Single Witch's Survival Guide by Mindy Klasky Page A

working, but then he headed toward the treeline behind the garage.
    I frowned and wiped my hands on a towel. “Okay everyone. You have your marching orders. Neko should be over shortly, to help you all get settled in your new rooms.” I called Spot from his hopeful post beside the table and ducked out of the kitchen before anyone could ask questions.
    At least the walk through the woods was soothing. My feet knew the trail without my providing any conscious thought. Oak trees arched overhead, the tips of their branches meeting like the vault of a cathedral ceiling. I barely registered the presence of squirrels and birds, the constant scurry of forest life at the edges of my sight and hearing. Sunlight dappled the ground, painting an ever-changing canvas beneath my feet.
    Spot took point as often as he lagged behind. It was apparently hard work, keeping track of all the smells in the forest, but he made a valiant effort. Likewise, he embraced his duty of marking half the trees along the path.
    Even though I knew the way, I was still surprised by the panorama as I stepped out of the sheltering forest. A lake stretched to the horizon, its still water mirroring the overcast sky above. A spray of sand arched around the shoreline, testament to some long-ago property owner who had dreamed of a true waterside retreat. A ramshackle boating shed nestled on the edge of the beach. I knew from past experience that it held a canoe and a couple of kayaks, life preservers, and a handful of beach chairs in varying stages of collapse.
    I loved this lake. The water was perfectly still until a fish broke the surface, telegraphing its coded message in a flow of concentric rings. Reeds whispered on the shore, first as lush springtime grass, then as summer-dried stalks. Animals drank from the water and left their tracks in the wet sand, and ospreys nested in the lightning-shocked oak closest to the shore, calling to each other with their high-pitched cries.
    The lake brought together all the elemental aspects of my power—the earth of the shoreline, the air of the sky above, the fire of sunlight reflecting off cool, clear water. The lake made me whole.
    A dock was anchored on the sandy shore, and its weathered boards marched out over the water. David sat on the edge of the platform, staring out at the peaceful scene, looking like a painting by Edward Hopper.
    He turned to watch as Spot ran along the shore, finding the perfect place to drink his fill from the lake. When the Lab shook his head to clean his muzzle, water droplets turned into rainbows. Spot made a visual survey of the entire beach, before he turned three times and sank onto the end of the dock. Settling his jowls on his front paws, he began the serious business of an afternoon nap.
    I stepped over the dog and walked out to David. He shifted to his left as I approached, making room for me. I sank down beside him, leaning my head on his shoulder as his arm circled my waist. I closed my eyes against the sunlight sparkling off the water, realizing how deeply tired I was, how little I had slept the night before.
    I forced myself to complete a long exhale, trying my best to get rid of all of my frustration and fear. “I hope your morning went better than mine.”
    He grunted, a response that could have meant anything at all, and then he asked, “What happened?”
    I gave him the five-minute summary of our failed working, wrapping up with my decisions about the new accommodations. We both winced over the slight matter of impending bankruptcy at the hands of Neko’s decorating binge. “How about you?” I asked. “Did you really have a meeting? Or were you just trying to get away from Candid Camera and BBC Presents ?”
    “The meeting was real.” His voice stayed mild, but I felt him pull away from me, even though he didn’t move a muscle.
    I was the one who leaned back. “What’s going on?”
    He ran a hand through his hair, a rare gesture of unease. “Your mother’s generous,