The Sorceress by Allison Hobbs Page B

Carmen’s eyes held compassion. Her job was easy compared to Jen’s.
    Jen looked up from the newspaper. “Yes, thank you.” She forced a smile, though she felt aggravated and caged being stuck in the house with eerie Ethan while his parents jetted around the country without a care.
    Carmen and the day maid, Lizzy, didn’t even have a high school education; yet, their jobs were cushy compared to Jen’s. Carmen had three days off every week and Lizzy left each day promptly at four.
    But Jen was trapped day in and day out with Ethan. No one enjoyed being there. Not even the child’s own parents. Ethan’s presence was stifling and oppressive. The elegant residence surrounded by mature trees and manicured grounds seemed more like a penitentiary than a stately manor.
    Jen was working around the clock. Why? A sense of obligation? No! She wanted to prove her loyalty and gain SenatorProvost’s respect. She wanted him to realize she was completely competent. Not to mention, she wanted him to flirt with her a little and then assist her in ending the sex drought. Jen laughed to herself.
    The crush she had on the senator involved sexual fantasies, but she’d never act on them. She wasn’t the type to get involved with a married man. Her thing for the senator was her personal secret.
    â€œThe boy hasn’t touched his breakfast,” Lizzy said, as she stood on a short ladder, wiping in circular motions as she polished the grandfather clock to a high shine. Ethan was prone to exhibiting violent reactions to the sound of his own name, and the staff, and even his parents, tried to avoid referring to him by his given name.
    â€œEat your breakfast,” Jen said half-heartedly and without bothering to look up.
    â€œDo you think he’d rather have cereal?” Carmen inquired.
    Jen shrugged. This time she didn’t raise her eyes from the newspaper. She didn’t care what Ethan ate. It wasn’t in her job description to force-feed the little creep.
    â€œMaybe he’s thirsty,” Lizzy suggested.
    â€œDrink your juice, kid,” Jen said, dryly; her face buried in the newspaper. A rustling sound from overhead drew her attention. Lizzy gave her a wink as she dug inside the deep pocket of her big wool sweater. She pulled out a white plastic bag and tossed it to Jen. “Miniature straws,” she explained. “Got ’em at the dollar store.”
    Jen opened the pack and pulled out a straw. She looked at the bright red stripes and festive balloons and smirked. “Wow, this should put a big smile on the kid’s face,” Jen said sarcastically.
    â€œYou never know,” Lizzy said defensively. “Those balloonsand bright colors might make his juice seem more appealing.”
    â€œI doubt it.” Jen rose reluctantly from her seat. She went over to Ethan and tugged out the clear, ordinary straw that came attached to the side of the package of apple juice and replaced it with the colorful straw.
    Ethan didn’t move a muscle. He maintained a blank stare. Jen picked up the juice box and shook it in his face, enticingly.
    Ethan finally reacted, but he didn’t reach for the juice. He recoiled, tightening his lips.
    â€œOkay, kid, you win. You don’t have to work yourself into a fit.” Jen quickly set the apple juice down and made a face at Lizzy.
    Lizzy held a hand up in surrender. “I tried.” She turned around and resumed shining the clock.
    â€œThat child is possessed,” Carmen whispered, running a finger over the silver cross that hung from her neck. Jen chuckled. “I spoke to my priest about the things he does—”
    â€œYou didn’t!” Lizzy sounded shocked. “You know Ms. Provost doesn’t want—”
    â€œThere’s no rule against a parishioner making a confession to her priest. My relationship with God has precedence over that piece of paper that woman made me sign.”
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