Wart

  Sammi, though, was disappointed. She sent him an e-mail while he was in Hawaii. "Poor Stewart, dragged off to Hawaii by his wicked stepmother-to-be! Breaks my heart! Wow! Maybe next time your cousin will get invited too. How are Rachel and Ham?"

  Stewart had lots to tell Rachel and Ham about the trip. They were sitting in the sunroom watching Georgia and Spot playing in the backyard. After Stewart had talked what for him was a long time, he blurted out the story of his talk with Martha. "I just can't seem to forget that Ms. Gibbs moved here to do Martha a favor." He got up from his place on the wicker chair and began to pace. "I mean the woman might be a real witch. Why would Martha need her to move here?"

  "Beats me," said Ham. Rachel didn't say anything, just turned her head away.

  "What?" said Stewart. "Come on, Rach. You've got an idea. Don't you?"

  "You know, Stew." She turned back to face him. "Or at least you would if you thought about the whole thing logically."

  "Tell me," he said.

  She sighed. "Martha always wanted to marry your father, but you didn't want a stepmother, right?" Stewart nodded, and she went on. "So Martha calls in her friendly witch friend, who puts big-time moves on your dad. He falls under her spell." She shrugged and held her hands out, palms up. "Compared to Wanda Witch, Martha suddenly seems to you like the best thing that could happen to your dad." She snapped her fingers, "And poof, Wanda disappears just in time for your dad and Martha to get married."

  "But they aren't married," Stewart said.

  "They will be. We all know that, and we all know your dad would never have married her or anyone else you couldn't accept. I don't think even Ms. Gibbs and her spell could have actually pulled that off."

  Stewart slumped back into his chair, dropping his head to rest his face in his hands. Ham reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

  "We don't have to talk about it, Stew," said Rachel. "You don't even have to think about it. Just let the whole thing go."

  "Go," said Ham. "That's a great idea! Let's go to the movies. School starts back tomorrow."

  At the theater, Rachel and Ham discussed which of the three movies they should see. Stewart stared, unseeing, at the movie poster in front of him. "Doesn't matter to me," he said, and he thought about the seating arrangement. Sometimes lately he had felt something strange, almost uncomfortable, when he was close to Rachel. Ham and Rachel settled on a movie that was supposed to be funny. Stewart hung back silently, behind them. Inside, Rachel chose an empty row of seats and started in. She would go to the center, where she liked to sit. Ham was next in line, but he stepped aside and motioned for Stewart to follow Rachel. Stewart shrugged and went in. Well, the movie was a comedy, so being beside Rachel would be fun. They always laughed at the same things.

  Stewart slid down in the seat and held the popcorn so that both Ham and Rachel could reach it. The movie was funny, lots of good lines. During a comic car race, Stewart and Rachel both moved forward as they laughed. Their bodies met at the armrest, and an almost electric sensation shot through Stewart. Suddenly neither of them was laughing. They were looking at each other, and Stewart knew. He knew that Rachel felt the electricity, too, and he knew something he had not known before. Now he knew it was okay. His relationship with Rachel was changing, and that was okay. He felt no pressure, no need to consult Sammi for advice, no need to make any declarations, at least not yet. For right now, just knowing was enough. There was, though, one question he needed to ask.

  Ham's sister picked them up after the movie. She stopped the car in front of Rachel's house and Rachel got out, yelling back her good-byes. Stewart put his hand on the door, but he didn't open it immediately. "Hey," he said to Ham, "I got to ask you something. Back there at the movie, why'd you make me sit next to Rachel?"

  Ham laughed. "You got to ask? Man, don't you know anything? Rach is crazy about you. It's been that way a long time."

  Stewart waved dismissively. "I thought you might have some wild idea like that. You're nuts!" He got out of the car and smiled all the way into the house and up to his room.

  Rachel was right about the marriage. It happened in the spring. Stewart's father asked him to be the best man. Georgia was the junior bridesmaid, wearing the pink dress Ms. Gibbs had made for her. Martha had never been married before, and she wanted a formal ceremony with lots of guests.

  It was a beautiful wedding, and it would have been perfect if only Stewart had been just slightly less observant. He was standing beside his father watching Martha as she came in to walk down the aisle. It was just an instant that she turned to the right and smiled. Stewart looked to her right too. The only light came from candles that produced shadows. He almost didn't see them standing in the doorway. He almost missed Ozgood and Ms. Gibbs, her fingers forming the victory sign. Steady, he told himself. It would not look good if the best man fainted at the altar.