Page 21 of Dragon's Midlife Secret Baby
“I do it.” He took the brush from her and swept it inside his mouth, looking in the mirror at how the paste foamed through his lips.
She waited patiently while he played with the toothbrush, but the truth was that her heart was shattering away a piece at a time. Corbin wasgrowing and changing every day. Beck seemed genuinely interested in being a father, but now he was gone. How long would he stay away?
When Corbin was in his pajamas and ready, she scooped him up and carried him to his bed. Chelsea cuddled him tightly before tucking him in. “Goodnight, my darling.”
“Night night!”
She turned on some classical music and slipped out of the bedroom.
Kristy had a group of the younger witches in the living room, and she was teaching them the basics of tarot card reading. A large number of deck boxes were arrayed on the table. “You can pick whatever deck you like. Don’t worry about what kind of deck it is or what the meaning of the individual cards is. Tonight we’re just working on spreads and card placement.”
“Ooh, I like this one.” Iris had come to the coven fairly recently. Young and shy, she had dark wavy hair and pale skin. Her glasses and septum ring put her somewhere between a nerd and a goth, so she fit right in with the sisterhood. “It’s so cute!”
Kristy leaned over to look and smiled. “Nothing like some cuddly cats to let you know if you’re on the rightlife path.”
“This one looks just like mine!” Iris enthused, holding up a card with a fluffy orange cat on it.
Kristy glanced up when she saw Chelsea walk through. “Do you want to join us?”
Normally, Chelsea would be more than happy to help teach their younger members. It was important to keep this knowledge alive, and even her small amount of experience with tarot cards could be helpful to those still getting the hang of it. Right now, though, Chelsea knew she simply couldn’t handle it. “Not tonight, thanks.”
She passed through to the kitchen, where Maeve and Lucille were fighting for space at the stove.
“You really need to add more salt to this.” Lucille tossed the spoon she’d just used to taste Maeve’s soup into the sink.
Maeve let out an exasperated sigh. “I never adjust the salt until the very end. You ought to know that after hanging out with me for seventy years.”
“Only sixty-eight for me,” Lucille reminded her older sister. “And you’d think after seventy years you could make a soup that’s not so bland.”
“If you’d stay out of my way and stop opening the oven so much, maybe I could concentrate on what I’m doing,” Maeve retorted.
Lucille grabbed a potholder from a hook on thewall. She bumped her sister aside with her hip so she could peek into the oven again. “I don’t want my cookies to burn. Those girls out there are expecting something to snack on.”
“Their reward is the knowledge they’re gaining,” Maeve reminded her. “It’s not like anyone was around to bake cookies for us every time we mastered a new spell or remembered which crystal to use.”
Chelsea cleared her throat. “I don’t think anyone baked cookies for me while I was learning, either, but I sure wouldn’t turn them down.”
Lucille beamed and eagerly gestured toward the cooling rack. “It sounds to me like you deserve a treat for other reasons. Your mother got me all caught up on what’s been going on with Beck. I’m sorry I’ve been working so much overtime at the library, or I would’ve been here. Are you hanging in there?”
“Not exactly.” The spat between the two sisters was quickly forgotten as Chelsea perched herself on a stool at the breakfast bar. She grabbed a dark brown cookie and took an experimental bite. It was sweet and spicy, almost like gingerbread. “Vintage recipe?”
Lucille grinned. She was slightlytaller and slimmer than her older sister, and she kept her hair in a shorter, more fashionable style. Neither of them looked their age. “We had a huge estate donation. I didn’t let myself get excited about it when I heard. Usually it means someone doesn’t know how to unload their grandmother’s old romance novels. This was quite the find, though, with lots of incredibly old recipe books. What do you think?”
“It’s really good.”
“I think she ought to get some genuine, healthy comfort food in her stomach before she starts eating a bunch of cookies,” Maeve announced as she slid a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of Chelsea.
“Homemade noodles and everything?” Chelsea asked.
Maeve gave her sister a superior look.
Lucille rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Chelsea. “Really, honey. How are you?”
There was nothing like her mother’s soup when she was feeling down, but right now, even that wouldn’t be enough to make her feel better. “I’m devastated. I already lost my mate once, to the point that I’d grieved for him like he was dead. Then I get the miracle of having him back, only to have him slip through my hands like water. Corbin told mejust a few minutes ago that he misses him, and it just breaks my heart even more.”
“It’s not easy to see your children hurt,” Maeve acknowledged. “I never figured out a way to prevent that, even in the best of times.”
Chelsea took a spoonful of the soup, letting the salty broth and fresh herbs roll over her tongue. There was plenty of magic in a good recipe, just as long as the intent was there. “I know that, but it still sucks.”
