Impractical Magic

Chapter 2-2

Even so, something about him didn’t feel right to her. The unknown man was watching the ceremony intently, but she noticed he sat as close to the end of the pew as possible, as if he wanted to keep away from his neighbors. Not that Jenny could really blame him, since a couple of squirmy kids who looked like they were around kindergarten age also occupied that pew, and were only separated from the stranger by an exasperated-looking mother.

But at least they weren’t so noisy that they interrupted the ceremony. Alex and Caitlin were so wrapped up in each other and the words they were saying that they probably wouldn’t have even noticed that kind of disruption, but, judging by the way Luz Trujillo’s dark gaze kept flicking toward the back of the church, the prima of that clan most definitely would notice, and would most likely would have had a few words with the mother about keeping her kids in line.

Jenny actually felt a little sorry for the little boy and girl, since she was sure they probably would have rather stayed home than sit through this interminable ceremony. Right then, she just wanted it to be over herself so she could get to the good part — the reception and all that lovely champagne. She figured she’d earned a glass or two. Or three or four.

But even though her feet were starting to hurt, and she worried that her stomach was going to growl at any second, she couldn’t help feeling moved when the priest proclaimed that Alex and Caitlin were now husband and wife. And the look in Alex’s dark eyes when he bent to kiss his new bride — well, it awoke a deep, hurtful ache in Jenny’s heart.

She wanted someone to look at her like that.

And then she couldn’t help feeling ashamed, because at least she was here, and not buried in a corner of the McAllister plot in the Cottonwood cemetery. Roslyn would never have anyone look at her the way Alex had looked at Caitlin. She’d never see the sun shine again, or watch the moon rise over the Mogollon Plateau to the east of town. She’d never have children, or grandchildren, would never again entrance an audience with the power of her beautiful voice.

All because of Matías Escobar.

The familiar burning ache of hate rose in her then, and Jenny forced herself to push it back down. She’d been over this same ground too many times during the last six months. All the hate in the world wouldn’t bring Roslyn back.

She managed to plaster a fake smile on her lips, since she knew that was what would be expected of her. And sometime during the hubbub of getting Caitlin and Alex out to their limo so they could have their photos taken and still make it to the reception area on time, that smile turned genuine. It was just too hard to see their obvious happiness and not respond.

Because Jenny had come down a day early to help with the preparations, she had her own car, giving her a spurious sense of freedom. Her younger brother Adam and his wife Mason had driven down with Jenny and Adam’s parents, since they knew parking was going to be tight. They were staying in the same hotel as Jenny, the place where the reception would be held, although on a different floor. Her parents had already made plans for all of them to go out to breakfast together the morning after the wedding.

Usually Jenny wouldn’t have minded, since she got along fine with her parents, and she liked her sister-in-law very much as well. Right then, though, the prospect of having to play happy family made her want to grind her teeth.

That’s the crappy part about being a witch, she thought. We all have these rigidly defined clans and these rigidly defined territories, and everyone’s supposed to play by the rules. You can’t just get in your car and keep driving and leave it all behind, no matter how much you might want to.

Well, except Angela’s mother. She’d kept driving and never looked back. Unfortunately, that hadn’t worked out so well for her in the end, dead in a motorcycle crash at twenty-two, leaving her infant daughter for Angela’s Aunt Rachel to raise.

Since the first set of photographs that would be taken at the reception site would include only the bride and groom, Jenny knew she had a little time before she had to drive over to the hotel, about fifteen minutes away. No rest for the wicked, though — she went through the church with a couple of the de la Paz cousins, helping to pick up any discarded programs and generally tidying things up before she was able to make her escape not quite half an hour later.

At least the hotel was close by. Jenny was able to grab one of the last parking spaces before hurrying over to the large event space where the reception was being held. Inside, the place felt packed — mostly because everyone seemed to be crammed into the bar area — but she managed to squeeze through the throng and make her way to the less crowded part of the room where everyone would sit down for dinner.

After a quick glance around, she determined that Alex and Caitlin were nowhere in sight, which meant they must still be off getting their pictures taken. Just as she turned, she almost bumped into the brown-haired stranger she’d spied earlier in the church.

He had a flute of champagne in either hand, and held one out to her. “Here,” he said, his voice as pleasant and friendly as his features. “You look like you could use this.”

“That bad, huh?” she responded, gratefully taking it from him.

“Well, you’re carrying it well, but I’ve been to too many weddings not to recognize the ‘I need a drink’ look common to maids of honor the world over.”

She couldn’t help chuckling at that remark. It didn’t stop her from taking a large swallow of the champagne. It hit her stomach with a flare of warmth and a welcome fizz. “Thank you.” Since he seemed nice, and she didn’t have any place she absolutely had to be in that moment, she added, “I’m Jenny McAllister.”

“I know,” he said, and she gave him a blank look.

“How? We haven’t met before, have we?”

“No.” He tapped the breast pocket of his dark gray blazer, where she could see one cream-colored edge of the wedding program peeking out. “I saw your name in here.”

“Ah.” She sipped some more champagne, and that gave her the courage to ask, “Friend of the groom?”

“In a manner of speaking. I was his T.A. at UA. I’m Colin Campbell.”

Something about the phrase made her want to laugh, but that could have been the champagne talking. But at least it explained why Colin seemed older and still could have known Alex. “Marketing?” she asked.

“No, journalism. He took a few classes but then switched over to communications and marketing. Probably smart of him.”

Colin’s tone was wry, compelling her to inquire, “Smart how?”

“Well, let’s just say it’s kind of challenging to be a journalist in the internet age. No one seems to think you should get paid for your work. Actually, I ended up getting out of it, too.”

“Oh.” She supposed she should have realized that, but frankly, the Verde Valley wasn’t exactly a hotbed of in-depth journalism. They had the Verde Valley Independent for the local stuff, but otherwise most people either watched TV or hit the web to get their information, depending on their generation and habits. “That’s too bad.”

“So what do you do?” he asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

Typical question for this sort of gathering, especially coming from a civilian who had no way of knowing that he was surrounded by witches and warlocks of various clans and talents. But it grated on Jenny, because she didn’t have a very good answer to that question. For a while she’d worked as a dispatcher for the police department down in Cottonwood, but that job hadn’t lasted very long. Even in a place as small as Cottonwood, she’d gotten more of a taste of the dark side of human nature than she’d really wanted, so she’d quit. Unfortunately, leaving the job hadn’t allowed her to escape reality’s darker aspects. No, they’d intruded on a bright March day last spring, when the phone call came to tell her that her little sister was dead.

Hoping he hadn’t noticed her hesitation, Jenny said, “Oh, a little bit of this and that. Lately I’ve been helping to run the art gallery downstairs.”

“‘Downstairs’?” he repeated, looking confused in an adorable sort of way.

“I’m from Jerome. Old buildings, apartments and flats on top of businesses. The business downstairs from me is an art gallery. And the owner is a ci — well, she lives in Scottsdale, so she wanted someone local to manage it for her.”

Colin drank some of his champagne, then said, “I visited Jerome about ten years ago. Cool place. You like living there?”

She shrugged. Did she like living there? She really didn’t have much of a basis for comparison. The former mining town had always been part of her life, along with its small, mixed population of witch-folk and civilians. Her clan was careful about who they allowed to live there, always choosing those who could be trusted to keep quiet about the powers their neighbors possessed but never talked openly about.

But getting the flat above the art gallery had been sort of a coup, since several of her cousins had cast covetous eyes upon it when it became available. Why the elders had decided Jenny should have it, she wasn’t quite sure, except maybe they had taken pity on her because she was nearing thirty and was still unattached, and so deserved to get something of a break. Anyway, it was a great space, with a bedroom and an office, and a front deck that overlooked Main Street and provided amazing views of the entire Verde Valley, all the way to Sedona’s red rocks. It was definitely something to sit on that deck and drink a glass of wine and watch the rocks turn redder and redder as the sun set.

“It’s fun,” she said. “Small. Everyone knows everyone else.”

“So is that a good thing or a bad thing?” he asked with a grin.

The light that danced in his hazel eyes was definitely something she could get used to. “I guess it depends on who you ask.”

“Well, what if I asked you?”

Was he flirting? It felt like he might be flirting. Jenny couldn’t say for sure, because she pretty much sucked at that sort of thing. But she decided she might as well go along for the ride. If nothing else, it was refreshing to be talking with someone who didn’t know anything about her or her background, or the sister she’d lost so tragically. “I’d say it’s a good thing some days and a bad thing on others.”

“Diplomatic. Or maybe evasive.”

“Realistic?”

“I’ll go for that.” He raised his champagne flute, and she clinked her glass against his, unable to suppress a smile. There was something infectious about the way his mouth quirked, not really smiling, but edging toward it.

It seemed the best thing to do was to drink some more champagne. There were probably a million things she should be doing right then, but it felt good to stand there and not-quite-flirt with a good-looking stranger. It wasn’t as if Alicia or Danica couldn’t handle something if Caitlin suddenly required one of her bridesmaids to be there for her.

But then Jenny heard her Aunt Tricia — Caitlin’s mother — calling for her, and she knew playtime was over.

“Duty calls,” she said, and looked around for a place to set down her champagne flute.

“I’ll take that,” Colin offered, plucking it out of her fingers. “Maybe I should hang on to it. You up for a second round later?”

He was going to stick around, wasn’t going to take off after he’d had a few free drinks. Something in her relaxed slightly.

“I’ll be around,” she said with a grin, and went off in search of her aunt.