Page 25 of Midlife Witch Unexpected

“You’ve got a lot of flow,” she said.

I grabbed the plant awkwardly, trying to ignore her at the same time.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen magic that powerful.” She nodded at my hands.

I looked down at them. “You can see it?”

“Absolutely! Someone ingrained magic in you,” she said. “The energy is moving through you very strong.”

“Excuse me?” I asked. I kind of got the movement of energy stuff. I wasn’t even against it. I was from L.A. But magic?

Crazy.

“The heir to The Estate is the High Priestess of Cougar Creek Coven. It was first your great great grandfather, then his three daughters.”

“The ones killed by zombies and monsters,” I muttered, shaking my head.

"Now, judging by the power apparent in your hands, you are the next High Priestess of Cougar Creek Coven," Hilda explained it like it was something I was just supposed to accept and think was all gravy. But I didn’t.

I couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up from within me and spilling across the space between me and Hilda. “You’re joking, right?”

But the old hippy wasn’t laughing at all. She was just looking at me, her large gray eyes questioning. “You have to accept the mantle.”

“Just a minute. I don’t have to do anything,” I argued. “The whole point of coming up here was that I don’t have to be told what to do anymore. I own the house. I have cash reserves. My daughter is in college and my husband is gay. I. Am. Free.”

“You don’t have to accept the mantle,” Hilda said but her gaze was on my hands, which were still defying me with their crazy colors.

I turned and headed into the house, carrying my plant.

“I don’t have to keep this house,” I said over my shoulder, knowing Hilda would follow me. “I don’t have to sell the house. I don’t have to be married. I don’t have to not be married. I get to make my choices and you don’t get to come up here and look at my hands and make decisions based on some strange glow that’s coming out of my body.” I put the plant down and turned to her, pointing a finger. “I know how crazy all of this sounds, but I think you’re crazier.”

“The altar set up in your living room is where your aunt and your family have always done their magic,” Hilda said. “The red room that is so barren is a receiving room for the coven. It’s where they received guests, but we haven’t had any in about fifty years.”

My eyes opened wide. “You realize how crazy all this is?”

But Hilda continued relentlessly as if it was imperative I understood and accepted everything. “I am a witch from your coven. Well, the coven that will be yours once you accept it.”

“Who is in this coven?” I asked. “Let me guess, that Trina lady.”

“Yes,” Hilda affirmed. “She’s in the coven, as are Anita and Drake.”

“Her kids?”

“Yes, they’re excellent at remembering all the rules.”

"So, listen, here's the deal," I said, turning away from her and heading back into my kitchen. Hopefully, she would get the hint and leave. "I'm going to say no to the High Priestess of the Wiccan coven in the southern Oregon woods gig. I will leave your altar up and you guys can come and get it, but please knock on the front door."

"We have a job to do protecting New Attica." Hilda gazed at me with earnest. I glanced quickly over at Branson, who had just walked into the house.

Without knocking, of course.

He looked at my hands and then at Hilda like it was to be expected.

Was I the only sane one in the room?

“You’re in on this?” I asked, my hand slamming over my mouth. My judgment had failed me again. I went from gay to crazy.

I stared at them each slowly in turn, shaking my head.

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