Charlie slammed the door on Auntie Bea. Heard the boys start to cry and winced. Consequences. But Allie and Graham would be fine. Allie anchored second circle and she’d stood up to the aunties for Charlie’s sake before. And if the aunties tried to use either Jack or Graham for leverage, they’d be reminded of who’d sent Jack’s mother home. Oh, yeah, Allie could handle the aunties.

But Charlie couldn’t stay. Not if she ever wanted to come back.

She paused at the bottom of the stairs to pull her boots on. Glanced at the mirror as she passed to see two golden dragons. With little experience judging the age of dragons, she assumed that the length of the mustaches meant one of the Jacks was significantly older. “If wishes were horses,” she muttered. The mirror’s heart was in the right place, but seeing what she couldn’t have wasn’t helping.

A familiar voice drew her gaze into the store. Elbows on the glass counter, Joe watched Dan do looping tricks with a pair of yoyos. Dan was definitely cleaner than he’d been and looked to be wearing about half the clothes. He glanced up at her, frowned, and said, “Remember the bears, Charlie.”

When Joe turned toward her, she tried for a sympathetic smile. The look on his face suggested she was a little pitchy. “Don’t go upstairs for a while.”

He nodded toward the painting of Elvis on black velvet. “You’re not the first to be telling me that.”

*   *   *

Charlie stepped out of the ornamental border and dropped down on the teak lounge next to Auntie Catherine’s. “You Saw this.”

“Can you think of another reason I’d be sitting by a hotel pool at six in the morning? Alone,” she amended after a moment. She nodded at the glass-topped table between them. “The coffee’s yours.”

The cardboard cup had been charmed to stay hot. Fortunately, Charlie could care less about how long ago it had been brewed. “This isn’t Vegas. Where are we?”

“Los Angeles. There’s a singer/songwriter I enjoy who’s playing at the Hotel Cafe on Friday and I dislike changing time zones at the last minute.” Her bracelets chimed softly as she twitched a fold of her batik skirt then chimed significantly louder at a get on with it gesture. “So, talk.”

Charlie pulled off the lid and stared at her reflection in the coffee. “Auntie Bea said I was like you, too big for the family. And now I think of it . . .” She looked up to see Auntie Catherine watching her, wearing what seemed to be an interested expression. “. . . that’s a weird way of putting it. Too big?”

“Our circle is larger . . .”

“Oh, dear lord, I feel a Disney song coming on.”

“. . . making the family a subset of the Wild,” Auntie Catherine continued, ignoring her. “Socrates is a cat. All cats are not Socrates.”