“Such as?”
“Well, the whole Wilcox thing, for one. I’m not saying my mother was a strong enough witch to sniff out a Wilcox the way Maya can, but she should have known my father was a warlock.”
“Maybe she did. It’s not exactly the sort of thing they would’ve been discussing around Linda Sanderson, after all.”
He had a point. Even so, I felt like I should press on. “But if my mother had known he was a warlock, wouldn’t she have wanted to know more about his family? I mean, part of the whole witch thing is your clan affiliation and all that.”
“Maybe he lied and said he was with the Santiagos or something.”
“Maybe,” I repeated, my tone dubious. Of course, I had no idea what my father had really looked like, except he was tall and dark-haired, so maybe he could’ve passed for one of the Santiagos. As I mulled that over, another thought struck me. “That could have been what their fight was about.”
“That she found out he was lying?”
“Yes, especially if she somehow discovered he was a Wilcox. I can’t think of too many other things that would make someone so angry that they’d kick out the father of their baby only a few days before the child was due.”
Connor didn’t reply immediately, but instead tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, apparently considering what I’d just said. “That makes sense, I suppose.”
“And it also explains why she would never say anything to my aunt about who my father was. I mean, if he really had been a Santiago or just some beach bum she’d picked up in Newport, then it wouldn’t have been so important to conceal his identity.”
No arguing from Connor on that one. He only gave a grim little nod, as if acknowledging his clan’s poor reputation. Now I knew it wasn’t that clear-cut, that there were people in the Wilcox family who were just as honorable as any McAllister, but twenty years ago the lines had been pretty clearly drawn. East was east and west was west, and all that. Those twain definitely didn’t meet…until my mother and Andre got together.
Would Aunt Rachel have agreed to take me in, raised me, if she’d known I was half Wilcox?
I wasn’t sure I wanted to think about that. I tried to tell myself of course she would, that she would never abandon her sister’s child…but I just didn’t know for sure. And maybe my mother had known, or at least guessed, and so made sure to keep her mouth shut.
Right then I almost wished her ghost had taken to haunting that tricky curve partway down the mountain. Then at least I could have gone to her and demanded some real information. But apparently she’d seen no reason to stick around. Her spirit was long gone, and I’d have to find my own answers.
“Another thing,” I began, and the setting sun flashed off Connor’s teeth as he grinned.
“Just one?”
“Well, I figured I’d start with this one.”
He gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, so I went on,
“I’m also trying to figure out what his game was.”
“Game?”
I shifted in my seat and glanced up at him, wondering if he was being disingenuous. “Come on, Connor — think about it. Supposedly he was engaged to Marie, and yet he dumped her for some unknown reason, went to California, and just magically met the runaway McAllister who was supposed to be the next prima…before she chickened out and disappeared.”
“Okay, if you put it that way….” Even so, he shrugged, then pushed the visor up and out of the way. The sun was low enough now that the visor wasn’t doing him much good. “Maybe things weren’t working out with Marie, so he took off.”
“Do people in your family have a history of taking off and going to California?”
“Well, no.”
“It’s almost as if he knew who my mother was, even if the reverse wasn’t true.”
“I think that may be stretching it a bit.”
I wasn’t so sure. After all, what were the odds that two members of warring witch clans would meet so far from home? Pretty high, even if witches had a way of sensing others with similar powers. “And what about Marie?” I asked.
“What about her?”
“Do you think she’ll talk to us about Andre?”
At that question he did look away from the road and over at me, frowning slightly. The last reddish light of the sun painted the outline of his profile, making him look like some god who’d condescended to share a ride with me. His next words, however, were far from godlike. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure she’ll be plenty happy to tell us everything about the guy who dumped her more than twenty years ago.”