by Meg Muldoon
Before leaving the café to talk to Christopher, I’d gone over and for the first time ever, picked up that old heap of wood and straw, and gave him a kiss.
The joy I felt radiating off the broom sent my head spinning.
I smiled just thinking about it as I stood there outside the florist shop. I waited a little longer, then began tapping on the window again with more force than before.
A few seconds later, I saw a figure moving through the darkened shop.
I waved as he got closer.
Christopher might have been self-centered and short-sighted, but he was my friend. And I owed him an apology.
A big one.
He didn’t wave back. In fact, his face went a little pale at the sight of me. He came up to the door, reaching for the latch somewhat hesitantly.
He slowly stuck his head out. The morning sun shined against his balding dome. He must have been so mad at me, he had stopped drinking the special tea I had made for him to cure his baldness.
“We’re not open yet,” he said, coldly.
“Christopher. I’m not here for flowers, and you know it.”
I held up the coffee carrier in my hands that contained two paper cups of Bohemian Joe and a large brown bag of pastries.
But he just narrowed his eyes.
“No thanks. It’s nice and all, but I’ve started a carb-free diet this week.”
“Look, Christopher. I’m really, really sorry about what happened the other day in the kitchen. It wasn’t really you who broke that plate of brownies. It was my energy causing you to react that way.”
“Well I know that, already,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I would never do that to a plate of brownies on my own.”
“I was just under so much stress, you know, with Aunt Viv being in jail and everything… Things got out of hand. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. That was wrong of me.”
His face scrunched up into an unreadable expression, and he crossed his arms tightly against his chest.
“Sometimes, when my emotions get to be too intense, they come out wrong and they affect other people,” I said. “It’s a problem I’ve had since I was a kid. But I’m learning to control it better, and I just hope that I haven’t ruined our friendship with it.”
I studied his face.
“Because if I did, I just… I don’t know if I could live with myself, Christopher. I know sometimes I act indifferent, but I cherish you and—”
“Oh, get over here already,” he said, cutting me off.
I grinned as he gave me a giant hug – so big in fact, he almost knocked over the drink carrier in my hand.
“I’m sorry, too, Ging,” he said. “And you were right. I get so selfish sometimes. After I got home that day, I just felt horrible. I mean, first I was scared, and then I felt horrible. I realized what a jerk I’d been. I didn’t ask about how Aunt Viv was doing, or how you were doing or anything. It was me, me, me all the time. Like some sort of evil just came over me, making me so obsessed with Lilliana Marsh, I couldn’t even think straight. You know I’m not usually like that. But she was all I could think about and it was driving me mad. I really think I was under her spell. Do you think that’s possible? That she’s also a witch of some sort?”
“Well, maybe not a witch, but something dark for sure.”
He put a hand over his heart, looked up at the sky, and let out a long sigh of relief.
“Oh, thank God you came in today,” he said, ushering me into the florist shop and grabbing the bag. “I’ve been walking around with a cloud over my head ever since. I wasn’t sure if you were still mad at me or what. And I just have to say, too, isn’t it lucky that your love potion for me and Lilliana didn’t work?! I mean, Harry, Beesus, and Joseph, can you imagine if she did fall in love with me? I’d be her next victim! Ol’ Christopher would be rolling down the cliff in no time flat! Did you hear, too, that she killed her first husband? Oh, my God! You brought Raspberry Ginger Bear Claws! Those are my very favorite!”
I grinned.
He was still the same old self-absorbed Christopher.
But this time, he made me smile.
Sometimes, you have to accept people for who they are and love them big anyway.
Chapter 63
I had spent nearly two hours at Fabulous Floral, talking to Christopher. Or more like, listening to Christopher. After making up, my friend had started blabbing on like the plate-shattering incident had never happened. He scarfed down Raspberry Ginger Bear Claw after Raspberry Ginger Bear Claw, talking nonstop about the new online dating profile he’d set up, and how he’d already gotten some interest from a few ladies in town wanting to learn more about him.
I’d been happy to have Christopher talk my ear off like old times. But toward the end, I’d been antsy to get back to work at the café. Business was booming again. With Sapphire’s happy scones gone, her mood had stabilized and she was no longer dumping inordinate amounts of sugar and salt into the baked goods. Her excellent baking skills had once again returned, and so had the customers. As I walked toward the café, I could see the line spilling out the door – it made me happy to see that people weren’t holding anything against us.
I noticed Joyce Lewis heading toward the line. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a “Lewis Hardware” t-shirt, and looked like she was on a break from running the downtown branch of her chain of hardware stores.
“Hi, Joyce,” I shouted, picking up my pace to catch up with her.
She turned around. When she saw me, her face lit up.
“Just the lady I was looking for,” she said. “How are you, Ginger? How’s Vivian doing?”
“Great,” I said. “They’re set to release her this afternoon. And I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you, too.”
After Sapphire’s baking fiasco and general higher-than-high-flying mood, I’d decided that I would never again prescribe a tonic for someone without their explicit permission. Because even though Joyce had been well-meaning in her desire to lift her daughter’s spirits, it seemed to me prescribing to a third party was dangerous business. And I decided I wouldn’t bake any more of those scones for Joyce without talking to Sapphire about it first.
“I just wanted to thank you so much again, Ginger, for what you’ve done for my daughter,” Joyce said. “She hasn’t had a scone in several days now, but it’s like she has this new purpose in life. She’s forgotten all about Mark. She’s my old Sapphire.”
I smiled, but it felt tight and forced as I remembered what Sapphire had been saying about Héctor a few days earlier.
Sapphire’s mood had been so out of control lately, I didn’t think she was in her right mind to be breaking up Héctor’s relationship.
“Yeah, about that, Joyce. I’m worried that we gave Sapphire too much tonic at once, and that maybe she’s not in her right mind. She’s happy, but there might be a thing as too much happiness—”
“Well, she seemed in her right mind this morning when she told me that she was applying to culinary school next semester,” Joyce said.
“She is?” I asked, surprised.
Joyce nodded.
“She loves baking and wants to take it to the next level. She was very calm when she told me this morning. She said that you were a big inspiration, and that working at your shop has helped her figure out what she wants to do with the rest of her life.”
“Wow. Really?”
Joyce nodded again.
“I haven’t seen her this serious about something in a long, long while. Maybe never. And I don’t think she would have realized it without those magic scones. I don’t even think she’ll need any more – she’s back to her old self. Better than her old self, actually, because she’s found a direction in life. She’s really come so far, Ginger.”
Sometimes the happiness tonic I’d put in those marionberry scones worked to bring love into somebody’s life. Other times, it helped give them a fresh start.
Sapphire would do great in culinary school. And t
hough I would be sad to see her go, I was happy she’d found her true passion in life.
“That’s just great news, Joyce,” I said. “I tell you, I was little worried about her there for a while.”
“Me, too,” Joyce said.
She stared at me for a moment.
“Ginger – I know that you said you won’t take any money from me for helping Sapphire. But some of us on the city council… well, we’ve had an idea.”
City Council? What was she talking about?
“Your aunt has a lot of friends in this town, Ginger,” Joyce said. “I know it probably hasn’t felt that way lately. But she’s helped a lot of people in Broomfield Bay over the years. And there’s a group of us that feel terrible about the ordeal the police have put her through. As a city councilor in this town, I feel mortified by what’s taken place. It was shameful business.”
I couldn’t agree more.
“I know that the Historical Society is trying to declare Vivian’s house a landmark,” Joyce said. “And I know that Vivian’s been fighting them on it but doesn’t have the money to paint the house.”
I let out a long breath.
I supposed the whole town must have known about our money woes by now.
“Well, as an apology and a thank you to Vivian for what she’s done to help the people in this town, Lewis Hardware, along with the city council, would like to donate time and materials to get that lovely old Victorian painted this summer.”
My jaw dropped.
“That way, Vivian can keep the Victorian exactly how she wants it, without the town interfering.”
I struggled for words.
“Joyce, that is… Wow. That’s so nice, but… but we really couldn’t accept something that massive,” I said. “I know how much it would cost to paint that big house, and I don’t think Aunt Viv would feel right about—”
“Well, she’s got two days to get to feeling right about it,” Joyce said, interrupting me. “Workers from Lewis Hardware are coming by on Friday, and that’s that.”
“But Joyce, I really think—”
“We owe your aunt and you, too, Ginger,” she said. “And I think it’s high time this town shows you some appreciation.”
I started saying something else, but then I stopped.
I was choked with emotion and couldn’t speak.
Finally, I just smiled.
“Thank you, Joyce,” I said. “This means… this means so much to me.”
And I knew it would mean so much to Aunt Viv, too.
We’d both been outsiders so long – the witches of Broomfield Bay. Perpetual outcasts who despite living in this town all our lives, had never really been embraced by our fellow residents.
To hear that we weren’t so alone after all, felt really, really good.
Chapter 64
Aunt Viv was probably the only person who had ever left jail looking younger than she had when she’d gone in. Her face looked bright and sun-kissed and I could have sworn she had fewer wrinkles under her eyes than before her arrest.
“Didn’t I tell you, hon, that everything was going to turn out just peachy?”
She wrapped her arms around me, giving me a warm, fuzzy big-hearted hug.
For a while there, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to see her except through a plate of smudged prison glass.
She hugged me for a long minute in the pick-up area behind the Brandon County Jail where they release prisoners whose cases had been dropped or who have been found innocent. That was a good thing, since a group of reporters was camped out in front of the jail waiting for her release.
We were lucky to have this moment to ourselves.
“It’s so good to see you,” I said.
Aunt Viv pinched my cheek.
“I hope you didn’t worry about me too bad.”
“What, me? Worry? You know that’s not in my nature, Aunt Viv,” I said.
“Well, c’mon,” she said, putting an arm around my shoulder and heading toward her pink VW Bug, which I’d driven here knowing she’d want to drive back home with the windows down. “I’m making my special salmon chowder tonight.”
“Aunt Viv, that’s not how it works,” I said. “I’m the one who’s supposed to make you dinner. I already picked fresh ingredients from the garden for your favorite – a French Tomato Tart. And besides, you must be exhausted from—”
I stopped. I didn’t know what I was saying. She looked the opposite of exhausted. She looked… radiant.
And anyway, it would be bad manners to argue with a witch who had just gotten her freedom back.
“Well, whatever you want,” I said.
She climbed into the passengers’ side of the car.
“Take me home to Broomfield Bay, Ginger Marie!”
Chapter 65
“I still don’t know why Lilliana broke into our house,” I said, as we drove by the pack of reporters who were still waiting out in front of the jail, not realizing Aunt Viv had just been released. “Or why she confessed to Penelope’s murder, but is adamant about not being the one who vandalized the Victorian.”
I’d just gotten done telling Aunt Viv all about the break-in and about her shattered Stevie Nicks records. She’d been saddened by the news, but not nearly as sad as I thought she’d have been to lose so many precious, irreplaceable Stevie-related items.
“Who knows, Ginger Marie. Crazy is just crazy sometimes. People like Lilliana Marsh don’t always make much sense.”
She started playing with the radio dial.
“But none of it really matters now. You know why, Ginger?”
“Why?”
“Because the curse is lifted, hon! Hallelujah, the curse is lifted!”
“Gold Dust Woman” came on the radio, and Aunt Viv started swaying in her seat, waving her arms above her head, her lips fixed in a wild smile.
I waited until the song was over to ask what she meant. I figured she’d earned a little dancing time after the hardship of jail.
***
“Okay, so can you finally tell me what all this curse business is about?” I said, reaching for the radio knob and turning it down. We were only about ten minutes from home. “I’ve been dying to know what you’ve been talking about.”
Aunt Viv’s face lit up.
“Oh. Thanks for reminding me.”
She pulled down the visor and looked in the little mirror. Then she reached into the glove compartment, rummaging around until she found the tube of coral pink lipstick and began applying it liberally.
I waited patiently.
“You ready for a story, hon?”
I nodded.
“Well, in all my life, I’ve only had two big heartbreaks. I might be wise now, Ginger, but in my younger days, I once did something very, very stupid. Something your Grandma would have been mortified about, had she known.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Okay, so you know how after high school, Penelope stole Jerry Ashby away from me? Well, there I was, 21 years old, having just lost the love of my life to my best friend. Or so I thought, at the time. And I was absolutely devastated. It felt like my guts had just been ripped out by a hammerhead shark. You see, Jerry was my first love, and first loves have that kind of power over you. They make you do… they make you do crazy things.”
She paused. She knew that I knew exactly what she was talking about.
“I couldn’t stand it, Ginger Marie, I really couldn’t. At first, I thought it might just be a fling between Penelope and him, and that sooner or later Jerry would come back to me. I would have taken him back, too, without any hesitation whatsoever. That’s how desperate I was! But then they got engaged, and Penny and Jerry became Broomfield Bay’s golden couple. And it just hurt more than anything in the world. I loved him so much, and I knew that she didn’t. At least, not like I did. And I was convinced that she’d stolen him more out of spite than anything. Penelope never could stand to see me too happy.”
She gazed out at the glittering ocean b
elow as we drove along the rugged cliffs of the coastal highway.
“One night, I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I wanted him so bad, Ginger. I was crazy – love drunk. Completely out of my mind. I mean it. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I was withering away to nothing. I had to do something. None of my regular love elixirs or spells were working. He was still with her.
“So I did… I did something I shouldn’t have ever, ever done.”
She sucked in a big breath.
“You know that little ruby bottle in our collection? The one from your grandma? The one I told you to never, ever use?”
I didn’t say anything. My throat went dry.
I kept my eyes on the road.
“Well, I told you not to use it for a reason, Ginger Marie. Because it’s a very powerful elixir. Very, very powerful. Only intended to be used in absolute emergencies to save a life or to stop a huge catastrophic event. A strictly life and death emergency kind of elixir. In all her time, your grandma only used it once for a friend – Agnes Campbell. This woman’s husband was off fighting in the South Pacific during World War II, and Agnes had a terrible vision one night that he would be killed in an explosion. Well, she asked your grandma for help, to bring her husband back to her – to save him from his impending death. Your grandma used that little red bottle of elixir in a powerful spell. A couple of days later, Agnes got a knock on the door – she thought it was a telegram, telling her that her husband died. But Stevie Nicks in Sedona, if it wasn’t Agnes’ husband himself standing there. He’d gotten a sudden shore leave while the rest of his company was sent to a big battle. Most of that company died or was wounded. Meanwhile, Agnes’ husband survived the war. They both lived well into their nineties and had six children.”
Aunt Viv looked pleased by the story.
“Yep. Your grandma saved that man’s life. She was a very powerful witch.”
She let out a sigh.
“So you see, the ruby potion is only meant for cases like that. It’s too powerful for milder causes, like getting someone to fall back in love with you. Or making people see things your way. If you use it for those purposes, there’s a price to pay. And the witch is the one who has to pay it.”