Karma's Spell (Magical Midlife in Mystic Hollow Book 1)

by Lacey Carter Andersen

  Knowing Rick, I was certain he would eventually drive his son away just by how he would favor Candy over Travis. No one liked being picked last for the dodgeball team, and Rick was king of avoiding the people he considered less than himself. With Candy buoying him, I knew he'd see Travis as something he didn't need to bother with any more since he'd never really been interested in having kids in the first place.

  “No, it was more than that. It was like Candy was jealous of me. I really can’t stand her.”

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry, honey.” Do not cackle like a madwoman. Do not cackle like a madwoman. Hold it together, Emma. Of course I was sad that the dinner hadn't gone well and Travis hadn't had a good time, but part of me, an embarrassingly large part, wanted Travis to have nothing to do with Rick and Candy.

  “Dad didn’t even notice. I just don’t think I want to have anything to do with them anymore.”

  No happy dances. This isn't a competition. I cleared my throat so I didn't sound overly happy at his statement. “You know I’ll support you, whatever you decide. But he’s your father. Don’t close the door completely.” Even though I didn't want him spending a lot of time with Rick and Candy, I couldn't help but remind my son that having a father was not something he should throw away. He didn't have to vacation with them, and he couldn't really since they were now toads, or frogs, or whatever, but he shouldn't burn that bridge, no matter how much I wanted to hand him the gasoline and a lighter.

  After all, you never know when you might want a pet frog.

  “Okay, maybe, but I do think I’m going to take a step back from him for a while. My engineering classes are harder than I thought, and I just want to be able to focus on them.”

  Good. That might buy me some time to figure out the toad-thing. “That sounds like a good plan. So, how’s everything else?”

  He huffed a little, and I could imagine him going back through the house, picking up his stray socks. “Becca and I are still doing well. We’re both on track to graduate next year, and then we’re talking about where we’re going to go from there.”

  We’re. My baby had a woman he spoke about in the we form. Ever since I’d met Becca, an outgoing, lovely girl going to school to become a teacher, I’d loved her. She was like the daughter I’d never had, but I tried to keep my thoughts to myself. My son was still young enough that he didn’t need that kind of pressure. But now, hearing him talk about what they’d be doing after school made that little flicker of excitement inside of me grow.

  “That’s exciting!” I said, then tried to calm my voice. “Any ideas so far?”

  “Actually...” He hesitated. “I was telling her a little about Mystic Hollow. I hadn’t known you’d gone back at the time, but she was saying that moving to a small town near the ocean might be a lot of fun. Are you planning on staying?”

  For a second I imagined them here and my lips curled into a smile. “I’m thinking about it. The only thing really tying me back there now is you.”

  “Well.” I could hear a smile in his own voice. “Don’t make any plans because of me. Becca and I don’t want to stay local no matter what.”

  It was strange. My son was really growing up. “I’ve never really chosen anything just because I wanted it.” The words left my mouth before I realized it.

  “I know, Mom. But I’m in college, Dad is being Dad, what better time could you choose something just for you?”

  He was right. “How in the world did we raise such an awesome person?”

  “You raised an awesome person,” he said. “Dad drifted in every once and awhile.”

  He wasn’t wrong. “Well, I’m lucky to have you.”

  “Love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too, Pumpkin.” Ugh. I wanted to give him a hug so badly in that moment.

  “Well, better start the laundry and kill some time studying.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  “Bye,” he said, his voice so damn sweet to hear.

  I ended the call and stared at my phone, suddenly weary to my very bones. Today felt like it had lasted forever. Too many things had happened. Henry was still missing and I didn't feel any closer to finding him if I was honest, which sent another wave of emotion through me and had me wanting to curl up into a ball and not face the world anymore. I mean, what more did it want me to give?

  I’d opened the back of the frame, so I slid out the photo and looked at Rick. Stupid emotions. When would they calm down? While another tear snaked down my cheek, I ripped the photo in half, keeping the half with Travis on it in my hand and letting the half of the picture with Rick on it float down to the floor with the broken glass. Then, I put the picture of my parents and brother in the unbroken frame and stuck Travis in there, too, arranging it so I could see all of them. They were a little squished but it worked.

  After unpacking the groceries from my car and putting what was salvageable away, I went and set the photo of my family on the nightstand, and collapsed on the bed, staring at the photo until sleep claimed me. Those four people meant the world to me, even if two of them were gone from this world. I would not let a third go, not this soon, not before his time, no matter what.

  I would save Henry. I had no choice. Not if I wanted to live with myself.

  13

  Emma

  “Wake up.”

  I sat bolt upright in bed and slowly turned my head to the window. The sun was low in the sky, glowing in that golden way it did in autumn, and a pretty damn big blackbird perched on the windowsill. It's feathers gleamed in the low light.

  And it stared at me, its beady eyes seeing too much as it tilted its head to the side as though it needed to get a better view.

  “Hello?” Had I dreamt the call to wake up?

  “Wake up,” it croaked.

  Nope. Definitely real. “I’m awake,” I whispered.

  The bird tilted its head again and let out a normal-sounding caw, then flew away just as my phone vibrated on the bed beside my butt, faintly jiggling the softness of my body that was there. “Oh, shoot,” I muttered and grabbed it. “Hello?”

  “I’ve been calling you for like an hour. Did my bird come?” Beth said by way of greeting.

  “Sorry! I fell asleep. I’m not sure why my phone is on vibrate.” I put it on speaker, then checked the button on the side. “I must’ve hit the button to switch it to silent mode.” That was a problem with this brand of phone.

  “It’s fine, but you don’t have much time. There’s food on its way to you from Deva’s restaurant. Eat it, get ready, and I’ll pick you up at ten.”

  “Wait, why? What?”

  “We’re going to the club, and my agency is helping you find Henry.” She sounded so proud that it made my heart fill with happiness for her. She had built her agency from nothing. It was her thing and no one could take it from her, especially not cheating ex-partners.

  “What about Deva and Carol?”

  “Carol’s employee called in sick tonight, so she has to cover the fabric store, and Deva still does a couple dinner shifts a week. She has that fancy chef of hers, so she can have a life, but she still loves the rush of actually running a shift, rather than just baking pies and pastries in the mornings.”

  “Oh, okay,” I whispered, already feeling like I should just stay in bed, like my body was going to be angry at me for whatever it was I was about to do. I glanced down at the time and saw how late it was already.

  “Isn’t ten a little late?” I felt dumb. Should I have been up earlier?

  Beth laughed in my ear, a pure, joyful sound. “Stop acting like such a forty-year-old.” She snorted in amusement.

  “Beth, honey, we are forty-year-olds.” And then some.

  “Well, I know, but we don’t have to act like it. People are just getting going at ten. It’s kind of early for where we’re going. Just be ready to go.” She wasn't about to back down and I wasn't about to turn down her help.

  “Okay,” I said as a twinkling chime filled the air. “Doorbell. Food must be h
ere.”

  “See you at ten!”

  I hurried to the front door, digging in my purse for some cash for the tip. I only had a few bills, which I hoped would be a decent enough tip for a delivery guy. Then I checked my phone and realized I’d slept all evening and it really wasn’t that far from ten now. I needed to hurry. That long, hot shower I'd been planning to get ready certainly wasn't going to happen. I'd be lucky if I got to eat a few mouthfuls of food and run a comb through my hair.

  After an awkward interaction with the delivery driver, I made my way back to the center of the house. Ignoring the mess in the living room that I’d never really cleaned up, I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water and fork. Then, glancing around, I decided to go out on the back patio and have my dinner there.

  Setting it all down on the little table, I glanced at the beach and spotted a young man walking alone. He had a trash bag in one hand and was wearing gloves. Every so often he bent down and grabbed something, then dropped it in the bag. As I watched him, I realized he was cleaning up the beach. Something warm and pleasant moved through me, and I swear I felt a wave rush out of me. He suddenly stiffened and looked in my direction. I held my breath, and then he kept going.

  Karma. How had I forgotten karma could bring the good with the bad? I didn’t know exactly how karma would reward the kid, but I knew it would. And it was strange. In that moment, after living a lifetime wanting to know deep down that good things could happen to good people, I now had a role in that. It made me proud of my powers for the first time.

  I sighed and looked down at the table. No more time to waste if I wanted to eat. And I really wanted to eat. Unpacking the food, I moaned in delight. Just the smell of whatever was in the box was enough to have my mouth watering and my stomach growling.

  I swallowed a mouthful of drool and cracked open the box. A bowl of rigatoni sat inside, the noodles covered in a creamy-looking sauce that had my mouth watering all over again, not to mention the kale and sausage that were mixed in.

  My fork dove into the dish as though it had a mind of its own, but I knew it was just that I was hungry enough that shoveling food into my mouth was the last thing I was going to be embarrassed about. I speared a few noodles and a bit of kale and popped it in my mouth, having to breathe in because it was still so hot that it was scalding my tongue. The creamy, pumpkiny, tomatoey sauce was luxurious, so much so that I groaned out loud and looked down at my food bowl with skepticism. Was I imagining how good this was?

  Doubtful.

  Deva was just that good.

  I should never have let so much time pass between eating meals she made.

  The next forkful delivered a few more noodles and this time I could taste the touch of sage and browned butter in the sauce. Damn, this woman was good. She should go on Iron Chef or something. Did that show even still exist? I'd loved it but Rick had hated it, said that it took no talent to cook, which was why I did all the cooking. He certainly didn't have the talent for it.

  Bite after bite filled me with a delicious sense of fullness and soon enough the bowl was empty.

  After cramming the to-go container in the garbage can, I went to see what I had to wear. I wasn't exactly excited about the choices that awaited me.

  I hadn’t brought a single thing with me that was appropriate for wearing to a club, unless mom jeans and a v-neck tee were club outfits these days. Wouldn't that be nice? Let women be comfy when they go out. Who wants to stuff themselves into spiked heels and tight dresses with our hair and makeup done to hell and back? Couldn't we just wear whatever we wanted, throw our hair up in a messy bun, and call it done? I mean, that's what they would get eventually anyway. We're all just deceiving ourselves if we expect to be picture perfect all the time. Would Beth still take me to the club in my mom jeans?

  Somehow I doubted it.

  I didn't even check my bags, knowing there was nothing waiting for me in there. Wincing, I opened my closet door.

  As I’d suspected. It was mostly empty. I slid the few hangers from one side to the other. After our parents funeral we had donated most of their clothing, except for a few pieces we couldn't stand to part with. That wasn't my goal, though. No way was I wearing one of my mom's old dresses, unless it was retro night or something, and even then I wouldn't want to risk it. We held on to them because of sentimental reasons, which meant I wasn't about to accidentally wreck it just because I needed something to wear to a vampire club.

  No, my goal was the few things that I'd left behind, ones that Henry had moved in here when he converted my old bedroom. The first thing that caught my eye was my high school cheerleading outfit. There was the bridesmaids dress I'd worn at Deva’s wedding, a few old pairs of jeans that I loved and had decorated myself with patches and embroidery, and a couple flowy, summery skirts that I'd thought were the coolest thing when I bought them, although seeing at them now I probably looked like I belonged at some kind of commune. Then, at the back, behind my high school graduation robe, a slinky black dress. I was surprised I’d even left it, but it had blended in with the dark fabric of my robe. If I hadn't noticed the final hanger hook then I probably wouldn't have looked any further.

  There was no way this thing was fitting. I was a good twenty pounds heavier, and it was only a little bit in the boobs.

  But it was literally the only appropriate thing to wear, so I tried it.

  Oh, damn. What about shoes?

  When it came to shoes, I knew I had too many but I couldn't help it. They were so pretty and there were so many different styles. It was because of how many I had, and therefore had packed, that I thought I may actually have something appropriate to wear. I grabbed my suitcase and rifled through, grinning triumphantly when my fingers slid over some familiar black leather. I’d brought low-heeled, black ankle boots. They’d work great. See, the thing was, even though I had a bunch of shoes, I only ever wore a few pairs. I saved the others for just the right occasion, which never really came.

  Ten minutes later, I had my hair in a high ponytail and a couple of layers of mascara on, some shiny lip gloss, and was ready to step out front with my phone and debit card and ID in my bra to wait for Beth. It was nearly ten, anyway.

  Standing awkwardly, I tugged at my dress. I couldn’t believe this thing had fit after all these years. It was a good thing it was so damn stretchy.

  Spandex was very forgiving, and it wrinkled in the right places to hide the small belly pouch I still carried all these years later from having Travis. Not that I'd trade it for the world.

  I heard Beth coming before she pulled up. When she drove into the driveway, I realized why. She was in a bright red convertible with the top down, blaring pop music from our high school and college years.

  Oh, blast from the past, hello. I hurried around the car and slid into the passenger seat. “Hey, hon!” I called over the music. “Our youth called. It wants to go to bed.”

  She burst out laughing and backed out of the driveway as I yawned for the first time, but not the last.

  The songs effortlessly wove in and out of one another, dredging up all kinds of memories. The song that everyone was obsessed with our senior year came on and I burst out laughing.

  "I can't believe you have this on a playlist. Didn't you get sick of it?" I asked, faux surprise on my face as I secretly loved listening to it again.

  Beth grinned. "I mean, yeah, but it's good to reminisce. Remember when Charlie fell on her ass carrying her lunch and ended up covered in chocolate milk and tomato soup? This was playing on that stereo the popular kids had. See? Memories."

  "Oh, remember when Jimmy and Kristen got written up for dancing too provocatively to this at the homecoming dance?" I gasped, the memory coming out of nowhere. I hadn't thought about either of them in decades.

  "Detention for a week! How could I forget that? Biggest scandal of the year!"

  The song changed to one that was slightly more obscure. "Oh, I bet you don't remember all the lyrics to this one," I said, d
aring her.

  "Please! I know these songs from front to back," Beth said a second before she jumped in on the lyrics, singing along flawlessly.

  Her enthusiasm was such that I couldn't help but join in. The wind whipped my hair around and I lifted my hands, letting the air rush over my skin as I felt the joy at simply being with one of my best friends and singing songs we grew up with fill my heart. We used to do the same thing back in the day. Drive around, sing songs, gossip. For a moment, I flashed back to us as teenagers and wondered what my teen self would think of my adult self. Whatever it was I didn't care. I was happy. It may have just been for a few minutes, but I was truly happy. It had been much longer than I cared to admit since I felt this way. This relaxed, this much myself.

  I sang at the top of my lungs until Beth pulled off the road and into a parking lot. It was pretty much the only club in town, considering we were barely big enough for a second grocery store. The concrete and metal facade had a bit of an ultra modern look to it. All sharp angles and rectangles.

  It looked like every twenty-something in town was here, based on the line at the door. “This doesn’t look like a vampire club,” I said when Beth shut off the engine.

  She grinned at me. “Just you wait.”

  14

  Emma

  The line took an eternity, or at least that's what it felt like. Figuring we’d been standing here at least an hour, I checked my phone, and it had only been about ten minutes. Shit. It was awkward standing with all these young people, each of them looking like they could be hanging out with my son. The guys trying to look suave and badass at the same time while the girls were tittering with each other in dresses that were crazy short and heels that would have given me vertigo.

  Those ten minutes passed like ten hours.

  Each one dragged like the last class of the school day.

  Beth kept up a steady stream of conversation with me barely participating, too distracted by everything around me and the prospect of entering a vampire club. She didn't seem to mind too much, though, as she filled me in on what everyone from our high school was doing now. How many kids each of the popular crowd had now, and how many marriages they'd been through. I felt a pang of disappointment that I would now be in the list of divorced members of our high school class. Honestly, the thought of getting married again was exhausting. I didn't know if it was for me.