“Can I enter this day in my online calendar?” he asks with a chuckle. “It may never happen again.”

“Very funny, professor.” I kiss him and grab my purse from the mudroom hook. “I’ve got a busy week. But I promise I’ll try to pop over some night.”

“I’ll be here waiting impatiently, my love.”

“Love you, honey.” I blow him a kiss.

When I open the door, a blast of frigid air hits me like a brick. After the quick drive to Ronnie and Derek’s house, I shiver in the near-freezing temperature while I wait to go in. I haven’t spoken with my best friend since Thanksgiving. The worry melted from her face when Trinity announced the return of the kidnapped children. With just a couple of weeks left until her due date, she has to be driving her partner bananas.

“Hey, Gwyn,” Derek says as he opens the door. “Get in here. It’s bitter out today. Your legs must be frozen in those yoga pants.”

“I should have worn jeans, but I’m going to the DUB fitness center after my visit. How are you doing? Ready to be a papa?”

An elated grin brightens his face. “I can’t wait. Ronnie is in the nursery making up the bassinet and crib.”

“Has she slept more soundly since Thanksgiving?”

“Oh, yeah. Except for the discomfort of the baby moving around all night. And her tendons ache.”

“Yeah. I imagine they do. A couple more weeks, and she’ll not be sleeping at all.”

“I’ll help as much as I can. I plan on getting the baby in and out of the bassinet for her to nurse. Hopefully, she can fall back asleep more quickly that way. I pass out the minute my head hits the pillow. Once the baby arrives, I’ll have to cut my hours back and rely on Jamal.”

I enter the nursery as Ronnie pulls the baby comforter over the crib mattress, a celestial moon theme. Rose quartz to encourage bonding between the baby and its parents is scattered around the room. Stars cover the ceiling.

“Hello, Mama,” I say. “Nesting, are we?”

She chuckles and massages her baby bump. “You know it. I can’t wait to meet this kid.”

“Ladies, I’ll leave you two alone to chat,” Derek says. “I’ll be at the fitness center for a while.”

Ronnie blows Derek a kiss as he leaves, and I admire the décor again.

“I love the celestial decorations. You created a magical room.”

“Wait a minute, Gwyn. You’re gonna love this.”

She closes the blackout curtains, shuts the door, and turns out the light. The stars on the ceiling sparkle in the dark. She chants an incantation and waves her hand, an amber glow swirling upward from her palm, and they twinkle like the sparkling orbs in indigo skies.

“Does Derek know you’re using magic in here?” I ask.

She snickers. “Not yet. It may be my tiny secret with Wiggles. But I don’t think he’ll mind a little twinkling.”

“He’ll warm up to the idea. After the commotion of the children’s return, we didn’t get to chat about how you feel now. You must be floating on a cloud.”

She smiles, admiring the sparkling stars above. “I am. And I’m so grateful the universe blessed me with this gift of life.”

The corners of her mouth dip, and she grimaces. She lays a hand on her belly, staring at it as if she’s experiencing discomfort. I wrap an arm around her shoulders.

“What’s wrong, Ronnie? Are you hurting?”

“I realize I have no reason to feel like this. But a sense of dread still clutches at my heart. I can’t explain it.”

“It’s normal to react like this. You’re going to be a mom, so you better get used to it. That feeling never leaves. I still worry about Tyler.”

“Well, fuck that. I didn’t sign up for the continually stressed mom division.”

I laugh and give her a squeeze. “You’ll find your own path, I’m sure.”

“I damn well better. Because I hate this daily dose of doomsday intuition. When does the fun start?”

“Soon, friend. Count your days of independence, because they’re flitting away.”

Ronnie waves her amber magic at the stars one more time, and they glimmer. “Sometimes freedom is overrated.”

Her words remind me of the conversation I had with Archie before I left. She’s right. Maybe it’s worth the compromise?

Aidan isn’t a problem at all Monday afternoon or following dinner when I return. He plays games with me, whining very little. He even entertains himself for a while, to my chagrin. I’m enjoying this new role as a substitute grandmother. I wonder why Ashley hasn’t mentioned grandparents on either side, hers or her dead husband’s. How odd. But it’s not my business. There could be family issues of estrangement, and I won’t pry.

My witch’s intuition recognizes no magic residue or evidence of Nuada’s presence around Aidan. At least for now, he appears safe. Ashley doesn’t need to stress over the kidnappers, and I won’t have to approach Jeff about the issue. After a quick bath, I put Aidan to bed.

“You were such a good boy today,” I say, stroking his blond hair. “And I hear you went to a few play groups with other little boys and girls. Did you have fun?”

“Yes, Miss Gwyn. We laugh a lot. They don’t have invisible hands like you.”

I chuckle. “No. They probably don’t.”

“Miss Gwyn? I have invisible hands?” He raises his hand and waves it in the air.

Holy crystals. How do I answer this question? “I don’t think so, Aidan.”

He giggles. “I think I can.” He waves both of his hands around.

Oh, my gods. I should have never used magic to discipline the boy. But I have to humor him now. “You can always try.”

“Mommy says I shouldn’t.” He yawns and stretches his arms.

What a strange answer. He must be confused. “You need to go to sleep now. Goodnight, Aidan.”

“Night, Miss Gwyn.” He closes his angelic blue eyes and rolls over onto his stomach.

While I wait for Ashley and Jeff to return from the concert, I flip through a few Welsh reference books left out on the dining room table. I pick up a lone book with a tattered spine and skim through stories of fairies, stumbling upon a few about the Tylwyth Teg. One story tells of fairy maidens who dance, make rings, and live under the water. They’re enamored with those who have golden hair, sometimes becoming wives of human men. But they must avoid touching iron…

The doorknob rattles, and the two young lovers enter, deep in discussion over the performance. Ashley notices me holding her reference and rushes to me. Jeff’s eyes widen.

“What are you doing?” She takes the book from me and presses it over her heart. “I didn’t mean to be rude. This is a personal copy of stories my husband gave me.”