Chapter II. 1953 #5
She stopped in front of a plate glass window framed by a navy-and-white-striped awning. A large orange tabby cat sat blinking back at them from behind the window.
“That’s Bobby. Hope you don’t mind. He’s not the owner, but don’t tell him so.” Sharon winked and then stepped neatly inside. Bobby narrowed his eyes and yawned, dismissive of these newcomers to his café. Charmed, Mary followed.
The café wasn’t a place Mary would have picked on her own.
White and spare, it was, outside of Bobby’s presence, unromantic and efficient.
But it smelled of coffee and fresh bread, and there was a warmth there that reduced her snobbery to a quick investigation of the silverware as they tucked themselves onto stools at the single counter that stretched the café’s length. All clean.
Fifteen minutes later, the women sat beside each other at one end of the single counter, two of the aforementioned chicken salad sandwiches and glasses of sweet tea sitting before them.
Around them, the noise of the other diners seemed to drop away, the space they occupied untouched by the controlled chaos of orders placed and lunches delivered.
Sharon had been right. The chicken salad looked divine. For once, Mary was going to allow herself to enjoy the meal. To eat the entire thing without worrying about her waistline.
The waitress refilled their teas and then moved down the counter as Mary dipped her head in silent prayer.
Sharon watched her, a slight smirk playing at her lips, and then did the same.
“Goddess Mother, whose abundant gifts I now receive, accept my gratitude and bless all living creatures, great and small.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Sharon said as she lifted her sandwich.
“I’m still a decent, praying girl. Just to a slightly different god.
” She tilted her head and winked, and Mary wanted to lean in and breathe the air Sharon had just exhaled.
Sitting with this woman was a dangerous act of rebellion, and it thrilled her in all the ways her mother and The Path told her it shouldn’t.
She should be excusing herself, should be fleeing such a blatant display of blasphemy, but she felt herself resisting. Felt herself wanting to stay.
“You’re a witch,” Mary said, and immediately wished she could pull the words back into her.
“I’ve been called worse,” Sharon said and popped a cherry tomato into her still somehow perfect bloom of a mouth.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Sharon reached across the counter and laid her hand over the top of Mary’s. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m not going to hex you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“No. Of course not. I suppose I just…” She searched for what it was she truly wanted to say, but the words had evaporated on her tongue like smoke.
Sharon bit into her sandwich and chewed as she considered Mary.
Her voice softened. A clear effort to lessen her prior brazenness.
“If it helps, I don’t believe in any sort of divine evil.
Channeling it for selfish purposes. There’s too much beauty in the world to spend my time trying to darken it.
What I do believe in is nature. The ebb and flow of energy secreted inside all things.
How we might channel it outward. I have no desire to find myself on the receiving end of such negativity.
No matter how much someone might irritate me. ”
Mary did lean forward then, Sharon’s scent falling over them like a veil.
Bergamot and rosemary unfolding over something darker.
Like walking barefoot through the woods after rain, the moss cool beneath her feet.
The chatter of the café fell away, the patrons vanishing into the ether, and they were simply two wild creatures staring at each other and waiting for the other to move.
“So you do magic? Spells?” Mary asked.
Sharon danced her fingers over Mary’s hand.
“You can call it that. If you like. It’s funny…
” Sharon sank back, taking her hand with her, and Mary fought to keep the disappointment from showing on her face.
“I don’t usually discuss my beliefs the first time I meet someone.
People are quick to judge, and they tend to find the violence they’re looking for.
The Burning Times aren’t that long gone, and even so, those ignorant assholes in their white sheets just found a new thing to persecute.
So it keeps me fairly quiet with strangers.
But I feel like I’ve known you my entire life.
Like I can tell you all my secrets, and you’ll keep them. ”
“I understand. About the judgment. My mother would lose her mind if she knew I was here right now. Disown me, get me kicked out of the church, the whole song and dance,” Mary said.
“Well, we just won’t tell her, will we?” Sharon smirked, and it was a quiet devastation. Beside her, Bobby materialized and stretched, his tail wrapping around Sharon’s leg as she leaned down to pet him. “Look at you, you glorious beast! Think you can keep our secret?”
The cat stared back at them, gave a blink, and wandered on.
“I think that means yes,” Mary said.
“I think so, too.” Sharon dropped into a whisper. “I had a feeling something wonderful would happen today. And here you are.”
“Like magic,” Mary said. She was giving in to this warmth, this acceptance, and it felt so much better than pushing it away in shame.
“Yes. Exactly like magic.”