“I need to talk to you about this potion you gave me.” Around me, wind chimes sang their peaceful tune blown by a ghostly breeze.
“I noticed you were wearing it.” Who wouldn’t? People across the street could probably tell. “Is it working?” She appeared with two cups of steaming tea and sat in front of me.
“If you mean working as in keeping people away, yes. My students and other staff in school didn’t want to be around me much today.” Afraid I was being too abrasive, I added, “But I haven’t seen Jem yet today, so I don’t know.”
Marcy giggled. “It’s a bit… powerful at first, but it does fade the longer you wear it. I should have warned you to wear it around the house for the first couple days.” You think? Her curls bounced around her face, a giant black bow gracing the top of her head. “But it is very efficient. It will keep Jem away. Of course….” Her voice trailed off and she stared into space as if going into a trance.
A little nervous about her tone, I reached for my teacup, almost burning my fingers in the process. “Of course what?”
“It only works if that’s what you really want.” What? I didn’t see that clause in our unwritten contract. I had to want it? Why would I need it if I wanted it? I would just walk away. “Like most things in life, magic needs motivation behind it to work. If deep down inside that’s not what you wish, the magic won’t work.”
Paralyzed for a moment, I blinked a couple times to convince myself I wasn’t dreaming. The young witch was studying me with her big, round brown eyes. There was a sharp intelligence beneath all her kookiness. Maybe she is a real witch. I sighed. What did I expect from a stinky green potion? Did I really expect it to work?
“You’re still in love with him.” It wasn’t a question. I choked on my tea and was seized by a bout of unstoppable coughing. Marcy stood up and came to gently tap my back. “Why do you fight it? He’s obviously in love with you, too.”
Once I got my coughing under control, I stared up at my tormentor in disbelief. “Marcy, not that it’s any of your business, but I have a boyfriend.”
She shrugged. “So what? People break up for all kinds of reasons. Being in love with somebody else seems to me like an excellent reason for a breakup.” Her logic set my nerves on edge.
“Jem left me for five years without a word and before that we were only friends. He never felt anything else for me.” Why was I explaining all of this to a stranger? Or was I trying to justify it to myself?
“People make mistakes all the time. It’s what makes us human. Whatever happened back then, it’s in the past.” Marcy was running a very real risk of being slapped. I knew all of that, but none of it helped with the current situation. “I would offer you a fall-out-of-love potion, but such a thing does not exist. Once you’re hooked, you can fight it like hell, but all you’re going to do is tear out your heart and bleed.”
My face was burning in rage or shame—not completely sure which. She was right, of course. That didn’t mean I was going to do what she was suggesting. Dave was too much of a good guy for me to drop him like a hot potato, and Jem was too much of a loose cannon for me to just jump into a relationship with him. “Thank you, Marcy.” For being totally unhelpful. I got up and handed her my empty cup. “I have a lot to think about.” And a long shower to take.
What was I going to do about this whole mess? Until Jem’s call, that day in school, I was so sure I had put him behind me, the Boy Who Left. Like most things I had ever been certain about, this certainty totally collapsed as soon as I heard his voice and locked my eyes with his blue diamonds. Why couldn’t he have realized he loved me before he left with that floozy to Paris? Why had he been so clueless back then? Why had I never told him how I felt? Realizing that I was as guilty, even if only by omission, as he was in this catastrophe, I did the only thing a rational, professional twenty-nine-year-old would do: I ducked into the closest ice-cream shop and ordered a triple-scoop butter-pecan bowl buried in a mountain of whipped cream.
I was digging through the ice cream like an eager archaeologist looking for a precious artifact when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I almost fell off my chair, and half of the spoonful heading to my mouth dripped hopelessly onto the tabletop.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” The deep voice of my boyfriend made me drop the rest of the precious dairy into the bowl, spoon and all.
Hoping I was not wearing the whipped cream anywhere on my face or clothes, I turned around to face him. Dave stood by me in all his never-ending height, a warm smile on his lips and an amused twinkle in his eyes. “Dave, you caught me at a very delicate moment of Operation: Ice Cream. You could have caused a serious spillage incident.” He laughed and once again I was reminded of how wonderful he was, how he never seemed to get upset with me no matter how ornery I was. “Sit down. You’re giving me vertigo.”
Dave sat beside me, eying my ice cream, now slightly diminished in size but still spectacularly yummy-looking. “That looks great. I think I’ll get a cone.” Before I could say anything, he stood and walked to the front counter to order some ice cream.
I watched him with longing in my heart. Not the sexual longing I often felt when he was around, but a different kind; a yearning for things to be different, to have for him the feelings I had for Jem. Tears danced in my eyes and I quickly wiped them away before he noticed them. Why did love have to be so complicated? He turned around with a huge sugar cone in his hand and I couldn’t help it; I jumped off my seat, ran to him, and clumsily hugged him.
He stumbled backward a little. “Whoa… not that I’m complaining, but whoa….” I heard—and felt—him chuckle, my face still glued to his midriff. “Let’s sit down before we cause another serious spillage.” So we did, and with no disastrous consequences. He got busy with the cone right away as I watched him, my fingers wrapped around the spoon and my heart twisted in a painful mixture of guilt and warmth. Guilt for my lingering feelings for the one who had left me and warmth for the man sitting across from me, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
My unhappy and oversugared stomach growled loudly as we later walked home. Dave’s arm over my shoulders, he often had to slow his pace to give my short legs time to catch up. “Am I imagining things, or are you wearing a new perfume?” Oh no, he noticed!
“I bought it from a little witch who obviously has no business in the perfume world.” I giggled softly. I was not going to tell him it was supposed to be a magic potion. “Not very nice, is it?”
“God, no. It makes me want to run away and hide.” Huh? He feels like running? Wrong man, wrong man…. “Are you heading home?”
“Yes, Celia is coming over for dinner so I can help her with this knitting project she’s working on. Like I can give her a lot of help.” I could knit, but my expertise was so basic it could hardly be called that. I guess, compared to my sister, I had mad skills with the needles. “Where are you going?”
“Meeting with a client. The one with the urban yard project.” Was I imagining it or was he avoiding my eye? “Challenging but rewarding. When we’re done it’s going to look amazing.” I hardly doubted it. He could perform miracles with a little grass and a few pots. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
Celia was already waiting for me at home, a giant ball of yarn sitting beside her on the couch and a bewildered look on her face. “What the hell do I do with these?” She was waving two very thick knitting needles above her head. “I suppose I could go back to our Asian roots and do the stereotypical thing.” She gestured as if she were about to stick the needles in her hair.
I laughed. “Leave it to you to make something so simple look so hard.” I left her struggling with the implements and went into my room to change. “What exactly do you want to knit?” I yelled, sliding into a pair of comfy yoga pants.
“Well, I really want to knit this funky hat I saw in a magazine, but I’ll probably stick with a scarf.” I joined her on the couch, looking at the ball of yarn. “Do you think that’s enough yarn?”
&nb
sp; I almost choked. “You have enough to knit an elephant’s blanket. Your yarn and the size of your needles will make for a quick and easy knit.”
I was not kidding about how my sister made easy things complicated. I watched half-amused as she proceeded to tangle up the yarn and then spend the remainder of the evening working out the knots and tangles. By the time she left not one stitch had been made.
Spending time with my sister was always interesting, even if a little frustrating at times. She had an early shift the next day, so she left me with a little time to kick back and read. Being a teacher, I read a lot, but not for pleasure. I read tons of children’s stories on a daily basis and way too many professional books. There was a romantic read I had been dying to dive into. Curled up on the couch, cup of tea in hand, I prepared myself for an evening of swooning romantic literature.
A soft knock stirred me from sleep. Damn! I had fallen asleep shortly after opening the book. My students were like little vampires that sucked up all my energy. Who in heaven’s name would be calling this late? I glanced at the clock and realized it was only nine thirty. Shit, I was an old woman in the body of a twenty-nine-year-old.
“Who’s there?” I asked, peeking through the peephole on the door. Bright blue eyes met mine. “Jem?” I opened the door and stared, annoyed, at him. “What do you want, Jem? It’s late.”
“It’s only nine thirty, grandma.” He stared into my eyes with that boyish manner of his, and my heart fluttered in my chest. “Can I come in?”
I wanted to say no, but then again, a conversation with Jem at the door would attract the curiosity of my neighbors. Ms. Larson, from next door, was a terrible gossip who wrote for the community newspaper. Anything she heard would surely end up either on the pages of the circular or on Facebook. I waved him in.
“What’s that smell?” I had never got around to taking a shower. I guessed the offensive smell still lingered.
“Sorry, a bad perfume I bought.” I wrapped the cotton sweater around me and headed to the living room.
“Bad? I think it smells wonderful.” That was priceless. The man I was trying to push away actually liked the smell. Good job, Marcy. “You should wear it more often. It smells of the ocean and open skies.” What was wrong with his nose? It smelled like old burnt incense, at best.
“You need to stop following me around like this.” We sat on the couch, a couple of feet apart. Jem’s sunny-sky eyes were glued to mine and I shuffled, uncomfortable under his stare. “You shouldn’t be here, Jeremy Peter.” The use of his full name no longer seemed to irritate him, for he smiled at me then, a generous, boyish smile that turned my heart to putty. “Stop that!” It came out before I could stop myself.
“Stop what?” He tilted his head like a bird, unaware of his charm. Or was he?
“The smiles, the looks… all of it, Jem. It’s not fair to me or to Dave.” I sounded so pathetic I think I threw up inside my mouth a little. Grow a pair, girl. “You have to stop this little game you’re playing, Jem. Please.”
To his credit he did look a little remorseful, a shadow crossing his eyes and his sunny smile turning into a frown. “I’m not playing games, Emily Rose. I found out too late that it was you I loved all along. I wasted five years, thanks to my stupidity, and now all I’m doing is trying to regain some control over my life again.” He looked down at the floor for a moment. “If you don’t feel the same, I’ll leave you alone.”
“I told you that already.” I sure hoped my heart was the liar here. “I’m in a relationship now and there is no room in my life for you anymore.”
“That’s not the same as saying you don’t love me.” That simple statement, punctuated with a stab from his piercing eyes, made me wince. He was right, of course. Not that I was ready to admit it to him or myself. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me, and I will leave you alone forever.”
Stubbornly, I stared him in the eye, my mouth twitching to say the words my heart wouldn’t allow me to utter. For a moment it was as if we had gone back to our childhood when we used to play staring contests. Back then he always won because I never seemed to be able to look into his sweet, handsome face without smiling. I wasn’t having any better luck this time. I so wanted to say the words, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, tears climbed up from my heart and danced in my eyes, much to my frustration.
Jem jumped from his perch on the couch and knelt in front of me, covering my hands with his. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt you. Forget I said anything. This can’t be easy for you.” His voice was soft and mellow, like honey to my ears and my heart. In spite of myself, I laced my fingers through his and held on for dear life. “I love you, Emily Rose, and I know I hurt you when I left. I will give you as much time as you need to get over being angry for what I did and be my friend again. I need my best friend. Okay?” I nodded my agreement like the fool I was. “Don’t cry. I will leave now. But before I do, Em….” He paused, hesitated for a nanosecond, and planted a soft kiss on my cheek before whispering into my ear, “You should use that perfume more often.”
CHAPTER SIX
__________
Phones and Thugs
Dave had been in a hurry to get to his job and left me more than a little annoyed. I wanted to be with him, renew my resolve to stay with him in spite of what my heart was telling me. His delicious kisses and warm, protective arms could change the will of my heart, I was sure of it. But lately he was a little distracted by his work, always running off somewhere, forever putting distance between us. Damn you, Dave!
I walked aimlessly down the street. I had planned to spend some time in Dave’s arms this afternoon, listening to his sweet whisperings as we curled together on my couch. Now that plans had suddenly changed, I was lost. I could go home and read. God knew I hadn’t done much of that lately. A yoga class may be therapeutic, but I hadn’t brought any gear. Celia was working, and I didn’t feel like sitting alone in the coffee shop.
I found myself walking through the now familiar door of Polka Dots & Eye of Newt.
“Well, hello there, stranger,” I heard the melodic voice of the little witch say. Where was she? Scanning the store, I finally found her. Correction, I found her disembodied head on one of the shelves. It scared the crap out of me until she moved and I realized she had been standing behind it. I let out a loud sigh of relief. “You look a little spooked.”
That was a serious understatement. My heart had jumped to my mouth and back down again, and I tried to regain my regular breathing. “I thought…. Never mind. Are you busy?” The store was empty as usual. I wondered if she ever did any business.
“You came at the right time.” When was it not the right time? “Tea?”
“No, I’m okay. I just had some coffee with my boyfriend.” I sat down on the couch, and Marcy came to sit beside me. “I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I would come and ask you something.”
She gave me a huge smile, her eyes twinkling behind the big-framed glasses. “You are always welcome here, sweetie. What can I do for you today?”
“Marcy, what does it mean when someone really likes the smell of the potion you sold me?” Until that moment I hadn’t even known I was going to ask. However, if I were honest with myself, that question had been hanging on the tip of my tongue since I last had seen Jem, almost a week ago. True to his word, he hadn’t shown up since then.
Her smile widened. “But that’s wonderful! Dave liked it, then?” Why was she assuming it was Dave? “I’m glad I was wrong. That means he is the one your heart truly wants.” Shit! No, no, no, this was not good. “Only your heart’s true desire will perceive that scent as being something wonderful. Ahh, the power of love is truly amazing.” Her eyes had gone all misty. Damned if the red-haired witch was not a hopeless romantic.
“Unfortunately, Marcy, Dave was not the one who thought it was great.” Why was I telling her this? “Dave thought it was awful.”
Her smile fell and she tilted her head a little. “Then who?”
A surprised look of realization crossed her face. “Oh no, it was Jem, wasn’t it? So, I was right after all.” She took my hand. Her fingers were cold, but her touch was soothing. I was not feeling too happy right now. “I’m so sorry. I know how much you wanted it to be Dave. But our hearts have a mind of their own and we can’t pick and choose whom we fall for.”
I wanted to cry or smack myself over the head for being so stupid and believing in that superstitious crock, but deep down inside I knew there was truth to it. I had never really fallen out of love with my best friend. I did love Dave very much, just not the way I loved Jem. I hated myself at that moment, and I hated that I felt so miserable. Tears started rolling down my cheeks.
“Well, Marcy, thank you for trying.” Holy crap, was I really sobbing?
Marcy enveloped me with her skinny arms, her fuzzy pink sweater tickling my nose. I worried that I would get that soft garment wet and sticky with my crying snot. Nonsensically, that made me cry even more. “You’ll be all right. Everything will turn out okay.” The witch’s sparkly voice had toned down somehow, and I began to relax. “Good girl. Here are some tissues.”
My hands packed with soft tissues, I blew my nose hard and loud. “I have to make a choice.” I was speaking more to myself than Marcy. “It won’t be easy, but I must choose.” Her wild red hair bounced back and forth as she nodded. I blew my nose again and stood up. “I will go straight to Jem’s house and tell him I never want to see him again.”
Marcy blinked. “Are you sure that’s what you really want?”
“Absolutely!” I grabbed my purse and headed for the door, my step quick and steady. “I need someone I can trust, who won’t leave me. Someone who will be by my side always. Thank you, Marcy. You’ve been a great help.”
From the corner of my eye I saw her pull out her cell phone and dial a number. The future waited, so I didn’t stop to think whom she might be calling in such a hurry. I broke through the daylight outside and walked resolutely to my car. I was going to drive to Jem’s place and tell him my decision.
Loved You Always Page 6