"Taking cuttings always clears my mind," she murmured. "Quick, name the plants you see."
It was an old game she'd taught me ages ago, and it still made me smile. "Lemon verbena. Chamomile. Basil. Wolfs-bane." I slowly spun in a circle, pointing out every plant I could see in the moonlight around us.
Smiling, she nodded her head in approval, every bit as regal as a queen. "Now...back to what's eating you today. Want to talk about it?"
"Um, yeah, I guess. But don't get mad or anything, okay?"
She gave me a sharp look. "Okay, spit it out."
"Well, the Charmers are taking applications this week for managers. They're going to pick them this weekend then announce their picks next week."
"And you want to apply."
This was where it got tricky. "I...don't know."
She laughed quietly. "What don't you know about it? Are you unsure you want to do the job, or are you unsure you'd be allowed to do the job?"
"Uh, both?"
Smiling, she sat back on her heels. "Do the managers dance?"
"No. Well, I think sometimes they might get the chance to fill in as alternate dancers. But obviously I'd have to tell the director no if she asked me to."
Nanna nodded. "And the rest of the job...what would you be doing?"
"Helping the team at fundraisers, practices and performances. Probably a lot of fetching stuff, cleaning up the costume and prop closets. Putting out good-luck notes for the football and basketball players' lockers on game days. Stuff like that."
"And every day you'd watch them dancing?"
I nodded.
"Would that make you happy?"
I chewed my lower lip for a few seconds, then sighed. "Yes and no. It's as close as I could get to it, at least. And I wouldn't be breaking any rules, right?"
She nodded, tying a clump of plants together before tossing them into the basket.
"And...I guess I'd sort of be a part of the Charmers team."
Nanna didn't say anything for a long time as she gathered more herbs. Finally she sighed. "This situation your parents put you in...I always knew it would come to something like this, that it would be hard on you, and unfair."
Her words made my throat tighten. I swallowed hard to try and loosen it.
"I think if you can be okay with the not-dancing-yourself part, then you might like being a manager for the dance team. It'd give you something to do, like a hobby. Maybe it would open up other options for you, too."
"Like what?" I scowled down at the clippers in my hand, testing their spring-loaded squeeze action.
"Like becoming a dance-team director or choreographer someday. If dancing is still your thing then, of course. There are ways to be a part of the dancing world without personally dancing. There are always ways to deal with the rules life gives you. Just because you can't have one thing in life doesn't mean you have to give it all up."
I looked at her with one eyebrow raised.
She raised her hands. "I'm just saying, is all."
"So you think I should do it?"
Slowly she rose to her feet, her knees cracking and popping. I knew from repeated experience that she'd only get annoyed if I offered to help her up. Stubborn Evans women. "I'm saying you've got my permission if you want to apply. It's up to you as to whether you go for it or not."
"Gee, thanks for the help in deciding." I shot her a wry grin as we headed for the house.
"And thank you for all the help with the herbs back there." With an equally wry grin of her own, she nodded at the still mostly empty basket hanging from my forearm.
I laughed. "Sorry. I was too busy thinking."
At the door, she patted my shoulder. "If you do decide to apply and need help with the application, let me know."
"Thanks, Nanna."
She opened the patio door, and we went inside. After we put away the cutting tools on a shelf near the door, she took the baskets of clippings and set to work hanging them to dry over the kitchen sink. I helped her tie my loose clippings into bunches with bits of green and blue yarn she had left over from old crochet projects. Then we got to the last bunch.
With a naughty grin that gave glimpses of the mischievous young girl she probably was once upon a time, Nanna waved a finger as if it were a magic wand, and the cuttings drifted to the window and tied themselves into place.
Who knew my grandma was so cool?
Grinning, I went to my room, flopped on my bed and pictured again the seemingly effortless way she had used magic right there in front of me, like it was as easy as breathing for her. There was no telling what else she could do, too. Did she use magic to make tea or cook or crochet when I wasn't around? She could definitely get a lot more done and faster that way. It had to be frustrating, or at the very least boring, for her to resist using it even when I could see.
If I could do magic, I'd do it all the time...to finish my homework, to help untangle and style my hair.
Maybe on the Brat Twins and Dylan, too.
Which of course was why I wasn't allowed to do magic.
Stupid rules.
But Nanna said the rules didn't have to stop me from doing everything. Like being a Charmers manager. The Clann and the vamps never said I couldn't do that. And the Clann kids seemed to prefer to rule the cheerleading squads instead of dancing, because not a single descendant was a Charmer. Maybe it was easier for them to get away with using magic in cheerleading without being so obvious?
Then again, from what little I'd seen and heard about the Charmers director, Mrs. Daniels, maybe the real reason no descendants ever made the team was because she wouldn't let them. She seemed like the type of person who wanted total control over her team. And everyone knew how the descendants' parents had a habit of taking over everything their kids were involved in.
Whatever the reason, the Charmers was a Clann-free zone. And that was reason enough for me to want to be a part of it in any way I could. If I could handle watching others dance without feeling miserable all the time.
After a few minutes of lying on the bed feeling restless, I gave in to the urge, dug the application out of my backpack and read over it. And felt my jaw drop.
I'd expected one of those simple forms that asked the usual boring questions about me...name, address, phone number, my hobbies and interests, maybe job skills or a short essay or two.