Free Do You Believe in Magic? by Ann Macela

said, arching her back to take full advantage of his caress.
    John “Bent” Benthausen opened the door with a big smile for his brother-in-law. “Come on in. We’re back here.” The tall, auburn-haired man led the way to the kitchen.
    “Hi!” Two green-eyed women greeted Clay as he walked in. They put down the cooking implements they had been using, and both gave him a hug at the same time.
    “Hi, yourselves,” Clay said as he returned the hug. He leaned back and surveyed his two sisters. They looked so much alike, so like their mother, he thought again as he always did when seeing them together after the passage of time between visits. The only major differences were that Gloriana was a little taller and her dark hair much longer, past her shoulder blades, in fact, while Daria’s short curls danced whenever she shook her head.
    “Something smells good,” Clay said, sniffing the air as he released them.
    “Roast chicken,” Daria stated as the timer dinged. “And it’s time to baste.” She put on oven mitts and, opening the oven, pulled out the pot. First she poured sherry over the browning bird, then used a baster to suck up the drippings and squirt them over the chicken. “I’m trying a new recipe for stuffing,” she told Clay, “with apples and pecans and raisins. No bread.”
    “But lots of sherry,” Bent interjected. “She soaked the raisins in the stuff.”
    “Does Mother know about this?” Clay asked as he stole a piece of the tomato Gloriana was cutting for salad.
    “She will as soon as I get home,” Gloriana said. “We concocted the recipe yesterday.”
    “Sounds good.” Clay smiled a thank-you at Bent’s handing him a glass of wine. “So, how have you been, Glori? How’re the plants and your classes and all?”
    “Fine. The farm’s doing well, the university is its usual self, and my botany classes are full,” Gloriana replied, as she scraped the tomatoes off the cutting board into the salad bowl. “I have a couple of very promising graduate students this year.”
    “Didn’t I see your name in W 2 ? Some sort of letter to the editor about how to cast spells?”
    “Oh, that was in response to an article by a theoretical mathematician who wants to reduce spell-casting to a strict formula. He claims casting never emerged from the Middle Ages. Shows how much he knows, stuck in his ivory tower. I attempted to set him right.”
    “If anybody can do it, it’s you,” Clay laughed.
    “I’m sure he’s one of those with no respect for our history or knowledge of practical conjuring. You know how these theory guys have their heads in the sky,” Gloriana stated as she put the salad in the refrigerator.
    Daria interrupted. “Let’s take this discussion into the family room. The chicken needs to cook about a half an hour longer.” She picked up a tray of munchies and led the way.
    The conversation over hors d’oeuvres and dinner covered Gloriana’s writings and other articles in W 2 , The Witches and Warlocks Journal ; Bent’s reorganization of his finance department, sans criminals; Daria’s latest consulting work; and finally, Clay’s hacker investigation.
    Daria brought up the latter subject as they finished dessert and coffee. “How’s Francie and the big sting?” she asked.
    Clay noted the expression of conspiracy and glee on her face but couldn’t fathom what was behind it. Why such a look when talking about a hacker? “She’s fine. She’s being a big help. She’s still bothered about her friend, but she’s going ahead with the plan. The sting is progressing.”
    “What are you talking about?” Gloriana interjected.
    Clay told her the story of the hacker and the plan for catching him.
    “And you’re pretending to date this Francie to get close to the hacker?” Gloriana asked.
    “Sort of,” Clay answered, thinking that pretense was rapidly becoming reality.
    “You ought to see her, Glori,” Daria said to her sister. “She’s about six feet tall, blond,