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I’ll believe in the Easter Bunny after this.” She held it out to Betsy, who shook her head.
    “I’ll drink the tea, but I’m not gonna smoke that.” She fanned at the smoke, feeling light-headed from having to breathe the haze that filled Clarice’s tiny kitchen.
    Ida watched as Clarice dropped her concoction into a metal ball, then set it in a cup of steaming water to steep. “Shouldn’t we make Morgan and Jaclyn drink the tea?”
    Clarice shook her head. “We have to cast the spell.” She took the joint from Ida and took another hit. “Does wonders for arthritis, Betsy, you should try it.” Clarice looked at Betsy over the top of her glasses and grinned. “For medicinal purposes, of course.”
    “I’d prefer to just drink the tea. Harlan is suspicious of our gathering. He says I smell funny when I come home. I tell him it’s your homemade arthritis cream.”
    Ida snorted. “This is really dumb. Aren’t we…we…” Her eyes glassed over as she stared off into space.
    “It’s for Jaclyn,” Betsy argued, “can’t you just try, Ida? Pretend it will work.”
    Clarice shot Betsy a look. “You can’t pretend to believe.”
    “Believe what?” Ida asked blankly.
    “We believe in the potion and the power of love’s magic.” Clarice nodded. “Right, Ida?”
    “Oh, yeah.” Ida took another puff from the joint.
    Clarice removed the ball and scooted the cup in front of Betsy, who picked it up and sniffed at it. She made a terrible face and whispered, “For Jaclyn,” before she took a sip. “Dear God,” Betsy rasped as she moved the cup in front of Ida.
    Without hesitation, Ida picked up the cup and took a drink that she struggled to swallow. “Why did y’all make me drink cat piss?”
    “Potion,” Clarice corrected, then lifted the cup to her own lips. When she had drained the liquid, she took Betsy’s and Ida’s hands. “We believe in the power of the potion, we believe in love, for it has come to White Oak Lane—”
    “Lake,” Betsy interjected.
    “Wherever we are,” Clarice said with her eyes clamped shut. “Love has come to claim our Jaclyn. May Morgan…” She opened one eye and looked at Betsy. “What’s her last name?”
    “Chassion,” Betsy whispered as though she were afraid to disturb whoever was listening.
    Clarice closed her eye and continued, “May Morgan Chassion be strong in body, soul, and mind. Let her heart be pure and kind. Let her face stir desire in our young sister. Let her be all these things so Jaclyn cannot resist her. So be it.”
    “So be it,” Betsy and Ida repeated.
    Betsy wasn’t sure what was in the potion, but she suspected catnip because Clarice was partial to using it for just about everything and extolled its healthy virtues often. Her cats were nip addicts. Betsy hid her smile behind her hand as she listened to her two best friends discuss the best herbs for the female libido.
    Clarice considered herself a naturalist; she grew herbs and most of her own food. But lately, she’d decided that she was also psychic, a notion probably brought on by the herb she liked to smoke. She made predictions like Ida’s cat was going to have kittens, the price of gas was going to go up again, and Chet was going to have a bumper crop of tomatoes. Of course, all of these things were correct, but anyone with half a brain would’ve been able to predict that, as well. But Clarice had told them that someone new was coming to White Oak Lake, and Morgan most certainly had.
    Betsy didn’t put any stock in ethereal powers, but their secret meetings were fun, so much better than playing bridge. And the romantic notion that they somehow could be responsible for bringing someone special into Jaclyn’s life by mixing potions was just too exciting not to toy with. Betsy was certain it was just a silly game, but some part of her did believe that well wishes of loved ones did have a magic all their own. And a little catnip didn’t hurt.

CHAPTER 5

    M organ’s