“Cynthia and I are getting married.”
I had no love left for my cheating ex-husband, but his announcement still hit me like a gut punch. It had been a year since the divorce, but it hurt to know that he had moved on from twenty years of marriage so quickly. The electric buzzing in my head intensified and my eyes widened when I noticed that the string lights on some of the shelves in the coffeeshop had begun to flash on and off.
Not good.
“Okay…” I said cautiously. “So you’ve come to my place of employment to rub your midlife crisis in my face? Is that it?”
Cynthia scoffed and readjusted her grip on my husband’s arm.
“I told you she’d act like this. Let’s just go,” she said, attempting to drag my ex away from the counter and out the front door. To my surprise, Josh wrenched his arm out of her grasp and stood firm.
“No,” he said. “I need to do the right thing, here.”
If I wasn’t so worried about inadvertently causing an electrical storm, I might have laughed out loud. Since when had he ever wanted to do right by me? The fact that he cheated on me and then attempted to screw me over every opportunity he got during the divorce proved that he had never cared about doing the right thing.
“Well, you have my attention, Josh,” I said. “Although I’m not sure why you’re so worried about doing the right thing now. You certainly didn’t care enough about doing the right thing when you were boinking our receptionist behind my back.”
His jaw flexed and, for a moment, I thought he was going to yell at me. Or at least punch something. But he seemed to catch himself and his face smoothed into the familiar mask of arrogance that he wore so well.
“That’s simply not true, Heidi, and you know it,” he said condescendingly. I felt another surge of energy. This time, it was angry, and the overhead lights in the coffee shop began to slightly flicker. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Victoria glance up in surprise.
“Either tell me what you want or get the hell out,” I growled. Josh smirked and the hair on my arms began to stand up. It was as if I was surrounded by static. I was grateful that Victoria wasn’t close enough to me, or else she might have felt it too, and then I really would have been in trouble.
“I sold the firm, Heidi,” Josh finally said. “I thought you should hear it from me. After Cynthia and I get married, we’re moving to Vegas to start a new company.”
I saw red.
“You what?” I shrieked. Cynthia took an involuntary step backward, but Josh held his ground.
He must be really brave or really stupid.
I could barely hear myself think over the rushing in my head and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. If I didn’t get a hold of myself fast, I had a feeling that this would end in disaster. More disastrous than things already were, anyway.
“Now before you get all hysterical,” Josh continued, “I would like to remind you that you voluntarily quit the firm.”
I seethed. After I had caught him cheating with Cynthia, Josh told me I could keep my job at the firm. As if I would actually want to stick around after what he had done.
“And so you just decided to up and sell the place I helped you build from the ground up?” I asked. “The place I practically ran by myself while you were off doing God knows what with our receptionist?”
“I think that’s a bit of an overstatement,” Cynthia said under her breath.
“Oh, shut up!” I yelled. The lights pulsed. Victoria cleared her throat.
“I’m going to go check the wiring in the back,” she said. She took a tentative step towards me, but I warded her off, terrified that she might feel the static coming off me in waves if she got too close.
“I’m fine,” I told her. She didn’t look so sure.
“I’ll come running if I hear any screaming,” she warned me.
“Don’t worry. I think we’re just about done here, anyway,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Right, Josh?”
But it seemed as if Josh wasn’t quite done taking jabs at me. He took a step closer to me and shoved a finger in my face. The lights pulsed again and the electrical buzz in my head became almost deafening.
“You gave up on any claim to the firm the day you quit,” he said. “So you have no say in this. It’s over and done with. Get over it.”
At that moment, he glanced down at the table where I had left the rebranding suggestions for The Witch’s Brew. He took one look at the packet of papers and sneered.
“You have no real talent for marketing, you know that? You always played it too safe.” His gaze cut back to me and he looked me up and down. “Lacked creativity and imagination, too...in more ways than one. I couldn’t believe you were surprised when you found out about the affair. Any man would be underwhelmed with you as a wife.”
That’s it.
“Get. Out!” I shouted.
It was as if some angry beast inside of me had suddenly woken up. In seconds, the electrical humming in my head grew louder and louder until it was all I could hear. In one, powerful pulse, all the static that had been gathering around my body pushed outwards and knocked Josh back against the counter. Cynthia shrieked as, one by one, the overhead lights went dark and shattered. Glass from the covers and bulbs fell to the ground and I threw my hands up to protect my head from the shards. Victoria came running out of the back room.
“Oh my god,” she gasped. “What happened?”
Josh seemed to come to his senses, which must have been quite a feat seeing as how he’d been thrown against the counter by some invisible, electrical force moments before.
“This place is a death trap!” he finally managed to shout. I watched with numb detachment as my ex-husband slowly turned a bright, angry red. “Your asses are done! Finished! I’ll be reporting this to OSHA, the FDA, the fucking Better Business Bureau! You’ll never work again!”
He stormed towards the front entrance with Cynthia close behind, glass crunching underneath their feet. I flinched when the door slammed behind him and, through the front windows, I saw him mouthing what I could only imagine was a string of expletives directed at me and Victoria.
“Well then,” Victoria sighed, surveying the damage.
My legs had begun to tremble violently, so I slumped into the nearest chair. Victoria looked on with concern.
“Are you hurt?” she asked. I shook my head and tried to take a few deep breaths.
“I have no idea what happened…” Victoria chewed her lower lip. “This has never happened before. When I went to check on the wiring in the back, there was nothing wrong with them...I’m going to have to call a contractor to help me fix this mess...and hope that Josh doesn’t immediately rush off to complain. God, this is going to be awful for business once word gets out.”
I felt like crying.
Maybe a forced vacation wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. I needed to try and figure out what was wrong with me, especially before I completely destroyed Victoria’s business in the process.
“I’m so sorry,” I finally managed to croak out. Victoria rushed over and squeezed my shoulders tightly.
“This isn’t your fault,” she said fiercely. “Right now, this is no one’s fault. Unless I can find an electrician to blame.” I managed a weak smile.
How could I possibly tell my best friend that I had unintentionally caused damage to the business she had worked so hard to build? On top of that, Josh could have been seriously hurt. I truly despised the man, but I never wished him any physical harm.
“Let me at least help you sweep up this mess,” I offered. Victoria nodded.
“Okay,” she said, “But I’m still serious about that vacation, Heidi. Help me close the shop down and clean. I’ll handle getting in touch with a contractor and reopening once everything is taken care of. You deserve a break. I can manage this disaster on my own for now.”
If only I could say the same thing about my disaster of a life, I thought grimly.
Chapter 3
It was wel
l after dark by the time we were done cleaning up The Witch’s Brew. After promising Victoria that I would do my best to relax and not worry about work, I hopped in my car and began the drive home. My mom’s house was located on the outskirts of town in an area dense with trees whose leaves were just beginning to turn red and orange. Even though it was a bit chilly outside, I had the windows rolled down in the hopes that the cool night air might clear my head.
The events of the day were almost too much for me to process and I still felt guilty over the mess I had caused in Victoria’s coffee shop. What would have happened if I had been just a little angrier? Would I have done more than just destroy some lights? I shuddered at the possibilities.
Despite all the questions and worries bouncing around in my head, there was one thing I was certain of: if there was anyone in Clover Pointe who might be able to shed some light on my troubling new abilities, it was my mother.
The house I currently shared with her was a mix of stone and brick, which made it look like it had come straight out of a fairytale. Ivy crept along the outer walls and my mom had set out several potted plants in the front yard that overflowed with various flowers and herbs. I parked behind my mom’s bright blue Volkswagen Beetle and followed the lit dirt path to the front porch, relieved when I noticed that the lights were still on inside. At least I wouldn’t have to wait until morning to try and get some answers.
As soon as I opened the door, I was hit with the smell of sage and incense. My eyes watered. My mom must have been burning that stuff all day for the house to smell so strong.
“Ma?” I called into the house, trying not to cough.
“Ah good, you’re back. I was just about to start a cleansing spell and wanted to borrow that white LED candle you keep in your room. I’m all out of my ritual candles and need to improvise.”
Beatrice Redferne, or “Bee” as her friends lovingly called her, was one of the most colorfully dressed sixty-year-olds I knew. And I certainly knew plenty thanks to my mom’s frequent get-togethers at both the house and at The Witch’s Brew. Tonight was no exception. She wore a bright, floor-length yellow dress and at least a dozen different colored bracelets clinked delicately together on her thin wrists. Her hair, once strawberry blonde like mine, was now completely gray and streamed past her shoulders and halfway down her back. In her right hand, she held a smoking bundle of sage, which she waved in my direction.
“Isn’t it a little late for cleansing spells, Ma?” I asked, stepping out of my shoes and walking towards the living room.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she responded. “It’s never too late for a cleansing spell. Besides, things have been feeling a little off around here.”
I looked down guiltily. Maybe there was something to all this magic stuff, after all. And maybe my mom could provide me with some insights that science and medicine obviously couldn’t.
“Yeah, you can borrow my candle. But I was hoping we might talk about something, first?”
She gave me a curious look and stopped waving around the sage bundle.
“Is everything alright?” she asked cautiously. “You were home late this evening. Is Victoria okay? The coffee shop?”
“Sort of,” I said. “Why don’t we talk in the living room?”
“Oh, fine,” my mom relented. “Let me just put this sage away and I’ll make us some tea.”
I made my way into the living room, which was about as colorful and eclectic as my mother. Almost every surface was covered either in plants or strange little knick-knacks that my mom had collected over the years. I set my purse down on the coffee table, right next to a rhinestone-covered skull. I propped up my feet and examined my knee, which was starting to ache again after all the cleaning Victoria and I had done.
Why can’t this weird little power of mine cure aching joints? That would be so much more useful.
My mom walked into the living room, balancing a tray of tea in one hand and carrying a small, silver tin in the other. She pushed the rhinestone skull to the side in order to make room for the tray and handed me the tin.
“It’s a balm my friend Trixie makes,” she said. “Does wonders for my arthritis and it might help your knee.”
I murmured my thanks and rolled up the leg of my yoga pants to apply the odorless balm to my knee, which looked more than a little swollen. My mom took a sip from her cup of tea and I grinned when I caught a whiff lavender. She must have convinced Victoria to give her the special Witch’s Brew recipe.
“Now, what’s all this about, Heidi? You’re usually not one for heart-to-hearts,” Ma said gently. I felt another stab of guilt.
She was right. Growing up, I had always been closer to my dad. After he died, and after my mom took up all the witchy stuff, we had grown even further apart. I thought that moving in after my divorce might be good for both of us, an opportunity to get closer. So far, though, that had proven to be difficult.
But maybe that would change soon.
I rolled my pant leg back down and picked up my own cup of tea, inhaling the calming scent of lavender.
How could I bring this up without either bursting into tears, or sounding completely insane? I decided to start simple.
“Josh showed up at the coffee shop today,” I said. Ma narrowed her eyes and sat her tea down with a loud thunk.
“Oh? And what did that dickhead want?” she asked. I let out a startled laugh. It was no secret that my mom hated Josh for what he had done to me, but she usually left the imaginative insults up to Victoria.
“What?” she asked innocently. “An old woman can’t curse? I think it helps me get my points across effectively.”
“Okay, Ma,” I said, still laughing a little. I took another breath before continuing. “He came by to tell me that he and Cynthia are getting married...and he’s sold the firm.”
“He did what? After all you did for him and that business? He’s just going to sell it without consulting you first?”
I nodded solemnly.
“He said that because I quit the firm voluntarily, then I have no say in his decision to sell. He’s moving to Vegas with Cynthia and opening up a new firm,” I said.
“You and I both know that’s complete bull,” my mom said, picking up her tea again. “What are you going to do? I think you should hire a lawyer. Sue the bastard for all he’s worth.”
“I don’t want to sue him, Ma,” I said. “It’s not worth it. Besides, there’s something else…”
She raised a brow and waited for me to continue.
“I have this weird, early menopause thing going on, I think.”
Ugh, smooth, Heidi. This is totally not menopause and you know it.
My mom sat up a little straighter.
“Go on, I’m listening,” she said. Despite her encouraging tone, I struggled to find the right words to explain my problem.
“Well, maybe I should start with a question, instead,” I said. “When you were going through menopause, did you ever experience this...almost electrical buzzing in your head?”
My mom tilted her head to the side in thought.
“I can’t say I ever did,” she said. “My hot flashes were brutal, but I never experienced any kind of electric feeling.”
Her eyes brightened considerably.
“Sounds supernatural to me,” she said and I had to smile at how giddy she sounded.
“Maybe,” I said. “But don’t get your hopes up.”
I began to describe the strange things I had been experiencing for the past year.
“Well that explains why some of my favorite lamps went missing,” Ma said when I got to the part about the blown-out lights.
“It got worse today,” I said. “At the coffee shop, after Josh showed up, it was more powerful. Almost angry. And when he started insulting me, I just blew up. All the overhead lights shattered and it was like this invisible energy shot out of me and pushed Josh backward. I could have really hurt someone, Ma. And I feel terrible about the damage I did to Victoria’s shop. I
know she’s doing well financially but fixing all those lights isn’t going to be cheap.”
My mom sat for a moment in contemplative silence.
“Hmm,” she finally said. “Follow me. There’s something I want to show you.”
I set my tea back down on the coffee table and curiously followed my mom out of the living room. She led me down the hallway and towards the room she used as a combined home office and altar space. One half of the room housed a large wooden desk, complete with a desktop computer and printer. The other half was dedicated to her altar, which, like the majority of the house, was covered in plants, save for a single crystal ball that sat in the center. Ma moved past the altar and opened up the closet that she used to store important paperwork. She pulled out a wooden box and placed it on the desk.
“This used to belong to your grandmother,” she explained, flipping open the lid of the box. She rummaged through the contents and eventually found what she was looking for. She handed me a thick leather book that looked like it was about a hundred years old. The leather was a supple brown and there was no kind of writing on it, but a pentagram had been embossed on the front and back covers, surrounded by several twisting vines and intricately detailed flowers.
“Some kind of spellbook?” I asked and Ma nodded.
“Your grandma always used to tell me that our family descended from a long line of powerful witches,” she said. “Of course, I believed her. What child doesn’t want to feel like they’re different, after all? Plus, Mother always had a certain special touch with flowers and herbs. No matter what, they never did die.”
She smiled fondly at the memory and I smiled with her. My grandma had died long before I was born, so I never got to meet her. But my mom had always made sure to tell me stories about her when I was growing up. I was more than familiar with my grandma’s talent for helping even the most pitiful looking plants flourish. I always chalked it up to good soil and fertilizer, but my mom always insisted it was magical. Maybe she was right.
“Why are you showing this to me now?” I asked, staring down at my grandma’s spellbook.
My So-Called Magical Life Page 2