Page 107 of At Her Will

She recalled the glances at dinner, the way each of them had been getting to know Rev. As if they knew they were talking to a man who would become one of them.

Who might be father to the children she’d always wanted.

Her phone buzzed. After glancing at it, Vera dipped her head toward him. “I need to take this one. It will make you smile.”

He gave her a curious look as she had her hands-free pick up the call. “Hey, Jasmine. I have you on speaker with a friend of mine, Rev. Are you calling to give me good news?”

“Isoam,” came the effusive reply. “Only you might want to hang up on me. Joss and I finally decided on a date. We want to do it at the next full moon King Tide, at that park we picked out.”

Vera calculated the date and blinked. “That’s soon.”

“We’re going to keep it simple, but please tell me you’re available. We honestly will change it if you aren’t, because you’re who we want to handfast us.”

“I can do it.” Vera suppressed a laugh as a squeal came through the phone.

“I’m so happy.”

“I’m happy for you. The first time I introduced you, I knew you two were meant for one another.”

"May God bless your union and your love," Rev said.

“Thank you. Wow, you have a great voice.” Jasmine’s voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. “Vera, are you hanging out with a Christian?"

Rev blinked as Vera laughed. “Yes. I'm living dangerously. Maybe he’ll come to the ceremony, and you’ll get to meet him.”

“I’d love that. Consider yourself invited, Rev. Oh, that’s my mom calling. I just left her the message about the date, and she’ll be freaking out.”

“Okay, go talk to her. We’ll touch base next week on what ritual elements you want. Tell Joss congratulations. Blessings on both of you.”

When she disconnected the call, Rev put his hand on hers again, and gripped it. “You marry people?”

“Yes. Some Wiccans call it handfasting.”

She told him more about Jasmine and Joss. Jasmine was a gardener, and Joss a passionate fresh food cook.

They’d met at a Beltane festival. Joss had been helping with the after-ritual refreshments, and Jasmine came with her friends. Their fingers brushed when he handed over the cup of mead and a napkin full of crescent-shaped almond cookies. He admitted he gave her one extra. That had been the start of it.

“Joss is very shy, and as you could probably tell, Jasmine is like one of her garden flowers. She turns her face up to the sun and soaks it all in. He sat with her after the refreshments were passed out, and they talked about his favorite vegetables and herb seasonings. She arranged for him to visit her garden at the community college. She teaches botany there, and he cooks fora vegan restaurant in NOLA. We can go there sometime, unless you have an objection to a meatless meal.”

“I tend to eat what’s placed in front of me and be thankful for it.” He touched her hand. “Your blood family. I don’t want to pry too much, but will you tell me more about why you had to leave them?”

Even with him, it took effort not to withdraw, physically and mentally, from the question. “If you’ll tell me why you need to know.”

“Witford tried to find out more about it. Said your family shunned you. I don’t need you to say another word about it to me,” he said, tightening his hand on hers when he saw the anger in her face. “But I not asking because of that. I asking because I want to know how to share that hurt. Help you with it when it comes upon you the way it does.”

She’d worked on this wound in her soul, knowing it did no good to deprive it of oxygen. Maybe because of that, and because of Rev himself, she knew she could believe him, and finally talk to him about it.

“Faith should guide your life. I don’t believe religion should dictate it. There needs to be room for questions, growth. It’s a marriage, where you and your faith bond with a respect for individuality and free will. People can choose different religious paths. My family didn’t feel that way about it. It was a painful road, and it ended with them telling me I couldn’t be part of the family anymore.”

“I hope they weren’t that cruel about it.”

“No.” They were worse. She didn’t have to say it, though. She expected it was vibrating off of her.

“You know the saying about not burning your bridges? I realized a bridge only leads to one side or the other. When they burned that bridge, I could see the water again. And I thought, if we all get into the water at some point, maybe somewheredownstream, we reach a together point again. But that’s not up to me. It’s up to the current, and where it takes us.”

She drew a breath. “I constructed a bridge out of twigs, burned it in my cauldron and then scattered the ashes in the Mississippi. Watched it flow away.” At his raised brow, she explained. “It’s similar magic. A small version to replicate your bigger intent.”

She gave a half laugh. “Cyn would say what it boils down to is, ‘I kicked that shit to the curb and got on with living my life.’ I guess that’s true, too.”

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