say something. “Oh, Morgan’s dad was out of the picture a long time ago,” Mercedes explained. “It’s just us girls.”
“Hey Mom!” Morgan interrupted them. “Can Spencer come over to play sometime?”
Mercedes looked questioningly at Sam. “It’s ok with me if it’s ok with you…”
“Yeah, that would be great!” Sam beamed. “Let me get your number!”
-----
It was a couple of weeks before the playdate actually happened, but when it did, Mercedes was pleased to see that Spencer was a kind child and a good friend to Morgan. They collected pine cones in the backyard and built a tower with them before Mercedes invited them in for lemonade and thumbprint cookies.
“Are you having fun?” she asked Spencer.
He nodded enthusiastically, shoving most of a cookie into his mouth and then wiping the crumbs off of his face with his sleeve.
Mercedes smiled to herself, noting the resemblance between the boy and his (admittedly very attractive) father. She reached over and patted his shoulder fondly. “We’ll have to have you come other other times then.”
“Yes,” Morgan agreed. “Me and Spencer are best friends so we should play a lot.”
Mercedes nodded good-naturedly and was turning to go to the kitchen when she noticed something that made her breath catch: Spencer’s aura had developed a pale lavender ring.
-----
“I need to talk with you about something,” Mercedes explained to Sam when he came to pick up his son that evening. The kids were in Morgan’s bedroom and she hadn’t called them to come out yet.
“Oh no, did something happen? Did he streak? Because I keep telling him--”
“No,” Mercedes rushed to assure him. “Spencer was great. But I noticed something today that you may not be aware of, but that you should know.”
Sam looked confused.
Mercedes took a deep breath. “Your son has magic.”
“Wha?” Sam squinted at her. “What, like Harry Potter or something?”
Mercedes laughed. “Um, not exactly, but yes?”
“Those stories aren’t real,” he whispered loudly, still looking confused but apparently a little more open-minded than she had feared he might be. That was a good sign (as was the fact that his aura was maintaining its normal gentle turquoise) so she plunged ahead.
“No, they’re not real. And they’re not accurate either. But magic is real, and I can see it, and I saw it in Spencer today.”
Sam looked back and forth around the room, as if trying to see something out of the ordinary, but the only visible representations of Mercedes’ magic were the candles across the mantle, and the row of herbs growing on her kitchen windowsill. Mercedes watched as threads of muddy brown confusion meandered through his aura.
“What are you talking about?” he finally asked.
“Well, there is magic in the world, and some people can see it and some cannot, and some people can use it and some cannot. Most of the time people don’t know about their own abilities unless they are exposed to magic somehow--and even then unless they have a guide or mentor they may not know what to do with it. It can be very confusing.”
“And you’re telling me that Spencer has magic.”
She nodded.
“And you know this because?”
Mercedes lifted her chin and looked Sam right in the eye.
“...because you have magic too. Right.” Sam ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the ceiling with a sigh. A slight red tinge was rising along his edges and she knew this wasn’t going well.
“Sam,” she instinctively reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away.
“This is kind of a lot, Mercedes. I mean, I barely know you, and you’re telling me that my kid has magic and that, oh, by the way, you’re a witch so I should bring him to you for, what, magical training or something?”
“I didn’t say--”
“Do you know any other witches in the area?” Sam asked pointedly.
“No,” she paused. “I’m not trying to tell you how to raise your son. I just wanted you to be aware that at some point he’s going to start seeing things you can’t see, or asking questions that you might not be able to answer. And I wanted you to know why. So that you can be prepared.”
“Prepared…” he echoed.
“And to tell you that I’m here to help. If you want me.”
“Right, ok, well, thanks. We need to go though, I’m supposed to have him to his mom’s by five.” Sam made it clear that he was ready for a new subject, and Mercedes didn’t push it.
-----
Mercedes’ life continued without interruption or excitement for the next few months. She went to work every day and came home to her daughter at night. They watched movies and baked pies and talked about school. Morgan mentioned Spencer now and then, but every time Mercedes tried to set up a playdate Sam didn’t return her texts or messages.
Samhain came and went, and so did Winter Solstice. The snow was melting and Spring was well on its way when the call finally came.
“Hello?” Mercedes answered distractedly, hardly even glancing at the caller ID because she was in the middle of kneading sweet bread and had flour everywhere.
“Hi, it’s Sam.”
“Oh, hello…” she was tentative, not sure of how to proceed next. Phone conversations were much harder than in-person ones because she couldn’t watch the other person’s aura colors shift to judge how they were reacting to her.
“Look, I was kind of abrupt with you the last time we talked. And I know that you know that I’ve been ignoring when you call.”
“Sam, I--”
“No, it’s ok, I have been,” he repeated. “Because the things you said to me, they were unsettling, you know?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Mercedes hummed supportively, not wanting to say too much until she knew where this was going.”
“And they were totally weird too, and I didn’t want to believe them so I pushed them away. Just like I pushed you away. And I kept Spencer away from his best friend…”
“Sam,” Mercedes tried again, but he kept going.
“And I’m sorry. Can we try again?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Spencer has been asking about a playdate with Morgan. I’d like to do that, and if it’s ok.”
“Oh, yes, definitely. Morgan would really like that.”
She heard Sam take a deep breath. “And while they are playing, I’d like to spend some time with you, if that’s ok. Ask you some questions, but also get to know you a little better.”
“Sure,” she heard herself say. “Of course.”
After she hung up the phone she stood and stared at it for a while, lost in thought. Of course she had hoped that Sam would call her back, but after all this time she hadn’t really expected him to. So now that he had, she wasn’t sure how to react. Absentmindedly she wiped her arm across her face, leaving a wide swath of flour there and then rolling her eyes as she realized what she had done.
Oh well, there was nothing to do now but finish the sweet bread, and wait for tomorrow.
-----
Once Morgan and Spencer were happily off playing, Mercedes sat at the kitchen table and invited Sam to sit as well.
“So,” she said, nudging a plate of sweets toward him.
“Yeah.” He ran his hands through his hair and took a cookie. “Thanks.”
He munched silently for a few moments, and gulped noisily. “I guess we’re going to be seeing a bit more of each other now.”
Mercedes rushed to reassure him. “Only if you’re ok with--”
Sam reached out and caught her hand, startling her. With a sharp intake of breath she looked up and found him staring at her intently.
“Sam?”
“Mercedes, my son need someone like you to mentor him. And I--” he hesitated briefly. “As confused as I am about all of that , I’m not confused about the fact that I’d like to get to know you better.”
Mercedes watched a ring of warm pinky-red pulse through his aura, and knew that he was speaking out of genuine interest.
She squeezed his hand softly. “I’d like that too.”