“We tried different positions, of course, with me remaining prone with my legs in the air for hours. We’ve tried different times of the month. We’ve even tried a turkey baster.”
“Why would you try that?”
“The problem is really more with Finch,” Maureen said. “His libido, if you must know.”
Ann didn’t need to know-in fact, she would have preferred never to know. But she was afraid that if she didn’t address this new bit of information right away, Maureen might be tempted to share it with the whole class. “Talk to me after this is over,” Ann said. “Maybe I can brew something up for you.”
Maureen looked so grateful that Ann feared she might turn to the class and make another announcement, but she didn’t.
After class was over, Ann did brew something up-several things, in fact. Though it was long before Viagra, Ann had pretty good luck with raising people’s libidos, sometimes to the point of being less a gift and more of a curse. “It’s a tea,” Ann said. “Steep it for at least five minutes, and make sure he drinks it hot.” It was one of Ann’s most powerful potions, and it was popular among Salem’s male population. Even so, she doubted that her potion would work for Finch and Maureen. Ann had known Finch for years. She had been surprised when she heard he’d gotten married.
Maureen completed Ann’s introductory class in herbology. And then she took another, more advanced class. And somewhere along the line, Ann and Maureen became friends.
All that spring, Maureen fed Ann’s tea to Finch.
“So is it working?” Ann asked her one day after class.
“It is,” Maureen said. “Though I’ve taken to putting it in his wine instead of brewing tea.”
“I’m not sure about that,” Ann said. “You’re supposed to drink it hot.”
“Well, it seems to be working,” Maureen said. “Plus, I added a little something.”
“What kind of little something?” Ann asked.
“Just something I read about that enhances pleasure.”
Ann looked at her strangely. In the last month, Maureen had purchased every book on herbs and plants that Ann sold. If there was something in there that enhanced pleasure, chances were that Ann had already added it to the mix.
Maureen picked up on Ann’s concern. “Don’t worry about it,” she said.
“Hey,” Ann said. “If you found something that got Finch going, you ought to give me the recipe. We can package it and make a fortune.”
“Thanks so much,” Maureen said.
Ann didn’t realize quite how it sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said.
“Sure you did,” Maureen said.
It was the first time Ann realized that Maureen wasn’t in denial.
“I don’t get it,” Ann said. “Why do you stay?”
“Hey, it’s working,” Maureen said. “And we really want to have a baby.” Maureen’s eyes filled up with tears. “Finch would make such a good father,” she said.
Ann had already overstepped, and she knew it. “I wish you many blessings,” she said.
THAT SUMMER MAUREEN AND FINCH went their separate ways, Finch to Amherst and Maureen to Baker’s Island. It had been Mickey, and not Maureen, who’d told Ann about the split. So when they showed up at the store together, Ann was surprised.
“We have something to tell you,” Maureen said. “We’re pregnant.” For someone who had just gotten everything she said she wanted, Maureen didn’t look quite as happy as one might expect.
Finch, on the other hand, seemed ecstatic.
“Congratulations!” Ann said. “This is the best news!”
The pregnancy kept them together, as Maureen had hoped when she originally asked Ann for potions. The father-to-be was so attentive that Maureen couldn’t help but be happy during the duration of the pregnancy. Still, something was clearly bothering her. When Ann finally decided to ask, Maureen quoted Oscar Wilde: When the gods wish to punish us they answer our prayers.
ANN DID FOUR MORE READINGS before Zee showed up. She was beginning to doubt that Zee was coming at all when she suddenly appeared at the door.
Ann got one of her girls to take over her station, then led Zee through the back rooms past beakers, bottles, wands, crystals, jugs of distilled water and stacks of handmade soap, candles, and rows of books on magick and the healing arts.
Ann had recently replaced her Indian-print door curtain with a beaded one and her futon with a brass daybed she’d bought from an old witch she’d met at the Farmington midsummer festival who was retiring and moving to Florida.
Zee hadn’t been in Ann’s private room in years. Looking around, she thought it seemed more brothel than witch’s lair.
“Too McCabe and Mrs. Miller?” Ann asked.
“No, I like it,” Zee said, heading straight for the bed and sitting cross-legged as if they were about to do Transcendental Meditation, as they had in the old days when her mother brought her along. Zee had been the most devout little student, keeping her eyes closed and holding the lotus position for longer than anyone else and with such an expression of sheer determination that Ann and Maureen couldn’t help but laugh.
Ann had made sandwiches with sprouts and early tomatoes on the multigrain bread she bought at A & J King. “Thank the goddess for that bakery,” Ann said.
“I’ve been meaning to stop there,” Zee said. “The place right next to Cornerstone Books, right?”
“The other side of the building,” Ann said, turning on the electric kettle. “Would you like a cup of herbal tea?”
“Sprouts, herbal tea, the world has moved on, you know.”
“You’re wrong about that,” Ann said. “The world is moving backward. Yoga is back. And everyone’s vegan.”
“Not everyone,” Zee said. “I’m sure as hell not.”
“Everyone in my circle,” Ann said.
Zee laughed and took a bite of the sandwich. “Actually, it’s really good,” she said, thinking she should get some of this bread for Finch’s sandwiches.
Zee looked at Ann’s bookshelves. “You still stock books on reincarnation?” she asked.
“A few,” Ann said. “What are you looking for?”
“I don’t know,” Zee said. “I just thought I’d read something about it.”
“You still think your mother’s coming back as a radish?”
“A what?”
Zee had clearly forgotten her earlier speculation. Ann waved her hand to clear the words. She went to her bookcase and pulled out a book by Edgar Cayce that one of her students had given her.
“Cayce is a good place to start,” she said.
Zee put the paperback in her bag.
“Have you started to believe in reincarnation?” Ann had to ask.
“No. Maybe… I don’t know,” Zee said. “What about you?”
“Pretty much. I believe more in simultaneous incarnations. Though I do agree with what Eleanor Roosevelt said about reincarnation.”
“What was that?”
“I’m paraphrasing here, but it was something to the effect of, ‘I don’t think the idea of my being here in a past life is any more surreal than the idea of my being here now.’ Something like that.”
“I always liked Eleanor Roosevelt,” Zee said. Then, thinking about it, she went on, “I’m considering giving up my practice.”
“Interesting segue,” Ann said.
Zee shrugged.
“Why would you do that?”
“I’m just not sure I’m any good at it,” Zee said.
“I would imagine that you’re very good at it.”
“Don’t bet on it,” Zee said.
“Has something happened?”
“A lot of things have happened,” Zee said.
“Like what?” Ann asked.
“Like, I’m not sure why I got into it in the first place.”
“That’s not too difficult to figure out,” Ann said. “After what happened to your mother.”
“That doesn’t mean it was the right choice, does it?”