I stopped, mid-staircase, ready to retort, when I noticed her hair. It was still brown and shoulder length, but large pieces of it stuck out in horizontal corkscrews around her thin face. Her square-framed gla.s.ses perched atop her small nose only added to the comical effect. I quickly forgot my annoyance and laughed.

"What's so funny?" she asked, scratching her head as she leaned up against the wall.

"What happened to your hair? You look like a wet owl." I resumed my walk down the staircase. "Say, Ruth Anne, how many licks does it take to get to the center...?"

"Shut it."

"Sorry to ruffle your feathers."

"I said shut it."

"If writing doesn't work out for you, there's always mascot work."

"Fine. I look ridiculous. I let Merry perm my hair while you were napping but chickened out halfway through the process." She pulled on one of the corkscrews and it boinged back against her head. "That bad, huh?"

"You can always wear a hat," I suggested. "Or just lay low in your nest."

"Geez, I thought people were supposed to get nicer after a near-death experience."

"Sorry," I said, still laughing. "Everything's funny to me right now. I think Merry may have laced my tea."

"I most certainly did." Merry extended a hand as I made it to the bottom step. "And if you think wet owls are funny, wait a few minutes. There will be pink dinosaurs and green elephants on parade."

"I'm doubly glad to be out of Mother's room then. Who knows what I would have seen there?"

"Maybe Mom's ghost," Ruth Anne winked.

"Or Juliana's," Merry added.

"No chance of any hot cabana boys turning up in my hallucinations then?"

Merry smiled. "Trust me, if my tea could do that, I never would have married Frank."

They each took an arm and escorted me to the sofa, now made up into a bed with several down comforters and another heap of pillows. A fat orange cat sat on the couch, purring as I approached.

"Maggie Cat!" I reached down to pet my namesake and he licked my hands affectionately.

"He's been holding vigil for you," Merry said, shooing him off the sofa. "Waiting outside the bedroom."

"I didn't know he liked me that much."

My cat settled himself on the recliner across from me.

"Animals are very intuitive. And like it or not, he's chosen you. If something happens to you, something happens to him."

"Just what I need, more responsibilities."

"It's not all bad. Familiars lend you their energy. His presence may have helped pull you through."

I looked into Maggie Cat's eyes. He stared back then blinked once, very slowly, before curling up into a purring ball of fur.

The television had been wheeled out on an ancient cart with four cracked wheels. The TV itself was nearly as old, with a manual dial that only went up to the number thirteen and a foiled coat hanger for an antenna. I had offered to pay for a new one with the money I received from selling Woodhaven, but Merry insisted that this one was fine, thank you very much.

"Yay!" I said, burrowing myself beneath the layers of blankets. Ruth Anne turned on s...o...b.. Doo and I relaxed into the sofa that had graced our living room since before we were born.

"You two know me so well."

Ruth Anne turned down the volume. "When can I go home?" I asked, trying to resist another bout of drowsiness while Merry adjusted the rabbit ears.

"You are home," Merry said.

"You know what I mean."

We were at Sister House, the place where we had grown up, but I had recently taken up residence with Aunt Dora at Harvest Home and had begun negotiations to purchase the property. I hoped to turn it into a bed and breakfast once the baby was born. Sister House held too many memories, locked within its photos and its walls. I wanted to bring my child into a world that I created, not one that had been created for me.

"We'll take you there as soon as you are strong enough," Merry answered.

"I can drive myself soon," I said. I had a car now and was anxious to use it.

"Umm..." Merry bit her lip.

"What?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, but the car is gone."

"Gone? As in 'Poof!' it disappeared? Or gone as in, 'bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do' it got stolen?"

"Gone as in we took it back to Leo's mother."

"But that was my car! Leo gave it to me."

Ruth Anne's lips slid into a sideways smile. "Merry detected some negative energy on it and we wondered if that had anything to do with your... condition. So we took it back in the middle of the night and left it at her curb."

"Great. I guess I won't be driving myself home." Then a thought came to me as my eyelids struggled to stay open. "Does Aunt Dora know I'm okay?"

Aunt Dora was a tough old bird but she had a weakness for her nieces. She never had children of her own, claiming we were her kids. She worried over us more than our own mother ever had. I could almost see her at her kitchen table, putting up protection spells and wringing her hands.

"Yes, we called her. She wanted to come but her hip is bothering her. She sends her love."

"Thank you." I yawned, pressing my face into a soft pillow that smelled like lavender and roses. My mother's scents. "I'm ready to sleep in my own bed again."

"You will."

Merry closed the heavy curtains of the large front window, blocking out the sunlight. The room was now pleasantly dark. "We'll keep you here for another day or two, alright? Aunt Dora isn't up to caring for you yet."

"Okay." I felt guilty knowing that Aunt Dora worried about me, and even guiltier that there was nothing I could do to help her at the moment.

"What about Shane?" I asked, my voice fading. "Did you call Shane yet?"

Merry pressed her lips together but didn't speak.

"What's wrong? Is Shane okay?"

Ruth Anne placed one hand on the TV cart and removed her gla.s.ses with the other. "There was a fire at Dip Stix, Mags."

"A fire?" I tried to pull myself to a sitting position but my arms failed me.

"He's fine," Ruth Anne rea.s.sured me. "But there was damage to the building."

Dip Stix was Shane's restaurant, a quaint establishment built over forty years ago by Shane's Uncle Joe. It was as much of a town landmark as our mother's magick store.

"It's smoke damage, mostly," Merry said. "He's been working hard to get it back in shape."

I rubbed the sides of my temples, trying to process it. If it wasn't that bad, why wasn't he here with me?

"He's been checking on you every chance he gets," Merry added, sensing my distress. "That poor guy. I don't think he's had an hour of sleep in the last three weeks."

"Does he know I'm up?"

"Yes. I just talked to him. He wanted to speak to you but I told him you're pretty drugged up. He'll be by tonight or early tomorrow. He knows you're in good hands." Merry kissed me on the cheek and pulled the blanket up to my chin. "Now, get some sleep. Ruth Anne and I will be here the whole time, okay?"

"Okay," I reluctantly agreed. I still hadn't bathed and I probably looked worse than I smelled. At least I'd get a chance to clean up before I saw him. As Merry finished tucking me in, I asked, "Do you believe in predestination?"

"To an extent. Why?"

"Do you think we are born good or bad? Or is that something we choose?"

She thought for a moment. "I believe that all children are born innocent. Who we become is a matter of free will."

"That's good," I said sleepily. I knew that I had made some poor choices in life, but as long as I had free will, I had the chance to right some of my wrongs.

I closed my eyes and ignored the beckoning black door with the crystal k.n.o.b that sparkled in my mind's eye.

A strong hand brushed my cheek, bringing me back from my dreams.

They weren't good dreams. Dark shadows swirled around a white sphere, like a yin-yang symbol that had become unraveled. Even so, dreams meant that I was still a part of this world, and not in that s.p.a.ce between. For that reason alone, I was sorry to leave them.

"Maggie, can you open your eyes?"

It was Ruth Anne. I yawned, brushing away her hand. "What time is it?"

"Five-thirty."

"Morning or night?"

"Night. We're getting ready for dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes you are. You've slept nearly twenty-four hours. Now get up. We have more surprises for you."

I grunted, then sat up on the living room couch, happy to find that my head had cleared from the hallucinogenic effects of Merry's tea.

Maggie Cat purred easily near my feet, lost in his own dreams. I wondered briefly what cats dreamed about. Food? Other cats? Or maybe more quiet evening naps? Feeling movement, he opened one eye, then the other, issued a soft meow and fell back asleep.

"You're right, I am hungry. Ravenous actually." I climbed out from beneath the mountain of blankets and sheets, careful not to jostle Maggie Cat and noticing that the bottom layer of my bedding was damp with perspiration. "I could use a shower too," I said, smelling the acrid scent of my sweat.

I crinkled my brow as a new question came to mind. "How did I eat when...?"

"Magick." Ruth Anne winked. "And tons of Aunt Dora's and Merry's teas, loaded with nutrients."

"I actually drank it?"

"Yes, but not very well. So, are you ready for your next surprise?"

"Is it food?"

"Not yet."

"Is it Shane? Is he here?"

"No. But he came by this morning and left you those flowers." She pointed to a vase near the window, filled with fresh lilacs, loosely arranged. He had probably picked them himself. I smiled, wishing I had seen him, but taking comfort in knowing that he had checked on me.

"Can we do this later? I want to walk and stretch a little. I feel like the tin man before Dorothy shows up."

"Trust me, you'll get a kick out of this one." She handed me a fluffy white robe and I put it on.

Ruth Anne strode to the front door, gave me a toothy grin, and pulled it open. There, standing in the doorway, dressed in a lime green track suit and carrying a stack of books, was Michael, my ex-lover and the father of my unborn child.

"What the h.e.l.l is he doing here?" I demanded, tying an extra knot in the belt of my robe.

Michael pushed past Ruth Anne and stormed inside, kneeling beside me and setting the books on the floor. Without asking, he placed a hand on my belly and closed his eyes. Maggie Cat arched his back, hissed, and ran out the front door.

"Thank G.o.d you're alright," he said, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me into his chest. I wasn't strong enough to push him away so I screamed in his ear instead. The light on the end table flickered, reacting to my distress. Before I could scream again, Merry emerged from the kitchen, wearing one of Mother's old ap.r.o.ns.

"I told you to let her sleep!" She scolded Michael as she peeled him away by the elbow. "Sorry Mags. We thought we'd break it to you gently. He's been in town a few days now."

"Try a few weeks," Ruth Anne countered. Then, holding out a hand, she added, "And don't get mad at us. He was pretty determined to get to you. I even threw a stick out, but he wouldn't fetch."

I turned to face Michael, who was grinning like a love-struck hyena. "Why are you here?"

"You told me I could come."

I grabbed a pillow and laid it across my lap as a makeshift chast.i.ty belt. "I said you could come for the baby's birth. Do I look like I'm in labor to you?"

Michael eyed my belly protruding over the top of the pillow. "You look like a turkey in the oven, right before it pops."

I looked around for something to throw and settled on one of Ruth Anne's flip flops. It missed him altogether but hit a vase, nearly knocking it over.