Page 3 of Counting Quarters

Reality hit me in the face on my eighteenth birthday when I finally built up the nerve to ask her about him. I’d never forget the look of pity that crossed her face as she repeated the same words she had said to me the first time I’d ever asked. That she truly had no idea who he was and at this point, probably couldn't even pick him out of a police lineup if she had to.

I planned to do things differently for my future children.

My mom noticed my legs bouncing as well. She placed a soft hand on my arm in an attempt to comfort me, effectively bringing my thoughts back to the present.

“We have something pretty serious to talk with you about.”

“Okay.” I blew out a breath.

They jumped right in, going over the history of the Granger family as it was written in the books they kept stored away in Grammy’s office. The books I had always been forbidden from reading. And none of it was what I’d been told while growing up.

Grammy slowly explained that the Grangers were one of the original thirteen founding families of Beacon Grove and the Watchtower coven. We were gifted the ability to control all four elements.

They called us the Center.

Over time, as Quarter families grew greedy and the other original families were being hunted and culled, the Grangers were forced to lie and hide their gifts, claiming the gods ended their powers to feed the Quarters. Naturally, the coven resented them and practically pushed them out, deeming them unworthy of the title.

Since then, they've been forced to hold their power in secret, as the fear of being discovered was far worse than any alternative. If it weren't for the fact that we were also the town's midwives, we would have been cast out altogether.

“If the gift is passed down through the Granger bloodline, does that mean Mom is the one who currently possesses it?”

“That's where things get a little weird. It seems like the gift may have skipped a generation. It very well could have skipped yours as well. There's no way to know,” my mother replied.

My eyes swung to Grammy, whose lips were pursed like she was holding something back.

It explained so much.

“So, you're still in possession of it?”

I thought back to what Storie had told me about the other Quarters and their father's refusal to hand off their gifts when their sons came of age. Had Grammy done the same thing to Mom?

Mom answered for her. “Yes and no. Our gifts don't work the way the other Quarters’ do. Multiple generations can possess the gift at one time. Grammy's power has been slowly fading away, though. We've been waiting to see if it transferred to either you or me, but it appears to just be disappearing altogether.”

I sensed the tension those words invited and smiled nervously.

“All those years of lying seem to have caught up to us,” I joked.

“Don't you dare speak ill of our family line,” Grammy snapped, her nostrils flaring. Course, white flyaway strands of hair had fallen out of her tight ponytail and surrounded her head in what looked like a crown of spikes. “They made sacrifices you couldn't even bear to think about.”

I mumbled an apology and picked away at a speck of dust on my knee.

Mom's soft voice broke the tense silence that hung in the air around us. “We've tried to keep this from you as long as possible. We've watched the way the pressure has eaten away at the Quarter boys and knew it would be a heavy load for you to carry when there were no solutions to even explore. But when Storie came to town and the Winters boy began reclaiming his gifts, we started to feel a speck of hope that maybe the same would happen to us.”

“Do we have Counters as well?”

Mom nodded her head, and Grammy allowed her to continue speaking.

“Usually. When the last two generations of Quarters showed their greed for power, things started to shift. That's why they had such a hard time finding your friends’ Counters when they were born. Mother Nature did her best to turn the board and ensure no one could cheat. It seems as if our line got tangled in the fray somehow.”

“So, all this time we hated the Quarters… when really, we're one and the same.”

Mom offered a silent nod.

I looked over to Grammy, and the pieces were finally coming together. “That's why you're so defensive of them. If they fall, we all fall.”

“If those boys can't get a grip on this situation and stop the Movement from villainizing them, we're all going to pay the price.”

I felt my head bob in a silent nod of confirmation. It didn't seem plausible, though. Grangers were hardly considered members of the Watchtower coven. How the hell can we be the most powerful witches in it?

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