Hexes and Ohs

by ReGina Welling

  When the cover flipped open, I pulled out a small velvet bag tucked between my spell book and my enchanted mirror. He closed the suitcase and set it down beside us while I loosened the drawstring and tipped it over, the titanium ring tumbling onto my palm. “I’m a little embarrassed. The ring I made for you isn’t fancy. I didn’t know what you’d like, so I erred on the side of too simple rather than elaborate.”

  His fingers flexed, one by one, and he slowly lifted them, keeping his elbows tight to his body. I grabbed his left wrist and slipped the ring on his finger.

  “Perfect fit,” I said, admiring my handiwork on his rugged hand.

  He pulled away, twisting his hand over to examine the simple band. “I love it. It’s perfect.” He looked up and his lip twitched like he was holding words back.

  “What?”

  Roman looked back down at his hand. “My father’s ring was just like this. A simple band.”

  “Was?”

  Roman nodded. “He died when I was young.”

  The cloud I had been riding disappeared and my feet were firmly planted on the ground. Of course, I’d ruin a beautiful moment. “I’m sorry.”

  “No worries. You just met me. We have a lot to learn about each other.” Then a slight pink color grew on his cheeks before he looked down, picking up my suitcase. “Let’s get going then.” His arm twitched like he wanted me to loop my arm through his, but he turned toward the exit instead.

  I wasn’t having any of that. We were married. I interlaced my arm into his and caught his bright pink cheeks out of the corner of my eye. Oh, he was a little shy. This was going to be fun.

  2

  After spending the entire next morning pulling out everything I owned from my little, bottomless, enchanted suitcase, I was exhausted. I planted myself on Roman’s sofa and began searching online for jobs in this new city. I needed a purpose in life, more than my involvement in the Witch-Way Charity and the little good deeds I offered mortals.

  When I heard a car pull into our long driveway, I was surprised at the time—it was after six already. My heart raced as I rushed to the kitchen. I wanted to make Roman a home-cooked meal, but a little magic was in order since I’d lost track of time. With a snap of my fingers, I cleaned myself up and changed into my favorite little blue dress. With another snap, a steaming dish of enchiladas appeared on the oak table. How had mortals survived without magic?

  The door clicked open, and I leaned my fidgety body against the counter, waiting. Roman stepped through the door, tossed his keys on the kitchen counter, and carefully pulled off his black over-coat, holding a white bag of something.

  Take-out?

  When he twisted around at my concoction on the table he laughed. “Great minds think alike!” He unwrapped two Styrofoam containers from the bag and opened one, showing me some rice, beans, and nothing else but enchiladas. “Right down the road from my office is a little Mexican food truck. It’s my favorite place to eat, and I wanted to share that experience with you.”

  I snapped my fingers, making the dish on the table disappear. “I’d love enchiladas. How’d you know that was what I was hungry for?” I winked.

  “I have some other favorite food places I want to share with you. I’ll bring something home every day this week, if you don’t mind. Think of it as a way for us to get to know each other better. I’ll share food, and you can share—”

  “Movies!” I blurted out while grabbing two forks and helping Roman set the containers on the table. “I love movies. Action, adventure and fantasy are my favorites.”

  He rubbed his chin. “Huh. That’s something I didn’t know.”

  “You didn’t find that while stalking me on the internet?” I playfully flashed him a flirtatious smile.

  “No, I’m sure there’s a lot more than that to learn about you.”

  “Oh, there is,” I teased. “Want a plate?”

  He shook his head. “It’s much more fun to eat off foam.” He waited until I was seated, then joined me at the table, laughing.

  “What’s so funny? Did I do something?” I rubbed a hand down my face, making sure I hadn’t splattered red sauce somewhere.

  He shook his head. “No, of course not. I was just remembering something.”

  “Which is?” I took a bite, surprised by the perfect mix of spicy and savory.

  He flipped open the cover of his meal. “When I was about thirteen, my family took a trip to Spain. We were excited to try an authentic Spanish restaurant. I was the first to order. Do you know what I asked for?”

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did. Enchiladas. Not realizing they were Mexican and not Spanish.” He took another bite, carefully chewing the contents. “Every time I eat these, it brings back memories of my family.”

  I awkwardly smiled, thinking of how lucky I was not to have suffered a loss of parent yet. Silence followed for a bit while we enjoyed our food. I wondered what his father had been like. Had he been tall and handsome like Roman? Charmingly awkward and shy? Thoughtful? Or had he gotten those traits from his mother? My heart fluttered, thinking of all the mysteries I had yet to discover about this man.

  3

  A week had passed of my married life, and I settled into the spare bedroom of Roman’s home. There was no reason to rush things. Don’t get me wrong—he was one of the sweetest men I had ever met. Besides the flowers, beautiful wedding ring, and similar taste in Mexican food, he brought dinner home after work every day while I spent my time applying and interviewing for jobs. Twice already, he’d taken me to the movies, since it turned out we both really loved a good action flick and previously had nobody to go with. A witch couldn’t get luckier.

  One evening, I was watching TV and Roman came down the steps.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he said.

  I rubbed my palms together and sat up on the sofa. “You do?”

  “It’s our one-week wedding anniversary. I wanted to do something special.”

  I couldn’t help beaming as he led me upstairs. When he flung open his bedroom door, my heart skipped. Was I ready for this? Would I let him down? “Um…Roman? I don’t know if I can—” The excited look on Roman’s face made me lose my words.

  “Come on, trust me.” He reached his hand out, and I took it, allowing him to lead me inside.

  His room smelled like fresh mountain air as the breeze blew the sheer blue curtains aside. He pulled me to the far wall and held the fabric out of the way as he motioned for me to crawl out the window onto the flat garage roof. I threw one leg over the sill and leaned down until my foot touched the rubber surface. As I went to pull my second leg over, a stick rolled beneath my heel. I lost my footing and found myself dangling by one leg from the window ledge.

  Roman was there before I realized I was stuck. He pulled me up, steadying me in his strong arms. The warmth of his body calmed my racing heart, but then he let go and crawled outside. He reached up and helped me through the window. When we were firmly planted on the roof surface, I realized how close we were again, his arms circling me with a gentle rub of my back, and his spicy scent wrapping itself around my body.

  I wanted to kiss him. One week of marriage and not even a peck. My insides tingled as I thought of how it would be. Soft and careful? Passionate? Magical? I lifted on my tip-toes and leaned in, but he turned away before I could really make a move.

  Didn’t he notice my advance?

  He cleared his throat. “I made us dinner. A non-take-out rooftop meal under the stars.”

  In the center of the garage roof was a table, just big enough for two place settings. A white tablecloth draped almost to the ground with our plates on top. Twinkling, enchanted lights surrounded us, hanging low in the air and glowing brighter as the sun headed below the horizon. They were soft blues, golds, and silvers. This entire week we’d been married, there hadn’t been much magic, and I hadn’t noticed until now. We’d had a fabulous time getting to know each other.

  The smile on my face could have
rivaled a child’s on their birthday as I spun around, enjoying the shimmering lights. A deep need to do something nice and beautiful in return began to grow inside me.

  As we sat down and made our way through the lasagna and the wine, that need for a big show grew and grew. I wanted him to know how much I appreciated all this. How excited I was to be married. How hopeful that I might find love…

  “We haven’t had our first dance yet.” I mumbled between bites, knocking my empty wine glass over. I righted it, then snapped my fingers in the air, changing his gold and silver shimmering lights to a dimmer blue. “You wanna get the music?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll let you.”

  I smiled and, with another snap, had the soft sounds of an orchestra playing in the background.

  He rose, took my hand, and guided me away from the table. When he wrapped his arm around my back, his cheeks reddened. I simply smiled and leaned into his chest. “Why did you search for a mail-order witch?”

  “What do you mean?” He asked, slightly stiff.

  “I mean, there are way more witches left in this world than warlocks. I’m just surprised you weren’t snatched up already.”

  “I…um…If you haven’t noticed, I’m not very…comfortable around the opposite sex. Especially not a confident and accomplished witch, such as yourself.”

  “I have noticed you’re a little shy, but I’m not that accomplished.” I pulled him close, feeling his body pressed against mine. “I just have always been focused on what I want in life.”

  He pushed me away slightly and looked into my eyes. “And what is it that you’re looking for?”

  Love? No, that was selfish and impossible. Instead, I shrugged. “To make a difference, I guess. For there to be a reason I’m here on Earth. To help our kind. To help mortals keep a little bit of our magic, too. That’s why I went to college for social work. Why I’m involved in Witch-Way.” When Roman loosened his grip, I pushed my body against his once again. “What do you want in life?”

  “Love. Someone special. What else is there?” His words were soft and made me lose my breath.

  I sucked in my bottom lip and leaned my head against his chest. During the rest of the three-minute song, I only stepped on his foot once or twice. He swirled me and caught me close. His breath blew the hairs on the top of my head. When I looked up, I had to fight the urge to kiss him once again.

  Do it. He’s your husband.

  But maybe he wants to make the first move.

  Think of something else.

  “Okay, your turn. Do something magical,” I blurted out.

  He looked towards the forest that surrounded his home…our home, then pulled me in for another dance. “I think there’s enough magic here tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll surprise you. I want to make sure it’s extra-special.”

  I sucked in my bottom lip, holding back my smile. My body grew warm and tingled. It was then that I couldn’t help it. I lifted to my tippy-toes and placed a quick kiss upon his lips. A kiss just long enough to bring that familiar rosy color to his cheeks.

  His lips parted, and he leaned down, but then stopped. “Um…I’ll carry some of this stuff in.” He backed away to the table and filled his arms with our dirty plates and the lasagna pan.

  By the time I picked up our glasses and silverware, he had disappeared into his bedroom window. I stopped a moment, taking in the beautiful lights one last time before I followed him inside, careful not to drop anything or slip off the roof. The night had been a beautiful addition to our courtship, and I didn’t want to ruin it with a trip to the hospital.

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t nearly as careful as I carried the dishes through his bedroom as I bumped my shin against an end table. A wide-mouth vase toppled onto the carpet, and a folded piece of paper tumbled out. I set the glasses down on the table and righted the vase. When I picked up the paper to put it back inside, the words printed across the top made my heart stop: www.PinterestPotions.com/TwinklingSky

  What kind of warlock needs a potion recipe?

  Potions were only for mortals.

  I unfolded the paper, showing a photo of glittering gold, silver, and blue lights, exactly like what had been outside.

  There had to be another explanation. He was a warlock. A one-hundred percent pure-blood. I wouldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe he simply used the photo for inspiration? If he wasn’t a pure-blood…or a warlock at all, I needed proof.

  I tucked the potion recipe back into the vase and headed downstairs with my dishes.

  4

  As I waited for Roman to leave for work the next day, my palms sweated and my stomach swirled. All night I had tossed and turned, thinking the worst. What if I married a mortal? Married a mortal obsessed with the magical. One that used potions on Pinterest and bought enchanted objects from eBay. Roman hadn’t done any true magic in front of me. Everything he had was already enchanted by the time I saw it. The twinkling flowers, the witch wedding ring, and the sparkling lights.

  I had fallen for everything! Married him, even. I had done my research, but with the right connections and a bit of magic, anything could be faked—even a magic-council-certified Facebook dating profile. That’s what I get for romanticizing love. For being impatient. For being sick of being alone.

  But what if I was jumping to conclusions? If he was a real warlock, I didn’t want to throw away our future because of a hunch.

  As soon as the front door clicked behind Roman that morning, I nearly sprinted through the living room, peering out the window and watching his red sedan pull out of the driveway and disappear down the road.

  When I was certain he was gone, I rushed into his office, sat in his black leather chair, and opened his laptop.

  The screen glowed to life.

  I stopped breathing when it prompted me for a password.

  My fingers danced across the keyboard, trying everything I could think of: his address, his name forward and backward, the make and model of his car, and I even pulled out a few desk drawers, looking for a little book of passwords.

  Just when I was about to give up, I tried my name: Ettie.

  The screen opened to the desktop.

  My heart pounded as I clicked into his search browser and checked his browsing history. There it was, over and over: www.PinterestPotions.com.

  How could he?

  I clicked in to see what he had pinned.

  Enchanted Roses

  Witch Wedding Ring

  Starry Night Sky

  Lasagna Dinner

  Oh no, oh no, oh no! My heart pounded. I fell for the lowest trick in the book. I married a mortal! I was numb as I stared at the big red P on the screen. I was blind. He had been so sweet, so shy, and so genuine…how could he have lied to me?

  Maybe you’re wrong. You still don’t have concrete proof.

  I bit my lip as I rubbed my forehead.

  If only…

  I had an idea. I logged him out and created my own Pinterest account. After confirming there wasn’t already a potion of this nature, I created and uploaded my first potion recipe online, titled Change the Color of your Automobile. Now, if I could only get Roman to make the potion and use it…he’d be in for a big surprise.

  Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone and sent Roman a text: I’d love it if our car was blue.

  Was that too obvious? Would he see the setup?

  It didn’t matter. I logged out and closed the laptop cover, putting the room back how it was before I decided to be a snoop.

  He was my husband and was clearly lying to me. I needed to be certain of my facts before I ended our marriage.

  5

  Back and forth across the living room, I paced away the rest of the day, not caring if I wore a path into the carpet. I didn’t see a need to continue to search for a job, so instead I wasted time. I forced myself to stop the steady march across the room to get out some nervous energy by cleaning. The floors were never so shiny! The bathroom smelled like bleach and even the ceiling fans
were dust free. I polished the silverware until the fake silver color rubbed away.

  And I did this all without magic! I’d never worked so hard.

  When Roman came home, I must have looked like a dirty, sweaty mess, but he smiled. “You look beautiful.” I would have denied it, but the dimples on his cheek told me he was sincere. A knot grew in my stomach. Had I gone too far?

  He dropped his keys on the countertop beside the back-entry door. “That text about wanting a blue car was odd.”

  I shrugged. “Blue’s just my favorite color, and I thought that we should have a new car color to symbolize the start of our new life together. I’ve always had a blue car and red seems…just wrong to me.”

  Roman laughed. “Of course. Did you want to take care of it, or should I?”

  And the game began. “I’d love it if you did.”

  “As you wish,” he said. “Just give me a moment to get changed.”

  I nodded.

  He stopped in his office for his computer before he disappeared upstairs. After a few minutes, he yelled downstairs. “I’ll do it now. Watch out the living room window.”

  Instead, I crept up the stairs and stood outside his bedroom door, waiting. I knew the car wouldn’t change colors.

  My pounding heart filled the silence. I was going to have my proof.

  Eventually, Roman called through the door. “Are you sure you want blue?”

  He must have tried and failed. Fingers crossed my fake potion did the trick.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I can help if you like.”

  When I heard his hand on the doorknob, I stepped back. The door swung open to his face, a deep shade of Smurf blue.

  I would have laughed, but instead, anger bubbled inside of me. He was a fake. A liar! Out of my mouth exploded all the anxiety I had today. “You look a little blue in the face. Are you hiding something from me?”