ignored it, rejoicing, as a searing empathy welled in her heart. Lizard had been hers from the moment they'd met, all defiantly lovable five feet of her - but somehow, she'd never quite been able to feel that same connection with Elsie. Jennie had no idea why a flour explosion and a miserable excuse for a cake had finally done it, but they had. She didn't need pendants, emails, or bat signals in the sky. Her heart would know the way now.
She closed her eyes in gratitude - and beamed a bat signal of her own to Caro next door. Elsie and I will bake Helga's cake. Put away whatever gorgeous creation you've made.
It was a measure of true friendship that Caro instantly agreed - no questions asked.
Jennie opened her eyes. "A cake can't be all that hard. How about I be your intrepid assistant, and we give it another try?"
Elsie looked askance at the cake in her hands. "Are you a good baker? I think I need more than an assistant."
"No, my dear." Jennie felt the laughter rolling up from her toes. "I'm an awful baker. But I can absolutely, totally promise you - in these parts, it's the thought that will count."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
To: veronica.liantro@witchlight.org
From: Jennie Adams
Subject: A fascinating morning.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Dear Vero,
I met with both my students this morning, and you are already correct. Today will not go quietly.
One of Lizard's professors has noticed her talent, and she's ready to run screaming into the night because of it, holding tight to her chains with both hands. Which might sound less empathetic than I mean it to be. I was there - she's scared down to her toes.
I pushed as much as I dared. I know all too well that nothing makes you cling tighter to those chains than someone else trying to cast them off for you. If Melvin's got a bravery-boosting spell in his back pocket, Lizard could use one right about now.
I know I often leave Elsie until last in these updates. Today, it is finally for the right reasons. Whatever sat in my heart and made it hard for me to truly love this girl has fled, chased off by one marginally passable cake and enough flour to turn half of Berkeley white. I guess I can finally stop being ashamed of the guide I've been for her.
I know I've done well enough by her. And by any standards I know, that's not nearly good enough. She deserves my best - and now I know I'll be able to give it. Today, we were magnificent.
All my love,
Jennie
It was the first time she was jumping on Freddie's bus without fare in a long time. Maybe he'd take money instead of biscuits. Lizard dug in her pocket, hoping she had some change chasing around somewhere.
"Since when do you pay to get on my bus, girlie?" Freddie looked seriously indignant.
Oops. "Sorry. I don't have any biscuits today. I can afford to pay, though - I have a good job now."
"Course you do. And that ain't gonna change the rules any at all. You go have a seat and tell me a story or two, same as always." He pulled the door shut behind her and grinned. "You can bring me two biscuits next time. And a word. I haven't had a new word in weeks."
That much she could give him. "'Vacillating.' It means someone who can't make up her mind."
"One of those days, huh?" He waved her back. "Out of my doorway, girlie."
Lizard sat in a seat just off to the side, glad the front of the bus was empty. She was well aware she'd come to the guy who'd always given her straight advice, most of it pretty decent. "So I'm taking a class at the college now."
Freddie raised an eyebrow. "You get that high school diploma while I wasn't looking?" It had always been a point of contention between them.
"Nope. But a friend of my boss helped me get into the campus downtown. Taking a couple of classes."
"That's good, girlie. Real good. You come ride so I can help you with your homework?"
He'd helped with plenty in the past, right after giving her grief because it