Spells and Jinglebells

by ReGina Welling

  “What did you get me? Wait. Don’t tell me. I’d like it to be a surprise. Although I think I know what it is. Did you get me an Amish quilt? You did. You don’t have to answer. My heart’s pounding with excitement. I’m sure I’ll like whatever you got me... and if I don’t, I’ll just pretend I do...”

  About the Author

  Sonia wrote her first mystery at sixteen and was encouraged to pursue a career in writing. Instead, she listened to her art teacher and earned a B.A. in Fine Arts. She has no idea how as she spent most of her time reading and writing fiction. Further studies followed in information technology and marketing management but she spent most of her time writing stories. After dabbling in the romantic comedy genre, she found her way back home and now writes lighthearted contemporary and paranormal cozy mysteries with quirky characters and fun dialogue.

  Follow Sonia Parin online:

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  Deal or Snow Deal

  The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series: A Prequel

  M.Z. Andrews

  Summary

  Whitley and Esmerelda Snow have but one wish this Christmas: to find beautiful gowns to wear for the Winter Solstice Snow Globe Ball in their hometown of Everland Cove. But when their down-on-his-luck father, Felix, strikes up a deal with an unlikely stranger, things take an interesting turn.

  Deal or Snow Deal, the prequel to The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series, can be found EXCLUSIVELY in the Spells and Jinglebells anthology.

  Chapter One

  “Come on, Joey. Your order is down thirty percent this month. Last month it was down twenty. I’m sensing a trend here.”

  Joseph DeMarco wiped his greasy hands on the front of his white cotton apron before scratching the blue-black stubble on his chin. “I’m sorry, Felix. I don’t know what to tell ya.”

  Felix Snow stood stuffed between the bread proofer and the commercial grill. Pots and pans clanged together around him as waitresses hollered orders over a stainless-steel warmer. The rapid fire of a knife mincing veggies thudded on a cutting board. He inhaled a shallow breath of moist air seasoned with freshly baked bread and simmering marinara sauce. His stomach rumbled inside his potbelly. It had been a very long day, and he hadn’t had a bite to eat since the cinnamon raisin bagel he’d snatched from his first customer of the day.

  “Tell me this is just a passing thing, and the numbers are gonna come up again next month?” begged Felix.

  “Excuse me,” interrupted a young man in a white jacket and hat who carried a large cardboard box. “Mr. DeMarco, what do you want me to do with this?”

  Joey glanced at his new assistant chef and cocked a thumb over one shoulder. “Just put that down over there, Sam.” He turned to look at Felix again. “I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, Felix, but things ain’t carved in stone in the restaurant business, ya know?”

  Felix rubbed a hand through his dark, wavy hair. “It doesn’t look like things have slowed down around here.”

  Joey threw two thick, sausage-fingered hands out on either side of him. “Listen, Felix. Business is good. I ain’t gonna lie to ya. Unfortunately, ya ain’t cuttin’ me the deals that other guys is cuttin’ me.”

  Felix’s jaw fell open. “You’re cheating on me, Joey?”

  Joey sighed. “Don’t look at it like that, Felix. We’ve known each other for, what, twenty-five years? You’re a pal, and I owe ya a lot, but I gotta watch out for my bottom line here.”

  Felix couldn’t help but nod. He understood bottom lines more than anyone else. “Of course, Joey. I can’t blame you. How about you give me a chance to make the numbers right for you?”

  “But, Felix. Those otha guys. They’re bigga! You’re like a mom ’n’ pop compared to them. You just can’t match the prices.”

  “Be straight with me, Joey. Are you leaving me altogether? Is this a breakup?” Felix asked as a wave of unease turned his stomach. What would he do if he lost his biggest client? Things would go from bad to worse. It wouldn’t take long. He’d been in the business long enough to know how these things went.

  Joey’s head wobbled on his shoulders. “Not right now. You still got the best prices on veal. I don’t know how ya do it, but ya do. You still got the best prices on lotsa stuff. So until ya don’t, I can work with ya.”

  Felix grimaced as he wondered how much longer it would be until he couldn’t beat the big guys’ prices anymore. The words he wanted to say to the man in front of him snagged in his throat. What Felix wanted to say was that his company had been the first one to give Joey DeMarco credit when he’d first opened and hadn’t had two nickels to rub together. Not only did Joey owe the success of this restaurant to Felix’s fortitude in talking the big bosses into extending him credit, but Joey also owed the success of his other restaurants to it as well. But as a salesman, Felix knew he had no choice but to swallow back the betrayal he now felt. He offered his old friend a tight grin. The kind where his cheeks lifted into apples beneath his eyes, but his lips didn’t part. Felix tipped his head to the side and tucked his clipboard beneath the perspiration-stained armpits of his blue-collared shirt.

  “Yeah, alright,” said Felix. He tapped the clipboard. “I’ll get this order placed. You should have it by the end of the week.”

  “Thanks, Felix,” said Joey, clapping the shorter man on the back. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for ya. It’s just that I got mouths to feed. Ya know?”

  Felix lifted his old company coat up off the stainless-steel table and tucked it under his other arm. “I know what ya mean. I have a couple of those mouths to feed myself.”

  “Okay, well, listen, Felix. God bless ya. Have a merry Christmas.”

  “Thanks, Joey. You too. Give Valentina and the girls my regards.” Felix looked longingly at the sauce in the pot on the top of a warmer as he tugged on his coat.

  “Hey, Felix, you, uh, want me to have my guys make you a plate before you go?” asked Joey.

  Felix shoved a hand into his pocket and felt the thin, folded lump of cash. He flicked through it, rubbing the bills silently. He knew there wasn’t enough in the budget for a plate of food and what he really needed. Not after this new round of bad news.

  Felix shook his head, his gaze skimming over Joey’s head and then hitting the floor. “Nah, I ate at my last stop. I’m solid.”

  Joey lifted his chin towards a basket of bagged bread on a shelf. “Well, at least grab a loaf of Val’s bread on the way out. For the road, ya know? It’s on the house.”

  Felix pulled his red QFS work coat higher around his neck as he walked down the bustling city street. It was dark, and the snow fell around him wet clumps, chilling him to the bone and making the sidewalks and streets thick with grey sludge. As he crossed an alley intersection, Felix’s loafer disappeared into a hole in the road, soaking his foot from his toes to just above his ankle. He threw his head back. Just great! Par for the course.

  Without setting the other foot down, Felix hopped towards the slushy sidewalk to lean a hand against a tan brick building beneath a red-and-white-striped awning. He growled as he leaned over to pull off his wet shoe and dump out the half-snow, half-water mixture. Looking down at his sock, he debated taking it off but decided against it. Instead, he wedged the wet sock back into the wet shoe and wished he were anywhere but here.

  As he straightened himself and enjoyed the brief reprieve from the elements that the awning provided, he read the vinyl in the window. Arabella’s Mystic Treasures.

  Felix took a step back to peer into her storefront to see just what kind of mystic treasures Miss Arabella was peddling. Two beautiful ball gowns sparkled in the window. His eyebrows lifted. “Well, I’ll be,” he whispered as a soft smile slowly lifted the corners of his eyes.

  Almost by force of nature, Felix walked towards the door and pulled it open. Sensing his presence, a melodic chime sprang to life, filling the dark entryway with song. He stuck his head inside and peered around. The storefront w
as dark and overloaded with display racks covered in odds and ends. Ah, it’s an antique store! Immediately, he questioned his decision to go inside. It probably wasn’t open anyway, and he had only a few hours to spend hunting down ball gowns for his daughters; this looked like a waste of time. Just as he pulled his head out of the doorway, he heard a woman’s lilting voice call out to him. “Come in! Come in! We’re open!”

  Felix let out a heavy sigh. His daughters, at least one of them, anyway, would likely kill him if she knew her dress came from a secondhand store, no matter how beautiful the gown was. “Oh, thank you. I was just dress shopping, but I didn’t realize this was an antique store,” he called back to the mysterious voice.

  “Oh! Well, you came to the right place. I have dresses! Did you see the lovely gowns in the window?”

  Felix eased further into the shop, trying to find the person behind the voice. “I did. That’s actually why I came in. I thought that perhaps this was a dress shop.”

  “I sell many lovely items. Some are new. Some are used. The dresses in the window are new. They’ve never been worn. Would you like to look at them?”

  Lights flickered further inside the shop, casting strange shadows across a rack of dark garments, and as he took another step further inside, he realized the lights were candles flickering on a glass counter. “Your lights are off. Are you sure I’m not catching you at a bad time?” he asked, craning his neck in search of the woman.

  “Oh, not at all, Felix. This is a mystical shop. Everything here has been hand-selected and has a story to tell. I feel that the candles preserve the aura of the items.”

  Felix cocked an eyebrow up. “Felix? You know my name. It seems you’ve got one up on me. Have we met?”

  Her giggle swirled around him in the darkened room. He heard the floor creak, and a woman appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She was tall and thin with dark skin. Her head was bound with layers of colorful cloth, and she wore bangle bracelets up both arms. Despite her exotic beauty, Felix frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t recognize you.”

  “Forgive me, Felix. You’re correct. We’ve never met. I’m Arabella. I’m a mystic.” She tipped her head to the side. “I’m clairvoyant. I know a bit about every person that enters my shop. In fact, I’ve been expecting you, even before you needed a pair of dry socks.” She walked assuredly behind a glass counter filled with medallions and rings that seemed to glow from within and pulled out a pair of black dress socks. She held them out to him.

  Felix shook his head, waving a hand at her gently. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

  “They’ve been here, just waiting for you to arrive.” She waved them at him, insisting he take them. “You’ll catch cold in those wet socks.”

  With an appreciative smile, Felix took the socks and sat on a small bench. “Very kind of you. Do you mind if I browse barefoot so my shoes might have time to dry?”

  “Not at all! In fact, let me grab those dresses you saw in the window. Esmerelda and Whitley are size fours, yes?”

  Felix smiled uneasily. Arabella’s clairvoyance was a bit unnerving. “They gave me specific instructions. Esmerelda wants a size two or smaller, and Whitley wants a size four.”

  Arabella stopped moving and turned to look at Felix with one lifted brow. “They’re identical twins, aren’t they? They don’t wear the same size?”

  Felix laughed. “You know a lot, but obviously you don’t know their personalities. Esmerelda likes her dresses tight. Whitley prefers to be able to breathe in her clothing.”

  Arabella winked at him. “I had an idea, but I wasn’t sure. You know your girls well.”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle. If there was one thing he knew, it was his daughters. “Oh, I know everything about them. Ask me anything!”

  “Which one was born first?”

  “Esmerelda! And she never lets Whitley forget it!”

  “Which one got her powers first?”

  “They got them on the same day. The day their mother passed.”

  He had to swallow back the lump in his throat. Even though that was years and years ago now, it was still painful to speak of.

  “I’m so sorry, Felix. Yes, of course, they inherited their mother’s gifts. How insensitive of me.”

  He nodded but found he couldn’t bring himself to speak for fear of breaking down. It had been a long, emotional day, and he needed to focus.

  Arabella’s lips formed a tight line. It was obvious she’d touched a nerve. She tried to change the subject by bringing up a bouncier topic. “Whitley’s your seamstress and amateur sleuth, right?”

  Felix cleared his throat and forced a smile. “Yes. She’s my little people pleaser. She loves nothing more than helping people.”

  “Tell me about Esmerelda. What are her interests?”

  “Oh, my Esmerelda,” he sighed. “She doesn’t really have a lot of hobbies. Unless of course you call dating or playing with makeup a hobby. She’s a very talented singer, passed down to her by her mother, but she doesn’t use her talent. And then, of course, she got her power of enchantment from her mother.”

  “Oh, Felix, your girls sound lovely. Now, just wait until they see these unbelievable gowns I have for them! They are just going to adore them!”

  Felix could hear the woman pulling down mannequins in the window. “Do you need any help?” he hollered.

  “I’ve got it!”

  It wasn’t long before the two exquisitely dressed mannequins stood in front of him in the flickering candlelight. “They’re absolutely stunning,” he breathed. “Are they their sizes?”

  Arabella winked. “But of course.”

  They were perfect. His girls would be ecstatic if he came home with the gowns. He stuck his hand back in his pocket and felt the small wad of bills again. He was scared to ask. “How much?”

  “Four hundred a piece,” said Arabella unapologetically as she fluffed the skirt of the emerald-green dress. “You won’t find a more amazing deal in all of the city.”

  Felix swallowed hard. He had three hundred dollars in his pocket, and to his name. “They’re lovely, but I’m just not sure my girls would approve. Girls can be very picky, you know?”

  Arabella stopped fluffing and turned to look at Felix. “Too tight for your budget?”

  He let out the heavy breath he had dammed in his lungs. His shoulders slumped. “Yes.”

  She nodded primly. “Indeed.” She held up her index finger and nodded her head knowingly. “I have other dresses.”

  Felix felt the weight of a two-ton elephant on his heart. He didn’t have the time or the energy to look at other dresses that he knew he couldn’t afford. He tried to smile at her. “No, thank you. I should go. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

  As he turned, Arabella magically appeared in front of him. “I’m known as a woman who likes to wheel and deal. I enjoy a good trade.”

  “A trade?” Felix looked down at his beat-up work coat, the mud on the cuffs of his khaki trousers, and his new black socks. “I have nothing to trade, I’m afraid. And I’ll be honest. I have very little money.”

  “What if we didn’t trade for money? What if I requested your help with an obligation I have?”

  Felix looked at her blankly. What could a Quality Food Supply salesman possibly offer a mystic help with?

  “I can see I have your attention,” she said before he could speak. “I recently received a load of dresses. Like I said when you entered—every item in this shop has a story behind it. Some things have mysteries attached. Mysteries that the universe wants solved.”

  The weight of the day fell heavily around Felix’s shoulders. His droopy eyes looked up at Arabella. “I’m not following you.”

  “You have a daughter that enjoys solving mysteries, yes?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Small mysteries.”

  “And you have a daughter who…how should I put this…can be very persuasive?”

  Felix’s face tingled with heat. He shifted uncomfortably and then nodded.


  “Give me just a moment!” Arabella turned on her heels and practically floated towards the glass counter, where she disappeared behind a nearly invisible black curtain.

  Felix looked around the room helplessly. What would he tell his daughters when he came home empty-handed? They’d given him one job: to find them ball gowns for the big gala to be held on the winter solstice in their small town. He ran a hand through his thick hair. He’d just have to give Whitley his last three hundred dollars and let her buy material to sew their own dresses. He only hoped there would be enough time for her to start from scratch. He shuddered at the thought of Esmerelda’s reaction. His highly stubborn and opinionated firstborn had already put her foot down on more than one occasion. She wanted a store-bought dress, not some simple creation her sister had sewn for her.

  “Felix, do you mind giving me a hand?” called out Arabella’s voice behind the curtain.

  He rushed around the counter and peeled back the curtain to see Arabella holding two handfuls of dresses on hangers high above her head. Felix lifted the hangers from her thumbs.

  “Just drape them over the counter, Felix.”

  With a smile on her face, Arabella took a step back and threw her hands on her hips. Her bangles made a little clinking sound as they slid together on her wrists. “What do you think?”

  Felix looked down at the myriad of dresses. “Think about what?”

  “Do you like them?”

  He lifted his brows and stared down at the pile of garments. “There are at least a dozen dresses here.”

  She nodded. “More than a dozen, in fact. You can have them all. Then the girls can have their pick.”

  “I can have them all?!” he replied, nearly choking on his words.

  Arabella nodded emphatically. “Yes. They are previously owned, but I think you’ll be pleased to see that they are all still in pristine condition. And like I said, I’m willing to trade.”