by Nova Nelson
But as soon as he said, “We should talk,” I knew things weren’t going to play out that way. The words lacked depth like they were over-rehearsed.
He followed me back into the kitchen, where Anton was tying on his apron for the day, and we went into the manager’s office. No reorganization took place.
I remained standing at the center of the room, and Tanner closed the door behind him, but didn’t advance any further. We were perhaps five feet apart, and his arms were crossed over his chest. This didn’t look good.
He rubbed the toe of his shoe over a scuff mark on the floor, then looked me in the eyes and dove into it. “I had a lot of time to think last night, and I still can’t wrap my head around this. I know I’m probably being stupid. It was just a kiss. It wasn’t like you two”—he looked down at the floor—“you know. But no matter how much I tell myself I should get over it, that it happened months ago, that it was a minor thing … it doesn’t feel that way. I don’t feel that way. I feel betrayed by the two people closest to me, and I can’t move past it yet.” He did me the courtesy of meeting my eyes when he delivered the final blow. “There’s no getting around it. I think we need to take a break.”
I choked slightly on my own spit. “Take a break?” I echoed, feeling the resentment rising. What were we, in high school? “If you need some space, I can give you some space, but what does ‘taking a break’ even mean?”
“It means we work together, we act friendly to each other when others are around, but we don’t spend time together outside of work.”
He’d thought this through more than I’d expected. My options were either to beg him to reconsider or to accept it. Not a hard choice for anyone with pride. “Okay.” Then, “Does that mean you’ll see other women?”
“No,” he said quickly, sounding horrified. “I mean, I still love you, Nora. I won’t see other women. If you decide to run off with Donovan, I guess I just have to accept that.”
“Run off with—” Now he was just being absurd. “Did you not hear what I said last night? I chose you. I choose you. I don’t want to be with Donovan.”
He held up his hands defensively. “I’m just saying, if you do want to be with him, you’re free to. But there’s no one else in Eastwind I have my eye on.”
That did bring me some small bit of comfort, though not much. “And how long will this break be?” I was impatient to wrap up this conversation and get on with my already terrible day.
“I dunno. A week? Maybe longer. Until I can decide what I want to do.”
“You mean whether or not you want to break up with me.” Without warning, I was in the red. I needed to get out of the cramped office with him. “Why don’t you just break up with me, then? If you decide you screwed up, we can get back together.”
“But I don’t know if I want to break up yet, Nora.”
“So instead, you’re just gonna keep me hanging on emotionally until you decide how you’re going to pass judgment.” That moment before, when I’d thought I was in the red? Nothing compared to where I was at present. “Listen, I understand what I did was wrong, and I’m sorry I hurt you, Tanner. Truly. It’s been killing me since it happened. But please, for the love of all things holy, just be a man and break up with me. Don’t pull this ‘taking a break’ nonsense like we’re a couple of indecisive teens.”
He stared at me with a blend of hurt and confusion that looked not unlike disgust. “Fine. I’m breaking up with you. You happy?”
“No. I’m miserable. I guess that means we’re even.” I breezed past him, flinging open the door too quickly and causing the knob to slam against the wall. It wasn’t until I was rolling my tenth set of silverware, and the blood pulsing in my ears quieted, that I was able to slow down enough to think, Oh no, Nora. What have you done?
As far as I’m concerned, there is only one cardinal rule of being a woman in the workplace: never cry at work.
Of course, there are safe zones that don’t count when the tears are imminent. For instance, the bathroom, the parking lot, or a supply closet, if you can pull it off without any coworkers seeing you—those are all fair game to having a good sob.
Before Eastwind, my car was always my crying space of choice. I could park at the back of the lot, put on some sad music to expedite the process (I was on a tight schedule), and aim the AC straight at my eyeballs to handle the redness in the aftermath. Then I would get out with the cell phone to my ear like I’d just been taking a private call the whole time.
Since cars weren’t a thing in Eastwind, that option didn’t exist. And the bathroom was a one-person, and risked letting Tanner overhear me. And the supply closet was too close to Anton’s post in the kitchen.
So I had to hold it in, which kept things interesting as I rode the rollercoaster of emotions, peaking at boiling rage, and bottoming out at self-loathing.
You know, fun break-up stuff.
And all the while, I got to play the part of friendly neighborhood waitress.
Tanner picked up tables, too, but our usual smooth communication just wasn’t there. When both of us decided to hold out on greeting the Bouquets, creating a stalemate as each hoped the other would pick up the table, the couple ended up being ignored for a solid fifteen minutes before Hyacinth approached the counter and asked me in her round-about way if there was something she could do to help, since I was clearly too swamped to even greet them. I apologized, rode the rollercoaster up into rage territory, glued a smile on my face and followed her back to her table to take their order.
When I went to refill Ted’s coffee for the seventh or so time, he yawned emphatically. “Man! I just can’t wake up today.”
“More problems with the Winds of Change?”
The grim reaper nodded. “Oh yeah. They’re really kicking up now. Won’t be long before everything starts to change.”
“Maybe it already has,” I mumbled.
“True, true. But the fact that we’re both able to carry out our morning routines as usual means we’re not even touching the tip of the iceberg.”
Great. The end of my relationship with Tanner wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. “Sounds terrible.”
“No, not necessarily,” Ted said, sipping his scalding coffee. “I mean, yes, change is immensely painful, no getting around that, but sometimes it works out for the best.”
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re really selling it with the ‘immensely painful’ part, but let’s say I don’t want to deal with an upheaval. Is there really nothing I can do to avoid these winds?”
His back stiffened as he perked up, causing his black hood to billow slightly with the moment. “Who said there was nothing you could do to avoid them?”
“Pretty sure you’ve said that before.”
He shrugged a shoulder, the bones scraping together audibly in the socket. “Sure, you can’t stop them, but you can avoid them. Just hop on the first train out of Eastwind, and problem solved. Heh.”
“But new problem created, because then you’re in Avalon.”
He waggled a finger at me. “So true. Plus, the Winds of Change sweep across Avalon more than any place I know. Say, could I get another plate of bacon?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, a suspicion rising to the forefront of my mind. I dropped down to a crouch and looked under the table.
The dark, hairy figure blended in with Ted’s midnight robes, but once I got on eye level, the smell of the dog breath was impossible to miss. “When did you get here?” I asked Grim.
“An hour ago.”
“Didn’t bother to say hello?”
“I could smell your sulking the second I walked inside. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Ah. You were worried I would want to talk about my feelings.”
“Right. I didn’t want to interrupt you not talking to me about your feelings.”
I stood again, addressing Ted. “You shouldn’t pay for his food, you know.”
“I have money to spare. Used to be a custom in Eastwind to p
ut two gold coins on the eyes of the deceased. Folks thought it helped them cross over into the next life.” He shook his head. “Did no such thing. Anyway, over hundreds of years, I ended up with more gold coins than I know what to do with. It’s nice to have someone to spend them on.” He reached underneath the table and patted Grim on the head.
“At least someone cares about me,” Grim said.
“Oh please,” I replied. “He just wanted to be a sugar daddy. Anyone would’ve worked.”
“That’s hurtful.”
“One plate of bacon coming right up. This one’s on me, but I’ll let you get the next one.” I grinned at Ted and turned back toward the kitchen to place the order.
But I paused when I spied Tanner and Stu Manchester engaged in an intense conversation across the countertop.
I pushed forward like it didn’t bother me. But as I passed behind Tanner to replace the near-empty coffee pot on the cradle and brew a fresh batch, I didn’t even receive a “Morning, Ms. Ashcroft,” and yes, that did bother me. What were they talking about that would have Stu so engrossed?
Obviously, I listened in, pretending to tidy only half paying attention as I scooped coffee grounds into the filter.
“Not exactly a competitive pool,” Stu said. “No one wants to be law enforcement in this town. Criticize it? Sure. That’s easy. And, apparently, it’s tons of fun. But actually get out there and solve problems? Nah. No one’s interested in that. Well, except for you.”
Tanner replied, “Will you stay on night shift and put the rookie on days? How would that work?”
“I would probably give the rookie nights. It might be nice to transition from being nocturnal for a while. Although, honestly, the way it is now, I can hardly call myself nocturnal. That implies I sleep during the day, which I rarely do. I’m on shift at night, on call during the day. If folks around here would grow up and handle their own minor disputes during the daylight hours, my life would sure be a lot easier. To answer your question, I don’t care that much whether I work nights or days, so long as I only work one or the other. I’d be open to letting you choose which one you wanted to work.”
Sweet baby jackalope. Tanner was actually going forward with this? Not only did we break up, but now he was actively pursuing a new career that would take him away from Medium Rare?
“I think the nightshift sounds fun,” Tanner said. “More action.”
“Oh, I don’t know that you would have to seek out action like that. When there are only two deputies and one sheriff, the action always finds you.”
I went to drop off the ticket for Ted’s bacon, and when I returned, Stu was alone, working on his piece of pie. If Tanner left the diner, I would be in charge of making the pies. There was no way I could make them as good as Tanner did. In fact, there was so much Tanner did that I wouldn’t be able to duplicate. Would people still come if everyone’s favorite witch was no longer working here?
I sidled up to Stu, and he glanced up. “Morning, Ms. Ashcroft.”
“How’s the recruitment coming?”
He shook his head and forked a large bite of pie into his mouth before adding some coffee to the mix. “Not great. No applicants yet.”
“None?”
“Not a one. Been trying to convince Culpepper. I think I’m just about there.”
“You sure you want to shark my guy? This pie you love so much will leave along with him.”
Stu paused in his chewing, staring forlornly down at his plate. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He sighed heavily. “Law enforcement is all about sacrifice, though. Knowing someone else had my back in a tight squeeze would be worth eating less delicious pie every day. Presumably.”
Dang. There went that tactic.
My say in this matter was limited, and I knew it. While it was a good sign that Tanner hadn’t applied for the position yet, that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t.
I remembered my conversation with Stu, about how it was impossible to maintain a love life when one was in his line of work. If Tanner applied, would that mean we were done for good? I hadn’t realized until that moment how much I’d expected this break-up thing to be temporary. Even as I’d told myself we were done, I hadn’t quite believed it. Tanner had always been my anchor in this new life in this crazy town. My mind simply couldn’t imagine life in Eastwind if he weren’t a major part of it.
But now that I paused to objectively view the path Tanner was going down with the sheriff’s department, my mind started to see it clearly: my life without Tanner.
And just like I knew it was a life where everything was a shade dimmer, where a part of me I’d grown to love would no longer exist, I also knew I had no say in the matter. All I could do was hope Tanner would change his mind.
Despite how many Fifth Wind powers I’d already discovered, in this matter, I was completely powerless.
Chapter Five
I released my grip, and light flooded back into the parlor of Ruby True’s house, flames igniting on wicks, her magical fireless lamps glowing once more.
“Much better,” Ruby said from her chair at the table.
I adjusted my stance, getting my feet firmly under me in the center of the room. I was getting much better at Quenching, but it still made me dizzy and off-balance once I released the light again.
“Now with the wand,” Oliver Bridgewater said. My tutor pushed his thin-rimmed glasses up his nose, nodding encouragingly at me where he stood just a few feet ahead.
This, on the other hand, was quite a different matter.
The wand was still not my friend.
But I did as he instructed, pointing my staurolite-cored wand at the candle on the center of the table. Ruby, who was directly on the other side of it, scooted her chair to the right.
I wasn’t offended by her lack of faith in my abilities because it was well-founded in my history of total failure.
I focused my energy, forcing myself not to cheat by pretending I was using my wand when really I was circumventing the spell and using my Fifth Wind abilities to Quench.
A flick of the wrist and—
“I did it!” I punched the air. “I finally did it!” Man, I’d needed a victory! Any victory would do after the break-up that morning, no matter how small.
Oliver cleared his throat. “You exploded the candle.”
I turned toward him. What did he want from me? “Right. But it’s not lit anymore. Just because I have an unconventional approach doesn’t mean I didn’t accomplish what I set out to do.”
Ruby nodded. “Good point, dear. Just remind me never to let you cast a spell on any of my best china.”
I arched an eyebrow at her. “You have good china?”
“Of course.”
“Where? I’ve never seen it.”
“That’s because I packed it all away and brought out the wooden bowls the day another Fifth Wind witch came to stay with me. Steep learning curve for us, you know.”
A knock on the door—four knocks, to be exact—kept me from responding, and Oliver, Ruby, and I exchanged curious glances. No one was expecting a guest.
Ruby stood. “Oh joy! An unexpected visitor late at night. This has never been the start of something terrible.”
She answered the door, opening it just a crack at first, but once she saw who it was, her posture relaxed, she sighed, and then opened the door wider so Oliver and I could see the guests.
I only recognized one of the two people standing on the doorstep: Mayor Cordelia Esperia.
Based on Oliver’s aghast expression, I probably should have recognized the other woman.
I didn’t have to wonder who she was for long.
“Ms. True,” the mayor said, “I would appreciate it if you would invite us in to speak with you and Ms. Ashcroft.”
Fifth Wind witches business? And straight from the mayor? Not a good sign.
Ruby stepped to the side, allowing them space to pass, but didn’t say a word.
The women glided in.
“Hell
o, Mr. Bridgewater,” said the mayor.
“Mayor Esperia. High Priestess Springsong.” Oliver bowed his head respectfully as he addressed them.
High Priestess? Oh, for fang’s sake. Anyone who demanded a title like that had to have unicorn swirls coming out of her ears.
Regardless, it also meant she probably wielded quite a bit of power, and, sure enough, as she stepped closer, I could feel it radiating from her.
After smiling graciously at Oliver, the high priestess closed the distance between us and offered her hand like a wet rag. Was I supposed to shake it or kiss it? For sure wasn’t doing the latter. “Ms. Ashcroft,” she said, “so nice to finally meet you.”
I shook her hand, and immediately realized that she had been expecting a kiss, at least that’s what her limp-fish grip indicated when I gave her my usual firm grip.
Also, “So nice to finally meet you”? What was up with that nonsense? I didn’t know who she was, but if she knew who I was and wanted to meet me, I wasn’t hard to find. She could have just come and said hello.
Yeah, I was not the high priestess’s biggest fan, if you couldn’t tell.
“Who are you exactly?” I asked. The question made Mayor Esperia’s face tighten, Oliver flinch, and Ruby stifle a giggle.
The high priestess flashed Ruby a scornful glance before returning her attention to me. “I’m the High Priestess Springsong, leader of the Eastwind Coven.”
“Ah, that’s why I don’t know who you are,” I said. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Going door-to-door asking folks if they’ve heard of a man called Jesus Christ, or what?”
Springsong maintained her air of dignity as she said, “I don’t know who that is. We’re here because we have a problem, and we could use the help of two Fifth Winds to solve it with the utmost discretion.”
Ruby cleared her throat. “I hope one will do. As I’ve told you countless times, Serenity, I’m retired.”