A Very Witchy Yuletide

by D. Lieber

  Disappointment tingled across her skin before she could brush it aside. “That’s good. I’m glad he’s so different. Now, I won’t have to worry about getting over him again. I’ve met tons of guys like that in the last few years. I know how to deal with them. No problem. Right, Muir?”

  Muir’s only answer was to crunch his kibble, his face shoved into his food bowl.

  “Right,” Evergreen answered for him.

  She left her cat to his breakfast and grabbed her shower bag from her suitcase. Then, she went down the hall to the bathroom to get properly ready for visitors.

  After putting on thick leggings, a black skirt and tank top, and her favorite upcycled sweater jacket, Evergreen smiled at her presentable appearance in her bedroom mirror just as a knock sounded the door.

  “Come in,” she called.

  “Oh, don’t you look cute,” her mother said from the doorway.

  “Thanks, Mom. What’s up?”

  “Would you come downstairs and help Tara and Sawyer get settled into their rooms?”

  Evergreen quirked an eyebrow. “It’s not like they haven’t been here tons of time before. Why do they need help?”

  Her mother pursed her lips. “Because they’re our guests, Evergreen, and it’s the polite thing to do.”

  “Fine,” Evergreen sighed.

  Her mom’s voice smiled like she hadn’t just been scolding her. “And your father is making omelets.”

  “All right. I’m coming.” Evergreen left her door slightly open so Muir could get in and out when he wanted to and headed downstairs.

  On the second-floor landing, she met her cousin, who smirked at her.

  “Don’t we look adorable this morning?” Cassandra said with a teasing tone that had way too much subtext.

  Evergreen flipped her hair to one shoulder. “Hashtag woke up this way.”

  Cassandra laughed. “Uh-huh. I bet.”

  Back in the living room, Tara and Sawyer waited for their room assignments.

  “Tara, I’m going to put you on the second floor. You’ll be sharing with Hazel when she arrives,” Ria told her.

  “I guess Charlie isn’t up for Yule,” Tara said.

  “Yeah, I think one Pagan is as much as he can handle. He’s going to spend Christmas with his family,” Ria agreed.

  Tara nodded.

  Evergreen reached for Tara’s bag, but Cassandra got there first. Evergreen squinted at her cousin, who smiled innocently back before leading Tara to the second floor.

  “And Sawyer, I’m sorry. But there just isn’t enough room for everyone. Do you mind being in a sleeping bag in the meditation room?” Ria asked.

  “Not at all, Ria,” Sawyer answered, grabbing his suitcase.

  Ria nudged Evergreen with her elbow, and Evergreen sighed and stepped closer to Sawyer.

  “I can take your bag,” Evergreen muttered.

  “Oh, it’s fine. I can carry it.”

  “Really, my mom is going to complain at me if I don’t do it, so just give it here.”

  Her mom pretended like she didn’t hear. “Go on, Sawyer. Evergreen will show you to your room. And she’ll get the sleeping bag from the closet for you.”

  There was a heavy pause before Sawyer silently held out his bag. As she took it from him, their fingers brushed together. Evergreen froze as a jolt ran through her. She glanced up at Sawyer. His amber eyes met hers below the soft waves of his golden hair.

  “Well, go on,” her mother urged. “Only a week and a half until Yule, and we still have a lot to do before then.”

  Evergreen felt her cheeks heat. She looked away, glaring at whatever her gaze landed on. “Come on,” she said irritably as she started toward the meditation room.

  At the far end of the house was a sunroom with glass walls trimmed in cedar and a peaked glass roof. Its wooden floor was empty save for an altar at the far end and shelves with rolled up yoga mats, blocks, and pillows near the door.

  The scents of pine and cinnamon wafted through the air, coming from smoking incense on the altar. The altar had a wooden dish of salt, a crystal bowl of water, a white pillar candle—which flickered dimly in the morning light—and a small bucket of sand where the incense stuck out. The center of the altar had a foot-tall statue of the triple moon goddess, her long hair flowing down from her crown with the triple moon symbol on top. Her carved garments of green soapstone gracefully held the base of a flickering tealight. There was a conspicuous spot beside her, empty of the god statue that would soon return to its rightful place upon the god’s rebirth on Yule.

  Evergreen placed Sawyer’s bag on the floor. “I’ll go get your sleeping bag,” she muttered.

  She turned to leave as quickly as she could, but Sawyer called out to her. “Eeva,” he said, his tone clipped as he tried to stop her before she was out of earshot.

  She looked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow at him.

  “Thank you.” His voice was warm and welcoming, and Evergreen just knew he was mocking her.

  She squinted at him and left without a word. Digging through the hall closet in search of a sleeping bag, Evergreen jumped when her mother spoke from behind her.

  “Is he getting settled?” she asked.

  “How should I know?” Evergreen grumbled. “I put his stuff down in the meditation room, and now I’m trying to find the sleeping bags.”

  “Would it hurt you to be a little kinder in your tone, Evergreen? After all, the rule of three would still apply even if it wasn’t the season to be extra kind to others,” she lectured.

  Evergreen sighed; her mother always used three-fold retribution as a way to curb bad behavior. “Yeah, yeah. Ah! Here they are. Finally.” She pulled out an orange sleeping bag and stuffed the rest back as the lot surged toward her. Then, she quickly shut the closet door before they could change their minds about staying put.

  “Take this as well.” Her mother held out a space heater to her. “It’s cold out there, especially at night.”

  “Fine,” she agreed, heading back to the meditation room with her quest items.

  Chapter 6

  An unfamiliar feeling came over Sawyer as Eeva glared at him before turning to go find his sleeping bag. He’d never seen that defiant look in her eyes, at least not directed at him. She’d always been so warm, so bright and joyful before.

  But she’d looked directly at him. She’d met his gaze straight on. And even though she was clearly irritated, for that moment, her attention was fully his.

  Of course that wasn’t the look he wanted from her. But it was a strong, personal reaction, and it belonged to him.

  Eeva returned shortly with a sleeping bag and a space heater. She placed them near the door.

  “Thank you, Eeva. And you even brought a heater. That’s considerate of you.” He smiled.

  She squinted at his sincerity. “My mom gave it to me to bring.”

  “Still, you brought it.” Sawyer didn’t let his smile slip.

  “Do you need anything else, or can I go eat my breakfast now?”

  “Of course. I’m right behind you.”

  Sawyer followed Eeva through the house and into the kitchen, where her dad was standing at the stove making omelets.

  Wes smiled over his shoulder at them. “Toppings are on the island,” he told them. “Grab a bowl and fill it with what you want.”

  Sawyer stood beside Eeva, edging along the island, bowl in hand. The surface was covered with bowls of mushrooms, tomatoes, cheese, cubed ham, bacon, potatoes, bell peppers, and everything you’d ever want in an omelet. An odd addition caught Sawyer’s eye. At the very center of the island was a mug of cocoa, its whipped cream deflated from sitting too long, and a piece of buttered toast topped with cinnamon and sugar, a neat bite taken out of one corner.

  Sawyer smiled to himself. Maybe she hasn’t changed so much after all.

  After passing her additions to her dad, Eeva went on through to the dining room.

  “It’s been a while since we’ve all been toge
ther,” Wes said to him, pulling Sawyer’s attention away from Eeva’s retreat.

  “It has,” Sawyer agreed.

  “A lot has changed,” Wes continued.

  Sawyer nodded slowly, placing his bowl on the counter beside the cook.

  They were silent for a moment, the only sound the sizzling hiss from the frying pan.

  “Do you still keep your cocoa in the same place?” Sawyer asked.

  Wes nodded, pointing his spatula to the cupboard above the coffee pot.

  Sawyer went to the cupboard and took the glass jar of cocoa down along with a mug. After spooning a few heaping tablespoons into the cup, he poured hot water atop the powder from the electric kettle and stirred. Then, he went to the refrigerator, scanning the shelves.

  “In the door,” Wes instructed.

  Sawyer grabbed the can of whipped cream from the door and squeezed a mound of it atop the cocoa. After returning the cocoa jar to the cupboard, he pulled down another with mini chocolate chips. He sprinkled the chips onto the whipped cream and grabbed the mug.

  As Sawyer left the kitchen, he heard Wes mutter to himself. “Then again, maybe not so much after all.”

  In the dining room, his mom, Ria, Eeva, and Cassandra sat at the large table, waiting for breakfast. His mom warmed her hands on a cup of green tea while Ria and Cassandra had coffee.

  They were chatting about all the things that needed to be done before Yule as he entered. He approached the table and sat in the empty seat beside Eeva, placing the mug of cocoa carefully before her.

  She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. “What’s this?” she asked.

  He smiled. “Cocoa.”

  Eeva lowered her gaze to the table, biting her lower lip ever so slightly. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

  His smile widened. “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m most worried about the Yule log,” Ria said, continuing her conversation without noticing their exchange.

  “You didn’t get it at Midsummer?” Tara asked.

  Ria shook her head. “Everything else I either have or can get at the craft store if needed. Though I suppose we can go to the hardware store if we really can’t find one.”

  Tara nodded. “Well, maybe one of the others will bring a log. You never know. When do they arrive?”

  “Thursday, during the full moon,” Ria answered.

  “Don’t worry, Aunt Ria,” Cassandra said. “We still have plenty of time. And everyone will be here to help.”

  Sawyer felt a tug on his sleeve and looked over. A small boy, no older than five, stood beside him.

  “You’re in my seat,” the child informed him.

  Sawyer raised his eyebrows. “Am I?”

  The boy nodded.

  “I’m sorry about that. Just so I don’t make that mistake again. How will I know it’s yours in the future?” Sawyer whispered politely.

  The child nodded, accepting his apology. “Because I always sit next to Eeva.”

  “Oh, but what if I want to sit next to Eeva?”

  Eeva snorted into her cocoa then coughed. Everyone looked at her to make sure she was all right. She held up her hand to say she was, whipped cream smeared on her nose and upper lip.

  Sawyer bit back a laugh and turned his attention back to the boy, who frowned, his small brow furrowed in deep thought.

  “Well,” he said finally. “I guess we could take turns sitting next to Eeva.”

  “That’s a well thought out plan,” Sawyer complimented. “What’s your name, my friend?”

  “Sol.”

  Sawyer held out his hand to the boy, and Sol shook it as best he could. “It’s very nice to finally meet you, Sol. I’m Sawyer. You know, your mom was pregnant with you the last time I saw her.”

  “You knew Mom before I was born?”

  “We’ve been friends for a very long time.”

  Sol looked to his mother, who confirmed with a nod. Then, the boy smiled at him. “Since you’re friends with Mom, I’ll let you sit next to Eeva for breakfast. But next time, it’s my turn.”

  Sawyer nodded seriously. “Okay. You got it.”

  Chapter 7

  The sweet, creamy warmth of her hot chocolate swirled on Evergreen’s tongue as she washed down her last bite of omelet. She glanced sideways at Sawyer over the rim of her mug. He didn’t notice her looking, but then again, he never had. It was awfully nice of him to make me cocoa, and he even remembered just how I like it, she thought. But why would he do that? I didn’t ask him to.

  She smiled into the cup as she downed the last of it. Don’t make it into something it’s not, she told herself. That’s how you got all wrapped up in him before and look what a mess that was. It’s just cocoa. He was just being nice, probably making up for teasing me earlier.

  “I have to go to the grocery store today,” her dad told everyone at the table. “I’ve got a lot of cooking ahead of me.”

  “Could you also go to the craft store if I give you a list?” her mom asked. “I need stuff for the baskets and cotton thread for the candles. I’d go, but we have to get the rest of the rooms ready for everyone. Plus, I have to do laundry and whatnot.”

  “I can go with you, Dad,” Evergreen said. “We can split the effort. I’ll go to the craft store, and you can handle the market.”

  “Thanks, honey. That would be a big help.”

  “I’d like to go to the craft store, too,” Sawyer added. “If you could use an extra pair of hands.”

  Just as Evergreen opened her mouth to say she was just fine without help, her father agreed.

  “I’ll stay and help Aunt Ria,” Cassandra said.

  “Me too,” Tara seconded.

  “But Mom,” Sol complained. “I want to go into town, too.” He held out the last word, his voice rising into a whine.

  Cassandra glanced at Evergreen, who nodded.

  “You can come with me, Sparkler,” Evergreen told the boy. “I’m going to need lots of help carrying all the heavy packages.”

  “I can do that! I can carry the packages,” Sol assured.

  “Then, it looks like you’re just the man for the job.”

  Twenty minutes later, Cassandra helped Sol put on his boots, coat, hat, and mittens. “You’re going to be good for Eeva and Sawyer, right?” she asked him.

  “Don’t worry,” Evergreen assured her cousin. “Sparkler is always good for me.”

  Cassandra smiled sweetly at her son then kissed him on the cheek. “Okay. I’ll see you later then.”

  He wrapped his arms around his mom’s neck. “Bye, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  Then, Sol took Evergreen’s hand.

  “Make sure Muir stays out of trouble, will you?” Evergreen asked her cousin.

  Cassandra nodded, and Evergreen and Sol headed into the cold winter morning.

  “All good?” Evergreen asked as they approached her dad’s car.

  “Yep, all done,” Sawyer answered, standing up from securing Sol’s car seat. “You ready, my friend?” he asked, turning his attention to the boy.

  Sol nodded and climbed into his car seat. Sawyer went about buckling him in as Evergreen went around to sit beside him.

  “Ready?” her dad asked, buckling his seatbelt and looking around to make sure everyone else had done the same.

  The rest answered in the affirmative.

  They made their way toward town. “Did your mom give you the list?” her dad asked as he drove slowly down the snow-lined road.

  “Yeah, she said you guys are donating to the women’s and children’s shelter this year.”

  “She found out they’re running low on supplies.”

  Evergreen nodded, but she didn’t know if he saw her.

  “So, Sawyer,” her dad started, “I hear you’re working at an animal rehabilitation center.”

  “Yes, I care for the animals and give tours, lead nature hikes, and teach kids about the wildlife when they visit on field trips.”

  “Th
at sounds right up your alley. You always were good with animals,” Wes answered.

  “Yeah, it’s really rewarding, especially when we get to release them back into the wild. It makes all that patience nursing them back to health worth it.”

  “You seem like you’re enjoying it,” Wes said.

  “I am,” Sawyer agreed, the smile apparent in his voice.

  A warmth spread through Evergreen’s chest. He’s happy, she thought. I can hear it. He found something he loves to do. I’m glad. And she knew it was true, even as she ignored the tinge of sadness in her stomach.

  “Eeva is looking for jobs at the moment. Any luck yet, honey?”

  Evergreen sighed. “Not yet.”

  “Maybe you could send Sawyer your résumé. He’s done the whole job search thing before. Maybe he could give you some tips,” her dad suggested.

  “N—”

  “I’d be happy to,” Sawyer said, cutting off her objection. “Go ahead and send it to me. Do you…still have my email address?”

  Do I still have your email? she thought. Yeah, I still have it. Just like I still have your phone number, and we’re still technically friends on social media.

  Her heart squeezed at the memory of all those checked boxes in the photo gallery of her phone disappearing into a cloud drive folder called Vault so she’d never have to accidentally see any of the pictures of animals or interesting looking trees he’d sent her. Unfollowing him on social media had been even worse. He has no idea just how hard it was for me to let him go, just how much it tore me apart to recognize all his fleeting glances and sweet gestures for what they really were: warm, kind, and colored with the heart-rending torment of a friendship that fell too short, she thought.

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “I still have it.”

  Chapter 8

  “I’ll pick you up in two hours,” Wes said as Sawyer helped Sol from his car seat.

  “Okay, Dad,” Eeva acknowledged. She pulled her white cane from her bag as he drove away. She unwrapped the elastic and let the sections snap into place.