“What can I get for you this wonderful snowy morning?” Gerald stood behind the counter rubbing his fingers over his mustache. He took the top off one of the many tea leaf jars behind the counter and sprinkled them in a cup of tea and handed it to one of his servers. Gerald had the spiritual gift of tea reading. I had to be very careful while drinking his fine brew. He was known to be a rule breaker. “I’ve got fresh out-of-the-oven scones, spinach soufflé, and the best cranberry muffins this side of the Mississippi River.”
I rubbed my hands together looking at all the goodies behind the glass display case. Everything looked and smelled so fresh, making it hard to decide.
“Or one of everything.” Gerald winked. He must’ve seen the internal dilemma I was having. “God knows Petunia has tried them all.”
“How is she feeling lately?” I asked, trying to nudge a little information from him.
Petunia and Gerald were going to have their first baby. Arabella was his daughter with his first wife, but there was no way I was going to think about her. She was evil and gone from Whispering Falls, though it was hard to forget about her since she did put a death wish next to my name in the Universe, swearing I would see her again. That was a day I wasn’t looking forward to.
“She’s eating me out of stock. I’m spending every single night in here trying to play catch up.” He fluffed up the branches on the small Christmas tree sitting on top of the glass counter. “This.” He shoved his hands toward the small fake evergreen. “Petunia refuses to participate in any of this.” He shook his head. His eyes came up to study my face.
I tried not to show any reaction to Petunia’s odd behavior.
“Well,” I sucked in a deep breath, “I hear hormones can do funny things when you are pregnant. Has she seen her doctor?”
“We go today.” He sounded like they had already talked about the hormone thing. “She refused to vote at the council meeting. It was a unanimous vote with the other council members. I just don’t get it.”
“I’m sure she will come around.” I pointed to the egg soufflé. “I’ll take one of those to go and a big cup of hot coffee.” I held my bag close to me knowing my June Gem’s was tucked inside and was going to come in handy later this afternoon. “Say, what can you tell me about the economy?” I asked.
“Excuse me.” A tall willowy woman with shoulder-length hair that had a glimpse of copper in the tea shop’s light shoved her way next to me. “I need a tea with some stress relief.” She tapped her finger on the counter, insisting her problems were more important than the line of customers behind her.
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Gerald handed me my coffee and soufflé in a bag, I exchanged with him the exact cash for my breakfast. “You are going to have to get in line with the rest of the customers.”
“I never,” she called loudly, jerking off her coat. Her body resembled that of a dancer. “I’m sure these people will understand; I’m stressed due to the season.”
“We all are, lady,” a customer in line called out in a sarcastic tone.
“Hi,” I butted in. “I’m June Heal. I own A Charming Cure a couple of shops down. I have just the thing you need in homeopathic form to help relieve your stress.” I took her by the arm and gently guided her to the back of the line. “If you wait in line and get a to-go tea, come on down and I’ll give you a little something that is completely natural to help relieve your stress.”
One sharply pointed brow rose in interest. My nerves tingled waiting for her answer.
“Free?” Her tone held a note of triumph.
“Nothing is free.” I politely shook my head, touching her arm trying to get an intuition read out on what was the root of her stress. My intuitive gift gave me the inside scoop on the real reason for the stress this woman was feeling. Family. The image of this woman hosting the big family Christmas dinner hit my gut. I knew exactly what little extra oomph I needed to put in her homeopathic cure. “I’ll see you in a minute. Gerald doesn’t take very long. You’ll be through this line in no time.”
“Well, it’s not like I have anything else to do since we are staying at the Full Moon Treesort.” She straightened her shoulders, making her even more willowy and tall.
I turned back toward Gerald. His lips whispered a thank you under his mustache. I looked into his eyes and knew he and Petunia were going to be okay, but I was going to have to wait to find out about the state of the economy from him when he wasn’t so busy.
Before I knew it, I was out the tea shop door and back on the sidewalk making my way down to my shop with just enough time to get in there and open for the day.
“Dashing through the snow,” the sweet harmony of the carolers in front of Ever After Books echoed throughout the village.
They stood on the bookstore’s steps in long red robes with furry cuffs. The gentlemen were in top hats and black coat tails. Their chins pointed to the sky and their hands held the bells jingling out the rhythm. Ophelia had two tall nutcracker soldiers on each side of her shop door standing at attention over the carolers. The railing up the steps had garland twirled around it.
“Outta the way!” A loud shrill voice echoed from behind me, and the sounds of heavy footsteps followed.
A wave of queasiness overcame me and before I could get out of the way, a rush of cold wind flew by me. A flash flew by me. Patience Karima was riding on top of her pet ostrich. Her arms flailed in the air trying to grab ahold of the green Christmas tree tinsel wrapped around the bird’s neck as though it were a rein, only she was grabbing the poor bird’s feathers, plucking them out. It looked like the pinch of June’s Gem I gave the feathered creature had given him a sugary buzz.
“Whoa! Whoa!” Patience screamed as the bird darted in and out of the crowded sidewalk.
The roar of the ambulance barreling down the main street caused more chaos, creating even more crowded streets. There was a big red ball stuck on the hood of the ambulance and deer antlers on each side.
“I’m going to kill that bird!” Constance, Patience’s sister, had her head stuck out of the ambulance window. “Poke it in the eye! In the eye!” Constance yelled.
I glanced back at Two Sisters and a Funeral Home, the only funeral home in Whispering Falls; it was owned by the Karima sisters, who were Ghost Whisperers. The entire front yard of the funeral home was littered with every single inflatable Christmas decoration you could think of. The old Victorian funeral home was outlined with the lights. There was not a shingle to be seen on the roof. I was sure Two Sisters and a Funeral could be seen from outer space.
“Bah hum bug!” Constance yelled, pounding her fist into the air.
Chapter Two
A Charming Cure needed a little holiday cheer like the other shops. The purple and white wisteria vine that had grown up and around the door of my shop was still vibrant but didn’t give the Christmas cheer. Even the two window boxes underneath the shop window could use a little holiday spirit.
I stopped short of the shop gate. Arabella and Bella were already past my shop and up the ladder putting a wreath on the carriage light in front of A Cleansing Spirit Spa, the shop next to mine.
“Arabella, I know you are so busy, but do you think you could work your magic on my shop?” I twirled my finger toward the vine and window boxes.
“Of course. I have just the thing,” she called from over her shoulder, sticking the poinsettia leaves in the green wreath, topping it off with a big red bow. “We only have a couple more and I’ll get on it.”
“Thank you!” I shouted over the jingling bells, only I noticed they weren’t almost finished. They still had all the carriage lights on the other side of the street.
Mr. Prince Charming trotted up the shop steps, his tail sticking straight up in the air with jingle bells attached to the tip. He swayed his tail in the air giving a little jingle here and there before his tail deliberately darted in the air three times.
Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. His tail pulsed to the rhythm of the Chris
tmas song. The voice from the bottom of my bag sang along with him. Madame Torres.
“Not you too,” I groaned sticking my key into the shop door and opening it.
Mr. Prince Charming darted in, his tail not missing a beat. Neither did Madame Torres, though she was a wee-bit off tune. Neither of them got along great with the other, but the holiday cheer was sure bringing them together.
I shut the door behind me and flipped on the light, not without looking across the street at the Whispering Falls Police Station. There was even a Christmas tree in the station’s front window.
My mind drifted to Ophelia and how she had mentioned Colton had been working a lot. There was nothing going on in Whispering Falls that required both Colton and Oscar to work. Something wasn’t right because Oscar was also working a lot. I would have to wait until tonight to ask Oscar.
The red tablecloths on the round display tables gave a nice holiday feel to the shop. The low lights gave the homeopathic cure shop a warm inviting atmosphere. I had even made one of my cauldrons into a hot apple cider station nestled next to the door for the shop guests to warm themselves on the snowy day as soon as they entered.
All the potion bottles on the tables and on the wall displays were filled and ready to be taken home with the right customer. The front display table had a sign labeled Stress. All of them were made up of lavender oil along with a dash of slippery elm, but sometimes a little more was needed to heal the mental fatigue often associated with holiday stress.
I ran my hand over the stress display tablecloth and tugged at the edge to get out any wrinkles before I walked to the back of the shop and flipped on my cauldron behind the partition. It was a good covering to hide my biggest secret. If customers saw me tossing things in the big pot, they would know our village secret and that wasn’t something we wanted to get out.
Madame Torres hummed from the bottom of my bag, reminding me she was still in there. I hung the bag on the stool behind the counter and dug to the bottom, pulling her out.
“I get it.” I smiled, bringing her face to face with me. “I’m getting into the spirit. Little did you know that before you, I celebrated Christmas and we decorated every year and gave out presents. Whispering Falls is behind the times.”
Her ball glowed a winter white. Her face appeared, taking up the space. Her standard brightly colored face with fire engine red lips and purple eye shadow had been replaced with cream lips and green eye shadow with her usual black eyeliner, which she never went without. Her cheeks were still red. I wondered who gave her makeup tips, but I didn’t ask. There was no way I was going to ruin her holiday cheery disposition.
“Tell me about it,” Madame Torres begged when I put her down on the counter. Mr. Prince Charming jumped up on the counter next to her, curling his tail around her.
“Look at you two getting along.” I smiled seeing my familiars happy for once. “Anyway, Darla,” I referred to my mother (who liked me to call her by her name), “loved Christmas. We weren’t able to afford much, but she still made it special.” I continued to tell them about how Darla made Christmas special.
Darla was the sole proprietor of A Dose of Darla, a booth in the flea market. She was good at homeopathic cures that were made up of herbs. Only she didn’t have the gift of intuition—knowing and making extra special potions to go in the cure like my father and me. This was where some would call us witches, while we called ourselves spiritualists. Regardless, Darla would barter with other flea market booth owners, trading cures for items I might want. Most of the time I wanted what the typical girls in my grade wanted. Things like makeup, the latest doll, or even a purse. Darla would get me a doll, only it wouldn’t be the American Girl doll—it was the international (made in China) doll made up of hard plastic and clothes painted on the body. It was okay though. We still had fun with our homemade decorations.
The knock on the shop door stopped me. The willowy woman from the tea shop frantically waved in the window. The clock on the wall told me she was five minutes early.
“It was more about the spirit of the season than the presents,” I said to Madame Torres and Mr. Prince Charming and walked over to the door, unlocking it.
“There was no need to wait any longer out in that cold weather.” The woman pushed her way into the shop. I flipped the sign on the door to open. I might as well. “I figured I’d come see what you have to offer.” She picked up a bottle from the stress table, plucked the cork top and took a long sniff.
“I’m so glad you are here.” I clasped my hands together. “My understanding is that you are somewhat stressed about the holidays?”
“Yes.” A long sigh left her body. She stuck the cork back in the bottle. “I’ll take this one.”
“This one is perfect.” I took the red glass bottle with the small chain around the neck. There was a gold heart attached to the chain. “I need to mix it really good, so help yourself to some of the apple cider, unless you had enough tea at The Gathering Grove.”
The woman casually waltzed over to the bubbling cider, eyeing the content while I walked behind the partition, dumping the contents of the bottle into the cauldron.
The red bottle glowed, letting me know it was the right pick for her. That was how the potions or homeopathic cures, whatever you wanted to call them, worked. The bottles were as magical as the special ingredients inside. They picked their owners as much as my crystal ball and Mr. Prince Charming picked me.
The cauldron rolled into a full bubble, moving quickly in a circle. The glowing mixture turned orange in color and smelled like deviled eggs.
“What are you making for Christmas dinner?” My intuition told me she was having issues with the family and dinner. Especially the dinner because of the deviled eggs smell.
When I create a special potion for someone, their potion takes on a smell of their favorite things. In her case, deviled eggs.
“Don’t get me started,” she quipped from behind the counter. Easily she moved around the shop picking up bottles, smelling them and putting them back.
The bell over the door dinged a few times, letting me know there were more customers.
Mr. Prince Charming had made himself a spot in the front of the shop next to the apple cider waving his tail in the air, creating Christmas songs and entertaining the customers.
“Try me,” I encouraged the woman, sticking my head out from behind the partition.
“My mother-in-law insists I make the deviled eggs. I love deviled eggs. I hate making them. The hard boiled white always gets holes and damaged on the outside every time I try to peel off the shell.” She huffed and puffed.
The shelf behind the counter was lined with my special ingredients to help calm what really bothered her. The stress of making deviled eggs was causing her problems. I knew it. It was the magical way of me knowing what was bothering her.
My finger slid down the shelf, stopping at the Bushmaster Snake bottle that lit up to my touch.
I grabbed the black bottle. I should’ve known this was the right homeopathic herb to use to help the woman cope with making the eggs. It would not only calm her, but give her the confidence she needed to make the eggs perfectly.
With a dash of the Bushmaster Snake, the cauldron transitioned to a blue substance, filling the swirl and twirl of the smoke above the pot with deviled egg smell. I pinched my nose, trying not to smell it.
“I swear, if you make me something that will ease this stress, I will pay you ten-fold.” She tapped her long red fingernail on the counter. There was a painted Christmas tree on the nail.
“Where did you get your nails done?” I asked making idle chit-chat while holding her bottle down into the cauldron as the liquid seeped into it.
“The woman next door.”
I should’ve know Chandra Shango was over at A Cleansing Spirit Spa decorating nails with holiday art, while reading the clients’ palms in the process. She had the gift of Onychomacy by using oiled fingernails, palm reading, and different symbols she finds in t
he nail bed.
Hear ye, hear ye. Faith Mortimer’s voice rang out into the air. She was the voice of the Whispering Falls Gazette, the spiritualist paper. It was only heard by spiritualists who subscribed, meaning mortal ears couldn’t hear the daily paper or news. Since she had the gift of Clairaudience, ability to hear things that are inaudible, she was perfect for the job. The Christmas Bazaar is underway. The village looks wonderful with the decorated wreaths on the light posts and all the shops have gone the extra mile to decorate for our first bazaar. The Village Council would like to announce a contest being held for the shop with the best decorations, so be sure to ramp up your shop to win the trophy along with doughnuts for a month from Wicked Good Bakery, compliments of me and my sister, Raven. The winner will be announced at the village meeting at The Gathering Rock, so be sure to attend. This announcement was brought to you by Ever After Books. Be sure to tell Ophelia Biblio you heard the announcement and stop in today to get your picture taken with Santa.
A trophy and doughnuts? That was definitely a wonderful prize. I could handle a sweet treat every morning, especially from Wicked Good. Obviously, everyone whose shop was decorated had gone to the council meeting because they knew to decorate. I was a little late to the game, but not out.
“Here you go.” I put the bottle with the extra oomph on the counter next to Madame Torres.
“Oh!” The woman grabbed Madame Torres and gave her a good shake. “I love snow globes. How much?”
“She’s,” ahem. I cleared my throat, “It’s not for sale.” I took the crystal ball from her and held Madame Torres close to my chest, knowing I was going to get an earful from my familiar once the woman left.
“Honey,” the woman grabbed Madame Torres by the bottom, “everything is for sale for the right price.” Her lips curled into a grin, her eyes narrowed.
“Not this one.” I jerked away and put Madame Torres under the counter. I pushed the bottle toward the woman. For a minute I thought about making a new potion for her, one that would cause her great stress, but didn’t. “It will be twenty dollars. You need to rub this on your hands and feet in the morning and at night.”
magical cures 06.5 - a charming christmas Page 2