Hedgewitchin' in the Kitchen

by Sarina Dorie

  People sat at booths eating. Pictures of Italian food hung on the walls. The décor was familiar, the corporate mandate of chain restaurants making this one look like every other Olive Garden I had been to.

  Yet it wasn’t just any Olive Garden. I was certain it was the same one in Clackamas that Derrick and I had gone to the night of homecoming. I shrank back from Thatch. Was this Thatch? Or Derrick in disguise?

  Thatch’s brows furrowed together. “Will this do?”

  I gazed at the bathroom where Missy had tried to kill me. My stomach cramped.

  “Shall we ask for a booth or table?” he asked.

  I looked down at myself just to make sure my clothes hadn’t transformed into a white dress that made me look like a fairy princess. I still wore my black skirt and striped leggings. That was a relief.

  “What?” Thatch asked.

  “Why did you bring me here? Really?” I expected him to say to torture me. Or to remind me of my dating failures.

  His face was perplexed. “It’s Italian. They should have pizza. Or am I incorrect?”

  Did he truly not know what he’d done? His brows rose as he stared into my face, waiting for an answer.

  “They probably have pizza here,” I said.

  Thatch started toward a table. I grabbed his sleeve. “You can’t just sit anywhere. We have to go to the waiting area, and the hostess seats us.”

  He grimaced. “They’ll serve us more quickly if we sit down.”

  “There’s a way they do things here in the Morty Realm. There are rules.”

  “You’re going to teach me about rules and rituals after you resisted the rules of the Unseen Realm for so long?” A sardonic smile curved the corners of his lips upward. “Very well, lead the way.”

  He followed me to the front entrance, bucket in hand. It was a Saturday night, but there wasn’t a line, and there weren’t many people eating, which probably meant it was close to closing. Had I really been painting until nine or ten at night?

  The hostess who greeted us smiled politely, but her eyes darted to the bucket in Thatch’s hand. “Well, what have you got there?” she asked him.

  “A bucket.” One imperious eyebrow lifted as if to say, “Duh.”

  “He’s carrying it for me,” I said. “It’s like a purse—and just like my purse, it has nothing in it.” I meant it as a joke, but I realized I hadn’t brought my purse. I hadn’t brought my wallet or any money.

  She laughed and shrugged. We followed her to the dining area.

  I leaned toward Thatch. “I didn’t bring my wallet.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll just hypnotize the waitress, and she’ll bring things to us for free.” The wicked grin on his face told me he had no moral problem with using magic for his own personal gain.

  “That isn’t right,” I whispered. “You can’t not pay people.”

  “Table or booth?” the hostess asked.

  “Table,” I said.

  “Booth,” Thatch said.

  The hostess looked from him to me. I sighed in exasperation. This was like every moment of every day between us.

  “Table,” Thatch conceded.

  The hostess gestured to a table. Thatch drew out a chair and waited behind it. I stared wide-eyed. Was that a gentlemanly gesture? He smiled.

  I sat down, and he pushed the chair in. Now I knew something strange was going on.

  Was this a date? It couldn’t be a date. I was dating Elric. But Thatch was being thoughtful and considerate, and that just wasn’t his nature.

  The hostess handed us menus. “Your server will be right with you,” she said before leaving.

  Thatch set the bucket on the chair beside him. He calmly opened the menu and scanned the options as if nothing was amiss. “Oh, look. They have tiramisu. I wonder if it’s any good.”

  Derrick and I had shared a tiramisu the night of homecoming.

  I tried to focus on the menu in front of me, but I couldn’t. “Why did you really bring me here?”

  He laced his fingers together in front of him. “You were hungry.”

  “You’re pretending to be nice, but I can’t figure out why.”

  “I’m not pretending.”

  “What’s the lesson you’re trying to teach me?”

  “There’s no lesson. Can’t I not have a motive to be nice to you?”

  “No.”

  He grinned. It unnerved me.

  The waitress came. She brought a basket of breadsticks and our waters. “Are you ready to order?” she asked.

  Thatch gave me a pointed look. I hadn’t examined the menu, but I didn’t need to. I always got the same thing at the Olive Garden.

  “I’ll have the lasagna,” I said.

  “I thought you wanted pizza,” Thatch said.

  Maybe I should have gotten pizza. Was it a sign that bad things were going to happen if I ordered the same meal as my last date here?

  Thatch spoke to the waitress, but I didn’t hear him. I kept thinking about Derrick. Was I just reliving my history, repeating the same mistakes over and over again? Is that what Thatch was trying to tell me?

  “Clarissa, you look ill.” Thatch pushed the basket of breadsticks toward me. “Eat something. It might make you feel better.”

  “You’re doing this to torture me, aren’t you?”

  His eyes widened in genuine surprise. “What are you talking about? Is this about the pizza? Just because you didn’t want it, didn’t mean I couldn’t order it.” He studied me, quiet, pensive.

  “We’re at the Clackamas Promenade, aren’t we? This is the same Olive Garden Derrick and I went to in high school on our one and only date. Why did you do this to me?” My voice rose and a couple at a booth nearby stared at me.

  Understanding crossed his face. “This isn’t Clackamas. We’re outside Seattle. I selected this restaurant because your mother told me it was your favorite restaurant.”

  Yeah, when I’d been twelve. When had he been talking to my fairy godmother? Christmas?

  “I didn’t know you came here with Derrick. . . .” His voice trailed off. “No, I did, but I’d forgotten.” His eyes were pitying. “I apologize.”

  “So this wasn’t meant to be a dig at my dating history?”

  “No.” He stretched an arm across the table and took my hands in his.

  The pressure of his fingers around mine sent a pleasant shiver through me. My body instantly responded to him, whether it was because of magic or because I needed human comfort so badly. The panic that had been rising in me subsided. It felt as though he had wicked all the fear in me away.

  His voice was low, almost a whisper. “I truly have been horrible to you if you think I would take you here to hurt you. I am sorry for that.”

  He squeezed my fingers and let go, sliding his hands back into his territory. “Do you want to leave? We can go somewhere else.”

  Why had I been so quick to jump to conclusions? He didn’t deserve that. And I didn’t deserve to keep punishing myself. My subconscious had been right that I would keep finding Derrick and Julian in every man I dated—or in this case—didn’t date, but had complicated feelings for. I needed to face my fears and get over my crazy hex-boyfriends.

  “No, I’m hungry.” I selected a breadstick and bit into the warm bread. “They’re already making our food. Let’s stay.”

  He picked out a breadstick and nibbled at it. At least I didn’t have to worry about Thatch turning into a dimwit over an abundance of electronics and abandoning me. I pushed the thought away. It wasn’t Elric’s fault his guards had left me, and he’d grown too weak for reason. He’d been trying to help me. I was sure he wouldn’t do something so foolish again.

  Thatch and I lapsed into silence. I watched the double date at the nearest table. A young woman my age draped an arm around her boyfriend affectionately. He kissed her cheek. They looked normal and happy.

  If I gave up all magic completely and lived in the Mo
rty Realm, I still wouldn’t ever be normal. I’d tried. Even when my memories had been suppressed, my subconscious had known. All I could do was move forward, keep learning, and master myself so that when I had regained my affinity, I would be ready for my full powers.

  Whether Elric knew it or not, he would probably be the person to help me with that. I just didn’t know how I could keep my affinity secret from him if I did. Or if I needed to. If he loved me, would it matter what my affinity was?

  I turned back to find Thatch watching me. Heat flushed to my cheeks. I knew he couldn’t read minds, but from the inquiring spark in his eyes, he made me worry that he could.

  “I saw your invitation to the art show in my box. That isn’t a lot of notice,” he said.

  “I just found out I had a show. You don’t have to come if you already have plans.” A harsh undercurrent laced my words, though I hadn’t meant to sound angry.

  He glowered at the breadstick. “No, I mean, it isn’t a lot of notice for you. It puts a burden on you to be ready in time.”

  “Oh.” Again, I’d been too quick to snap at him.

  “I’ll be at the reception. I’ve decided to ask Mrs. Keahi to join me as my date.” His eyes twinkled, but he managed to keep a smile from his face.

  “That’s a joke, right?”

  A smile caught the corners of Thatch’s mouth and turned into a grin. “Mostly. I did ask her if she wanted to come with me, but she refused. She still hasn’t forgiven you for being related to Alouette Loraline.” He said it wistfully. I wasn’t quite sure if he had forgiven me for not being her.

  “Who else are you inviting?” he asked.

  “Everyone on staff. I don’t expect most of them to go, but I thought it might hurt people’s feelings if I didn’t invite them.”

  “Silas and Amelia Lupi told me they’re going just to see how horrible your art is. I can’t wait to see the disappointment on their faces when they see it isn’t.”

  His compliment meant more to me than all the gallery owners’ opinions in the world. “I didn’t think you liked my art. You told me you were going to destroy the painting I’d made of you.”

  “Because it was too accurate. Not because I didn’t like it.”

  My moment of elation fizzled out as I thought of him burning the piece of art in a fire.

  “I should have handled that situation differently. I apologize,” he said.

  “Two apologies in one night. What’s up with that? Did aliens abduct your apathy gene?”

  He snorted. “You have such a way with words. Perhaps you missed your true vocation as a greeting card writer. Tell me whom else you’ve invited? Your fairy godmother, I presume.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll mail her one of the postcards so she has one for sentimental purposes, but it will probably get to her after the show. The school mail only goes out to the Morty Realm once a week. I thought about going into Lachlan Falls to Skype my mom, but the gallery is six hours away from Eugene, and that’s far to drive on a work night for her.”

  “Ah. You’ll have to wait until there’s a show closer to her location.” He nodded with understanding. “I hear Miss Bloodmire will be attending.”

  “She didn’t tell me that!”

  “Indeed. Miss Bloodmire is preparing a special potion to make food fat-free for that night.”

  I laughed.

  He made it easy to talk to him, keeping the conversation going when I didn’t know how. Social graces were never one of my strong suits. I’d never thought it was one of his, but he handled conversation better than I did. How had I never noticed this before? Had we never sat together and spoken about anything other than education and school business before?

  The waitress brought our salad and shortly after that, our food. Thatch had ordered a personal pan pizza, which I hadn’t even known they served at the Olive Garden.

  “Didn’t you eat dinner already?” I asked.

  “Indeed, but I always have room for food that doesn’t come from our cafeteria.”

  Whether it was because I had been deprived of real food for months, or because I was so hungry, the lasagna tasted better than any I’d had before.

  “Did you invite him to the show?” Thatch asked.

  I didn’t have to ask who. “Yes. He was the one who helped me get the show.”

  He grunted in response. He didn’t look up from his pizza.

  “Promise me you’ll behave.” When he said nothing, I kicked him under the table.

  “When have I ever not behaved?” he asked.

  “Whenever Elric is around.”

  “He’ll be there as your date, I presume.”

  “Don’t start. You’re going to give me indigestion if you do.”

  “I will do my best not to vex you for another hour.”

  Thatch ordered cheesecake for dessert. I was glad he hadn’t ordered tiramisu. I was too full for dessert, but Thatch offered me the first bite. He held a forkful out to me. I only hesitated for a moment before I leaned forward and accepted the taste.

  The moment was creepily reminiscent of my only date with Derrick. But maybe that date hadn’t been as special as I’d thought. Everything that had happened that night might not have signaled Derrick was the love of my life. Maybe friends shared desserts and laughed and stared into each other’s eyes like Thatch was staring into mine right then.

  My heart hiccupped with a thrill of trepidation and eagerness. This wasn’t a date. Thatch was a pragmatic and practical person. I had been hungry; he’d taken me to get food. End of story.

  When we finished and the waitress brought our check, he paid with cash from his wallet instead of enchanting her to make everything free. It was strange seeing him do something so banal that spoke of the Morty Realm.

  “I’ll pay you back,” I said quickly.

  “You needn’t worry about it.” He rose and offered me his hand.

  I pretended I didn’t see it. “It would be the right thing to do. When we get back, I’ll go to my room, and I’ll write you a check if I don’t have the right amount of cash.”

  He removed the bucket from the seat next to his. “You don’t need to go to the trouble of writing a check. Nor do I want to have to go to the trouble of depositing it. We spent a relaxing evening together, and I was given an opportunity to try pseudo-Italian food. It was enjoyable. Let’s not haggle about money.”

  That sounded even more like a date. I tried to broach the subject without embarrassing myself even more than I was already. “So . . . here’s the thing . . . I don’t want it to seem—I mean, what I’m trying to say is—I don’t want to owe you.”

  “You won’t owe me anything. I’m not Fae. I can be generous to people without being bound by rules of magical contracts. That is one advantage of having dinner with me compared to dining with Elric.” His smile was smug.

  Thatch never did anything without a motive. I now wondered if dinner had solely been meant to prove a different point. As we headed toward the closet, Thatch placed my hand in the crook of his elbow like Elric did, the gesture old-fashioned and gentlemanly. This was even worse. Now it really felt like a date.

  Thatch escorted me to the closet we had originally exited from, bucket in hand. “If you did decide you wanted to do something for me in exchange for dinner—not that you need to do so—but if you did, I don’t suppose you would consider not inviting Elric to your art reception.”

  “Nice try. No.”

  He grinned. “You can’t blame me for the attempt.”

  He handed me the bucket. I shifted it to the side so we could both fit more easily in the little broom closet. Even when he closed the door, I could see the smile in his eyes. His wand cast violet shadows on the cleaning supplies.

  He placed his arm around my shoulder. “Clarissa, there’s something I want to tell you.”

  Your Just Desserts

  Turkish Delight

  Ingredients

  • 1 ½ cups water
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  • 3 cups granulated sugar

  • 3 Tbsp. light corn syrup

  • ½ cup orange juice

  • 3 Tbsp. orange zest

  • 3 (.25 ounce) envelopes unflavored gelatin

  • ¾ cup cornstarch

  • ½ cup cold water

  • 1 Tbsp. vanilla extract

  • ¾ cup chopped pistachio nuts

  • about 1 cup confectioners’ sugar for dusting

  Directions

  1. Sprinkle an 8x8-inch pan generously with confectioners’ sugar. Set aside.

  2. Bring water, sugar, and corn syrup to a boil on medium-high heat in a large saucepan. Stir frequently until the temperature reaches 240 ° F (115 ° C) on a candy thermometer. Set aside. Do not cool in refrigerator. Put a lid on the pan to keep the heat in.

  3. Stir together orange juice and orange zest. Sprinkle with gelatin, and set aside.

  4. In a small bowl, dissolve cornstarch in ½ cup of cold water. Stir into hot syrup. Place over medium-low heat, and simmer. Stir gently until thick.

  5. Remove syrup from heat. Add orange juice mixture, vanilla, and pistachios. Stir.

  6. Sprinkle an 8x8-inch pan generously with confectioners’ sugar. Pour the Turkish delight into the pan, and allow to cool until set, 3 to 4 hours.

  7. When cool, sprinkle the top with another thick layer of powdered sugar. Cut into 1-inch squares. Roll each square with confectioners’ sugar. Store at room temperature in an airtight container.

  

  Kitchen Omens

  When an egg cracks while being boiled, it is a sign that visitors are expected. If an egg has two yolks in it, that means someone you know will have twins.

  If a ring forms around a pot as rice is cooking, it is a sign that one will become rich.

  When an apple that is baking in the oven bursts, it is a sign that good news is coming.

  Excerpt from Witches Gone Wicked

  A thought occurred to me. “So, I’m not going to be stuck here forever because I ate Fae food? That fairytale isn’t real?” All those obscure bedtime stories my fairy godmother had read to me as a kid hadn’t just been for enjoyment. Some of them were true.