Spells

she said. There was a distinct lack of regret in her voice. “Maybe less, after last night.”

“Is it really such a bother?”

“Sometimes.”

David’s hands stroked one of the longer petals on the blossom from base to tip, then brought it briefly to his nose and inhaled. “It’s just so…I don’t know…sexy.”

“Really? But it’s so…plantish.”

“Plantish?” David said with a laugh. “Is that a technical term?”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. You have this thing on your back that is prettier than any flower I’ve ever seen. It smells amazing and is so smooth and cool to the touch. And,” he added, “it’s magical. What could possibly not be sexy about that?”

She grinned. “Maybe, if you put it that way.”

“Thank you,” David said, licking his finger and drawing himself a point on an imaginary chalkboard.

“But only because it’s not yours,” she countered.

“It’s kind of mine,” he said suggestively, pulling her tight against him.

“Only because I share,” Laurel said.

He kissed her softly and stared down at her face just long enough to make Laurel squirm a little. “Did your mom call?” she asked, changing the subject to shift his focus away from her.

David shook his head. “Not yet, but I’d better go. In fact,” he said, glancing at the display on his phone, “I don’t have any messages, so my mom must not have missed me yet. If I hurry, she might not even realize I didn’t make it home last night.” He stretched. “And I’m really not much of a fan of your early mornings. I could use a couple more hours of sleep before work.”

“How late are you supposed to work?”

“Just from noon to five. Don’t worry.” David was part of the stock crew at the drugstore where his mom was the pharmacist. Being the top dog’s kid definitely had its advantages. He had a very flexible schedule and only worked about two Saturdays a month, with an occasional Sunday thrown in. Of course, Laurel had similar advantages and only had to work at her parents’ stores when she needed a twenty. Or more.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way to keep your mom from going out at night?” Laurel asked.

David rolled his eyes in her direction. His mom was rather famous for being the life of the party.

“I was just asking.”

“Do you still have Klea’s card?” David asked.

Laurel found something interesting to look at on the floor. “Yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

Laurel hesitated, then pulled it out of her pocket. She’d memorized it already. Klea Wilson, it proclaimed in bold, black letters. Then a number underneath. No job description, no address, no picture or logo. Just her name and number.

David had his cell phone out and was adding the number to his contacts. “Just to be safe,” he said. “In case you lose this or something.”

“I won’t lose it.” Although I might throw it away on purpose. Something about Klea made her uneasy, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe it was just those stupid sunglasses.

“By the way,” Laurel said tentatively. “I think I should go out to the land today. Tomorrow, at the latest.”

David stiffened. “How come?”

“They need to know what happened,” Laurel said, not meeting his eyes.

“You mean Tamani needs to know what happened?”

“And Shar,” Laurel said defensively.

David pushed his hands into his pockets and was silent. “Can I come?” he finally said.

“I’d prefer that you didn’t.”

His head popped up. “Why not?”

Laurel sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “Tamani always gets weird when you’re around, and quite frankly, I think you get weird too. I need to sit down and have a serious talk with them about this Klea woman and I don’t need the two of you trying to get at each other’s throats while I’m doing it. Besides,” she added, “you have to work.”

“I could get out of it,” he said stiffly.

Laurel looked up at him now. “You don’t need to. I can do this alone. And it’s not like you have anything to worry about. I’m with you. I love you. I don’t know what else I can say to convince you.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He sighed and wrapped his arms around her, then pulled back and looked at her. “I’ll be honest with you — I don’t like it when you go out to see him. Especially alone; I’d rather be with you.” He hesitated. “But I trust you. I promise.” He shrugged. “I’m just the stereotypical jealous boyfriend, I guess.”

“Well, I’m flattered,” Laurel said, pushing up on her toes for a kiss. “But I’m just going to talk.” She wrinkled her nose. “And clean. I should at least air out the house; no one’s been inside it for months.”

“Are you going to drive?”

“Well, I was going to fly,” she said playfully, pointing to her back, “but apparently it doesn’t actually work that way.”

“I’m serious.”

“Okay,” Laurel said, not sure where he was going with this. “Yes, I’m going to drive.”

David’s face was tight. “What if they follow you?”

Laurel shook her head. “I can’t imagine they would. I mean, it’s daylight, for one thing. And its almost all highway. And really, if they followed me all the way to the land, they’d have a rude surprise waiting for them.”

“That’s true,” David said, his brow furrowed.

“I’ll be careful,” Laurel promised. “I’m protected here, and I won’t stop until I get there.”

David pulled her close. “I’m sorry I worry so much,” he said. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” He paused. “I don’t suppose you’d consider taking the…um…thing Klea gave us?”

“No,” Laurel said sharply. “That’s enough. Out!” she said, shooing him toward the front door. “Out!”

“Okay, okay,” David said, laughing. “I’m leaving.”

Laurel grinned and pulled him close for a kiss. “Bye,” she whispered. He slipped out the door and she locked it behind him.

“I didn’t think I actually had to tell you, no sleepovers with David. I thought that rule was pretty obvious.”

Laurel jumped, then turned to look up at her mother leaning over the banister. “Sorry. We fell asleep watching the movie. Nothing happened.”

Her mom laughed. “Your hair got that way just from sleeping?”

Laurel’s fatigue and stress rolled together with the mental picture of how she must look, and suddenly everything seemed funny. She laughed, then snorted, and laughed harder. She tried in vain to stifle her giggles.

Her mom came the rest of the way down the stairs, her expression halfway between exasperation and amusement.

“I must look so bad,” Laurel said, running her fingers through her hair. It was still a little crunchy from the hair spray she’d decided to use last night.

“Let’s just say it’s not your finest moment.”

Laurel sighed and opened the fridge for a soda. “We really did just fall asleep.”

“I know,” her mom said with a smile. She busied herself crushing chewable vitamin tablets with a mini mortar and pestle. “I came down to check on you at two.” She sprinkled the vitamin powder on the soil around the African violets — a trick she’d learned years ago from a man who grew marijuana indoors, ironically. Laurel watched her mom and realized that neither of them had said anything awkward or mean. At least not yet. For a few minutes everything seemed normal. Laurel didn’t know whether to enjoy it while it lasted or lament the fact that it happened so rarely.