Chapter VIII: Secrets

My hope in Simanity is being restored little by little. Xander is surprising me with his patience and civility toward his father, and Buster even seems to be making an effort toward conciliation with his son.

Lilah's behavioral issues aren't completely better, but she does seem to have mellowed a bit, and her relationship with her grandfather seems to be strengthening into a deep bond. He is the only one who she'll listen to, and while I sometimes envy their relationship, I am so thankful for her improvements at home and at school.

In fact, Buster is becoming such an integral member of our family that I just couldn't keep my thoughts to myself anymore, and one evening I revealed an idea I had been mulling over for nearly a week to Xander at the dinner table.

“Xander, I think we should ask your father to move in with us,” I said, watching his face apprehensively. He put down his fork and looked at me with an enigmatic expression, so I barged on ahead, speaking in a nervous, hurried tone. “I mean, Beau just asked me the other day when I was going to come back to work, and I could really use a few hours a day to interact with adults for a change. And Lilah is so much better behaved with Buster around. Her grades have improved, she's listening better, she even helps me with the boys! Plus, I worry about your dad all alone in that big house by himself. He's getting on in years and he should have people around to look out for him....” I trailed off, having run out of steam, and I sat searching Xander's face. He looked at his plate, thinking, then turned to me.

“You're right.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You're absolutely right. I think it's about time we asked Dad to move in with us. After all, he's family, and it would be best for everyone. And we don't exactly need your income, but it would be nice to have as padding. Have you brought it up with him yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Well, I'll stop by after work and mention it, see what he thinks.”

It was too good to be true. Not only had Xander seemingly come to forgive his father for earlier prejudices, but now he was welcoming him as a member of our home! I was floored, but I recovered quickly and made a mental note to call Beau tomorrow.

Buster agreed to move in with us. Everyone was so excited and cooperative that we had very little trouble moving his things into the spare bedroom in a single day. Xander spoke to a realtor about putting the house on the market, and she assured us she would take care of it. The children all welcomed Buster home with hugs and excited cheers, and I thought I even glimpsed a tear in the old man's eye as he stepped into his new room.

I didn't tell Xander, but Buster had pulled me aside and made me promise him one thing. “I've grown to love you and the children, Moriah, and I would be happy to move in with you all on one condition.” I nodded, apprehensively. “You need to whip that indecisive son of mine into shape and marry him. No more of this living in sin. My grandchildren deserve a real home.” I tried and failed to hide my smile as I agreed to his condition. When I first met Xander's parents, I never would have dreamed that I would ever grow to love Buster as my own father, much less that he'd give me his blessing-- no, an order!-- to marry his son!

* * *

Everything was going so well. Buster had been spending so much time at our house that very little adjustment was needed and even the children made a smooth transition. Beau welcomed me back enthusiastically to work, and even took Cornelia and I out to lunch on my first day back. The boys were happy and worn out at the end of the day spent with their grandfather, and he had even helped Lilah with her homework. I was ecstatic.

Imagine my surprise, then, on Saturday morning when I came downstairs and discovered Buster standing in our kitchen, an antique wand in hand, muttering incantations as Xander played with the boys in the living room.

“Buster? What are you--? How did you--? You... know magic?” I glanced toward Xander for confirmation of what I was seeing, but his back was to me as he chatted with Mattei.

“Xander?” I said, but he didn't turn around, as if he hadn't even heard me, and I turned back to Buster, confused.

“He can't hear you,” Buster explained, smirking in a way that rubbed me wrong. “Boy's never been observant, and even if he were, I mastered the 'overlook' spell years ago.”

“Overlook spell? Buster, what's going?” I asked, exasperated. Xander continued to play with the boys, blithely unaware of anything going on around him.

“I should think it would be obvious, Moriah,” he said, with that same ugly smirk. He looked me over. “I'm a wizard, just like you. 'Course, I'm not surprised you didn't figure it out before now. You have that in common with my son.”

“What do you mean?”

“You're not terribly observant. I admit, I was careful to hide anything overt, but the signs were all there. Any competent practitioner would have noticed by now.”

I balled my fists feeling my breath become shallow as my blood started to pump furiously in my ears. I had befriended this man, invited him into my home, to live with me and care for my children, and now... here he was, insulting me to my face with my husband standing only a few feet away, oblivious. My eyes slid toward my bedroom door and the dresser drawer where I kept my own wand.

“Looking for this?” Buster asked, and produced my wand from his back pants pocket.

I gaped at him, then quickly reached for it. Despite his age, he moved with the grace and speed of a cat, batting my hand away. “Don't bother, my dear. Even if I handed it to you now, you wouldn't have a prayer of using it. My protection spell is likely worth your entire arsenal put together.”

“What are you doing, Buster?” I asked quietly, trying to keep the fear from revealing itself in my voice. “What are you trying to prove here by threatening me in my own home?”

“Threatening?” Buster seemed sincerely taken aback, and tucked both wands back into his pocket. “My dear Moriah, how on earth can anything I've said be misconstrued as threatening? I have merely been trying to explain what you have just walked in upon!”

I crossed my arms, giving him an expectant glare. “Then explain.”

“I fully intend to. Shall we have some breakfast first, though? Perhaps coffee?”

“Now,” I growled.

Buster shrugged nonchalantly. “Very well, if you insist. But as the children will be growing hungry soon, let's pause them for a moment, shall we?” He gestured with one hand, and suddenly the entire room froze as if someone had pushed pause on a TV remote. Xander stood motionless, not even breathing, and Timo and Mattei had frozen in the middle of a tug-of-war with a shared toy. I gaped in disbelief, never having imagined that even the Magic could do such a thing. When my eyes returned to Buster's face, his smug smirk had returned. “Don't worry, Moriah, they'll be fine. Here, sit, I insist.” He pulled out the kitchen chair for me, and I sat stiffly, resolved not to let my guard down again. He sat across from me and folded his hands in a professorial manner. “Now then, I suppose you'd like an explanation of the overlook spell first?”

“It sounds fairly self-explanatory,” I muttered.

Buster's smirk deepened. “Hmm, perhaps you are brighter than I thought. In any case, it is; self-explanatory, that is. It doesn't make me invisible exactly, but rather affects others' perceptions. Xander could look right at us right now-- well, if I unfroze him anyway-- and assume we are discussing Lilah's grades or the weather, or eating breakfast, whatever strikes his mind as the most likely explanation. I've been using this spell on him and his mother for years.”

“His mother? Then Bessie never knew?”

“About my powers?” Buster laughed loudly. “Good lord, no. That woman was dumber than the offspring she produced.”

I tried to hide my shock at Buster's insulting reference to his dead wife, but he was so self-absorbed he didn't even notice my reaction, instead barging on with his “explanation.”

“Anyway, you're probably wondering what exactly my end game is in all this, Moriah.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“To put it simply, Xander never fulfilled my expectations on a number of levels, but the most important one being magic.”

“Because he didn't have the gift?”

“Precisely. As if it weren't enough for the boy to be a shiftless lump of a good-fer-nothin' mooch, he was a complete idiot in the magic department too. Bessie and I tried for years, but we never could bring another child into the world. So I thought my lineage was done for. Then you came along. Pretty, wanton thing that you were, how could my idiot son say no to you? 'Course, I disapproved of the whole thing just to encourage it, and the boy bought it hook, line, and sinker, and came straight to you after I kicked him out, just like I knew he would.”

I looked up and noticed a fly paused in mid-flight above the table. I reached up and nudged it with my finger and it fell to the table, then crawled an inch or so before taking flight and pausing again a few feet away. Buster watched me with mild interest. “Area of effect, my dear,” he explained when I blinked in surprise at the fly's pause. I refocused on him.

“Why would you want Xander to be with me?” I asked, confused.

“I'm coming to that,” he said, grinning. “Anyway, I made Bessie leave you two alone, because I know my son, and as long as he had his mommy to go running back to, he wasn't ever gonna grow up and start acting like a man, and I'd never get the child I needed.”

“Child?” I echoed, sudden horror spreading through me like ice and making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Of course, what else do you think I'd need a nice fertile young woman like you for?” he asked, giving me a lascivious look that made my skin crawl. “I would've taken you for myself if I thought I could still shoot straight, but I'm a bit too old for that now.”

I shuddered, pressing my lips together to avoid screaming at him. The evidence of his astounding power was holding the house in limbo around me and I couldn't afford to let anything, even righteous fury, endanger my family. “How did you know I would... be the right one?” I asked quietly a moment later.

“Oh I knew you had the power before I even saw you. I felt it the moment you stepped into my house that first day. You may not have done much with it besides conjuring fruit, but you're full of untapped potential, Moriah. I was pretty sure you were the girl for the job. Anyway.” He sat back, folding his hands across his stomach and studying me.

“The rest remains to be seen. You've gone above and beyond what I expected, and I must say I'm very pleased with the children you've borne thus far. You're quite the brood mare. It'll be a while before we know if any of them have the gift, but I'm optimistic. Little Lilah, especially, has worlds of potential.”

“What do you want with my children?” I breathed, my fury barely contained.

Buster shook his head and sighed, a condescending smile on his face. “Moriah, Moriah, must I explain everything?” he asked. I frowned, waiting. “All the great masters need one thing. An apprentice.”

An... apprentice? I shuddered again. “For what?” I asked.

“Well, to carry on my work after I'm gone of course,” Buster explained. “I may be powerful, but even I can't live forever.”

“What work?”

He smirked again. “Ah, see, now that's a tale for another time.” I heard a low rumble and he laid his hand on his stomach. “Mmm, it's definitely getting' on breakfast time. What do you think about pancakes?” he asked, standing. I watched him warily, not moving as he crossed to the fridge and started pulling out ingredients like he lived here, which-- of course-- he did, now. “Oh, and Moriah, my dear,” he said, turning to me as an afterthought. “Do yourself a favor and don't go tryin' to tell Xander about anything that's happened just now. He won't believe you, and even if he did, it'd be a simple thing to erase every memory of you and your children from his empty head.”

Then with a flick of his hand, the room returned to life and the noisy laughter of the children flooded back in on my ears. I sat staring at Buster's back in stunned horror as he got out a skillet pan and placed it on the stove. Timo came toddling over and grasped his pant leg, tugging. “Eat, gwampa!” he said, looking hopefully at the box of pancake mix on the counter.

“That's what we're about to do, Timo,” Buster said, ruffling a hand in his grandson's hair. “I hope you're hungry because Grandpa's making a special breakfast! Blueberry pancakes!” Timo nodded enthusiastically, and I could only watch.

Who was this man I had let into my home, and into my children's lives? And how could I make him leave?