Page 65 of Charmed, I'm Sure
Challenge accepted, sunshine.
Shock widened her eyes as I wrapped my hand around hers and guided the fork to my lips. Her mouth popped open in a surprised littleoas I held her gaze and took the bite. Flavor exploded on my tongue—creamy cheese, spicy sausage and rice, peppers, and seasoning, the pillowy texture of the eggs. Who would have thought eggs, boudin, and pepper jack cheese would work so well together?
Magnolia and the chef apparently, but who’s keeping track?
A knowing smile spread across her lips as she watched me chew, her brows rising as she asked, “It’s good, right?” Swallowing, I reached for her plate, but she swatted my hand away. “Dream on, cowboy. This ismine.”
“Oh, come on!”
“Nope. Sorry, big boy. Maybe next time you’ll listen to the person withsuperiorculinary knowledge.” She gave me a saucy smile as her fork slipped between her lips, doing a little happy wiggle in her chair.
The rest of our meal passed with laughter and easy conversation. The more time I spent with her away from Bellevue, the more her walls came down, and the smiles she gave me came easier.
“Can I ask you a question?” I asked, snatching the bill from the tabletop and cutting her a disapproving glance when her hand hovered above it.
She narrowed her eyes at me, but there was an upward tilt to her lips as she said, “Didn’t you just?”
“Hardy, har, har.”
I watched as she dabbed her mouth with her napkin and placed it on the table, folding her hands beneath her chin as she looked at me expectantly.
“What’s the connection between your family and the town?”
Her lips turned inward as she adjusted in her seat. “What do you mean?”
“Well, your last name is Bellevue—”
“It is.”
“And welivein Bellevue—”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” she sniped, her gaze shifting out the window as her arms crossed defensively on the table.
Closing the bill fold, I set it on the edge of the table for our waitress to grab, then reached across to take her hand. “Hey.” When her eyes cut to me, they were wary. Something about this subject made her uncomfortable. “We don’t have to talk about it, Mags. I was just curious.”
She watched as I rubbed my thumb across the back of her wrist, blowing out a breath through her nose. Her eyes closed briefly before finding mine again. “It’s not that. It’s just—” Her gaze shifted back down to where my hand wrapped around her wrist. “It’s the reason everyone in town calls us witches.”
I sat in silence, letting her work through whatever was running through her mind, but I couldn’t deny the anxiety curdling in my stomach as the seconds ticked by.
“My family came here from England a long, long,longtime ago and settled around Salem. Generations came and went as the colonies grew around them. Throughout those years, they were known for their use of herbs and natural remedies. But when people began accusing women of being witches for doing precisely that, they fled to the South and settled here. The town of Bellevue was already established, and my however-many-great grandmother married into the founding family. Since then, we’ve just kept the name—regardless of marriage.”
Her gaze grew distant as she spoke, as if she were reliving a history drilled into her brain her whole life, and for all I knew, it might have been.
“My family never stopped doing what they did best, but as the accusations of witches traveled further South, the name was once again assigned to the women in my family. Only down here, they were revered for their abilities… until they weren’t.”
She paused when the waitress came by the table to grab the bill, then began again once she walked away.
“To this day, it doesn’t matter what my aunt, my sisters, or I do. That brand has been attached to our family name. It’s one of the reasons my mom moved out of Bellevue as soon as she could and just… never came back.”
Even though she wasn’t looking at me, I didn’t miss the tears she blinked away as she cleared her throat and continued.
“Anyway, depending on who you ask, it’s either a miracle or a curse. Unfortunately for me, ‘curse’ seems to be the favored term.”
“Mags, I’m so—”
“Please don’t. I don’t want your pity. I just want you to understand why I’m so hesitant aboutthis. That town will never accept me or my family as we are. All they see is what they want to see, and screw the people affected by it.” There was a silver sheen to her eyes as they met mine, and it gutted me.
When the waitress returned with my card, I signed the receipt and stood, extending my hand. Mags gave me a hesitant smile as she slipped her hand into mine, and I pulled her to her feet and into my embrace. I didn’t care that we were in the middle of a restaurant, didn’t care that countless eyes turned our way.
