Free Making Magic by Donna June Cooper Page B

there’s a lot of good-old-boy type corruption around here,” Mel said.
    “It’s the peril of elected office. You’re under constant pressure to campaign and keep your contributors happy, while fighting for better equipment and trying to keep people in the county safe,” Grace said. “He’s been good for the county. Most of the people really want him to stick around.”
    “Oh, look! They finished with the fairy lights on the gazebo,” Mel exclaimed.
    Grace turned her attention back to the garden. “It’s all perfect, Mel. Those lights and lanterns are the crowning touch.”
    “I hope so. I never knew there were so many little details you had to handle.”
    “From what I’ve heard, the only thing you have to get right is the actual marriage, Thea chimed in. “The rest of it is just icing.” Grace nodded her agreement.
    Thea remembered the question she had asked before she was distracted. “Speaking of little details, why a Wednesday wedding? Is that something Italian?”
    Mel laughed. “No. Saturday is the big day over there, like everywhere else. Wednesday is for my mom and dad. They have commitments every weekend until almost Christmas and they’re sticklers for keeping their promises.”
    “So those festivals where they perform are only on weekends?”
    “Usually,” Mel explained. “Sometimes longer if there’s a holiday.”
    “Where are they now?”
    “Spokane. Or they were. Actually, right about now they should be in Wisconsin.”
    “They’re driving from Washington state?” Thea said in disbelief. “Are they afraid of flying?” Like Jake, although his was more of a control issue than a phobia.
    Mel laughed. “No, not at all. They have to be in New York this coming weekend anyway, and they need their trailer, so we’re kind of on the way.”
    Grace laughed.
    “I said ‘kind of’.”
    “Another festival?” asked Thea.
    “A really big one. The New York Renaissance Faire in Tuxedo—about an hour north of New York City.” There was a touch of longing in Mel’s voice.
    “Do you miss performing?” Thea said.
    “A little. Mostly it’s seeing new places, meeting new people,” Mel said. “I love to travel. Luckily, so does Daniel.”
    “The way you two met, I suppose traveling is part of the deal,” Thea said.
    “Absolutely. But one of the best parts of going somewhere new is coming home.”
    “And this place has never looked better,” Thea said. “It is amazing what some tender loving care can do.”
    The whole house was a delight, a mixture of old and new styles, but still lovingly decorated to acknowledge its historical significance. And the porches were wonderful. Mel clearly loved wind chimes.
    “Restoring it—actually cleaning up the entire hollow—was kind of cathartic for everyone,” Grace said. “But Mel and Daniel have done a great job redecorating the interior.”
    Thea was determined not to mention the Taggarts or what had happened to Pops because of them. Today and tomorrow had to be all about wedding, wedding, wedding. But Grace had promised Thea that afterwards she would take her up to the cave that their Granny Lily had used as a workshop long ago. The Taggarts had been using it as a meth lab when Nick and Grace discovered it, but much of the original workshop had survived.
    Thea looked up the ridge to the clearing where Mel and Daniel had brought down two Italian thugs bent on stopping Mel from publishing a story about deadly corporate misconduct. The mountain had seen its share of excitement this past year.
    “There are some challenges with a house this old,” Mel admitted. “But the basic structure was solid and the Taggarts hadn’t done too much damage.”
    The two-story Victorian farmhouse had been built at the end of the nineteenth century, but the house that Grace and Nick lived in on the other side of the ridge was firmly rooted in the twenty-first. It looked Victorian, but Pops had built it to take advantage of green technology and made the