Page 17 of The Witching Hours

Next, she called Grace.

“Hey, Sis. This is something I should ask in person, but I don’t have the luxury of ideal circumstances these days.”

“Ask,” Grace said simply, that one word conveying a lifetime of absolute love and loyalty. Brigid knew that no matter what her question was, Grace’s answer was already yes.

“If something happens to me, will you raise my boys?”

“Brigid. Don’t be ridiculous. Of course. Who else would be equipped to ride herd and make their lives hell?”

Brigid chuckled. “Grace, you are the best.”

“The best what?”

“The best everything. Sister. Mother. Wife. Friend. And let’s don’t forget aunt.”

“You’re making me blush.”

“You don’t know how to blush. I’m talking to the lawyer next to make it official and make you the beneficiary of my life insurance proceeds. There’d be enough money to take care of them and pay for their education. You might also need to sign something agreeing to be guardian.”

“I always knew that learning to write my name would pay off.”

The boys sat in silence at the kitchen island as Brigid explained the situation.

“Do we still get our own rooms?” Blake asked.

“Kenny does. You and Blake will share,” Brigid answered.

Judd and Blake stared at each other for a couple of heartbeats before Judd said, “Cool.”

What would she do without him?

Of course, there were hiccups in making such life-altering changes with kids, but Brigid’s hope that all would be well was born out brilliantly. The entire town adopted the Carmady family and looked out for them like relatives. Once a week Blake and Judd used their bikes to deliver papers to the vendors that made them available. In some ways their lives were like a throwback to Norman Rockwell days. In the most unusual circumstance for modern times, the Carmady boys were actually being raised by their mom, aunt, uncle by marriage and a village.

There was nothing about being proprietor, reporter, and editor in chief of theGazettethat Brigid didn’t love. She loved the town, loved being close to her sister, and eventually fellin love with one of the firefighters her brother-in-law worked with. TheGazettebuilding’s upstairs wasn’t big enough to add another adult. So, they bought a charming historic house just a half block away.

Funding was not a problem. A lot of the policy residuals that Steve had provided for his family in lieu of life insurance had been invested and grown into a prize-winning nest egg. She’d told her boys they could go to college anywhere they were accepted.

When Brigid’s little family had moved to New Milford, she’d sold most of their furniture and wall art in an estate sale for pennies on the dollar, but she’d kept the mortar and pestle.

Over time, with occasional downtime to think, she’d solved the mystery and put it together that the Amon incident had begun when she and Grace accidentally made purple smoke. It crossed her mind that blood was involved, but she had no interest in dwelling on that. Courtesy of her “intuition”, she believed she had a moral duty to keep the old tools from falling into innocent, unsuspecting hands. So, she placed the mortar and pestle in the safe she’d withheld from the estate sale and had installed in theGazettebuilding.

Every now and then when sleep eluded her, she’d rise and pass the time working on a story or editorial. Sometimes she’d be inexplicably drawn to look out the front window. Sometimes she saw a dark figure standing under the streetlamp looking at the house. She didn’t have to wonder who it was. She knew.

Her guess was that Amon was curious about the one that got away. She refrained from following through on an impulse to give him a thumbs up. Sometimes she thought about employing a different digit.

But.

It’s not smart to mess with the devil.

The whole town turned out for Judd’s thirtieth birthday party. It had started as a rumor that he’d be coming home for the weekend. Within twenty-four hours of the town being alerted to a visit by their favorite son, arrangements were being made to use the rec center and bring potluck. It was no secret that Brigid was proud of that kid. He’d gone to college on a baseball scholarship and had a job waiting after graduation with a highly rated private wealth management firm in New York.

After singing and blowing out thirty candles in one breath, Judd was pulled aside by his mom.

“I can’t wait for this to be done so I can take you over and show you all the updates to theGazette. You’re gonna be so surprised.”

“Oh, wow. I… I really want to see that, but I need to beg for a rain check,” he said. “I have to leave right after the party.” He smiled big. “Got a surprise of my own.”

Brigid hid her disappointment well. Her middle son looked not just happy, but excited. “You look pretty pleased with yourself,” she teased. “Am I gonna like it?”

---