Serious Leigh (Literal Leigh Romance Diaries Book 2)

by Melanie James

  Esmeralda led me back through the doors into the reception area. A woman about my age stood at the desk. She was very thin and had reddish blonde hair that curled down onto the shoulders of a cute flowered summer dress. When she gave me a genuine bright smile, I thought she looked so perfectly little, cute, and most importantly, completely harmless. She looked nothing like a stereo typical witch. She didn’t even look like the little black dress club that I had just met. “Hi, Leigh! I am so excited to meet you! I’m Gertie. Gertie O’Leary.”

  Now, I have to say this. We all know one or two bubbly people. You know, those friends that are always so cheerful you swear they consumed enough Prozac and fairy dust to make even the most terrible situation seem delightful. Those are the Bubblers. They just smile and giggle as they say things like, “Oh look, another speeding ticket! That’s what I get for not being a more considerate driver,” or “I just got fired from my job! Giggle—giggle. I’ll finally have time to make cupcakes for everyone and bring them in to the lunchroom!” Or even, “Oh darn, they stopped making Twinkies, like forever! Giggle—giggle—I’m pretty sure I can come up with a super healthy alternative!”

  No. No news was too devastating for the Bubblers. Sure sometimes they can be a little annoying, but I just love them. They balance out the world from all of the chronic whiners, drama queens, and bitches on the other side of the emotional personality pendulum. I consider myself one of those people right in the middle by the way, but we all have our days.

  I reached out to shake her hand, and as I should have expected, she launched herself at me with outstretched arms. She was a hugger as well. Hugger Bubblers are a common combination, if you’ve noticed. “Hi, Gertie, I’m happy to meet you, too.” I genuinely meant it. If I have to be a witch’s understudy, Gertie would at least keep things fun. I wouldn’t want any of those other snooty witches I had met. I knew right away that Gertie and I would get along just fine.

  She took Luna from my arms and nuzzled her face into Luna’s long black fur. “Meow, Meow.” I cringed as I anticipated Luna’s reaction, and then there was nothing but loud purring. The last person that had tried to stick their face into Luna’s fur like that was Kelly. She ended up running through my house shrieking a blood curdling scream while Luna dug all four claw studded paws worth of pain into either side of her scalp. Luna looked like she was trying to wrestle a soccer ball. Luna had completely covered Kelly’s face so that she couldn’t see the chair that she tripped over as she darted around the room in terror. The real screaming, the screaming that got my neighbor to call the police, was when Luna broke free and ran off, two long locks of Kelly’s hair streaming from her paws. Apparently, Luna loved something about Gertie. In general, the old grouch was really enjoying this witchcraft business. She really was like a new cat.

  Gertie handed Luna back to me, and then looked at me with her hands on her hips and a smile on her face. “Now, I can’t read minds like they do around this place. I suppose you’re wondering why I’m not like the other witches here at the union. That’s because they are all very old. Centuries old. I think it makes them a bit cranky. Me, I’m twenty-four years old and I age normally, just like you. Here’s the thing, though, I was born in 1850, but then I was frozen in time in 1871. I was frozen for forty years! And then in 1911 I was freed, but it only lasted for another year until I was frozen in time again. That lasted one hundred years. So I’ve only been back for a couple of years now. I just don’t count all of those frozen years towards my age. Can you blame me?”

  “Hell no, Gertie. I’m in no hurry to hit one hundred.” I was figuring out the math in my head when I began to worry about this whole frozen in time issue. “And you were frozen in time? Oh my God! Seriously? Who did that to you? Is that a normal thing?”

  “Well, it seems that I had a little mishap—so, yeah, you could call it that, a mishap. The first time I was frozen it was because a certain witch became very upset with me—” Gertie paused and looked down at her feet before she finished speaking in a sad tone, “and she froze me in the arctic for forty years. I just skipped an entire forty years and didn’t even know it. She wasn’t a very nice person, not at all.” Gertie instantly shrugged off her sad look and then smiled at me in true Hugger Bubbler fashion. “But that’s all water under the bridge now! Here I am and none worse for the wear!”

  Esmeralda wriggled her way into the conversation. “Mishap? Hah! Leigh, I’m certain you’ve heard of the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. Supposedly, it was started when Ms. O’Leary’s cow kicked a lantern over.” She bowed and waved her arm towards Gertie. “I now present to you, the one, the only, Ms. Gertrude O’Leary. The witch who singlehandedly burnt down the whole damn city of Chicago. Unfortunately, her cow was not able to be present today.”

  “Oh my God! Seriously? You? You’re the infamous Ms. O’Leary?” I was really surprised. Gertie looked nervous and shaken. I knew this was a pretty painful memory for even a Hugger Bubbler to handle so I smiled at her and said, “Ah, well, that’s ancient history. Isn’t it? History has proven that if Chicago didn’t burn down, it never would have been rebuilt into the modern metropolis it is today. So consider yourself a hero of sorts.”

  “Oh, Leigh, thanks for saying that. Really it was a mishap. I had just found a book on magic spells and I was trying them out. Who knew Latin could be such a tongue twister?” Gertie shrugged her shoulders and smiled nervously. “Well, I was trying to transform a little mouse into a cat. I just love cats, you know. Anyway, when I finished the spell, instead of a black and white cat that I hoped for, I had a large black and white cow bolting through the house. It knocked over the candles and started the curtains on fire.”

  “Wow! Well at least the old story rings true. The fire was caused by a cow.”

  “Not exactly. The cow ran out the back door. I immediately pulled down the flaming curtains and threw them out of the window. I didn’t even think about where they would land. Who knew that the building next door was packed to the rafters with dry goods? Not me, obviously. Well, those curtains went out my window and right into an open window of that old building. The next thing I see is a giant bonfire blazing away outside. So, it wasn’t exactly the poor cow’s fault. That place was a firetrap really.”

  ‘Oh, of course, that was a complete accident, Gertie. I can totally relate.” I looked over at Esmeralda who had her arms folded across her chest and her head tilted to the side. She looked at me in complete disbelief. It was true, I could relate, considering how my summer break had gone so far.

  “Leigh, why don’t you ask Gertie what happened after she thawed out? I’m pretty sure she remembers what happened. After all, another pissed off witch froze her for one hundred years.”

  Gertie’s eyes bugged out as she mouthed the words. “No, please!”

  “No, Esmeralda. I really don’t care.” Of course, I was dying to know, but I didn’t want to give Esmeralda the satisfaction of listening to a confession from Gertie. That was pretty cruel of Esmeralda. “I’m sure if Gertie ever feels like telling me about it, she will.” Once I said that, Esmeralda huffed and went back behind her reception desk. She turned on a radio to some obscure 1970’s music program.

  Gertie let out the breath she must have been holding. “Oh thank you, Leigh! That was so nice of you to get her off that topic. I promise I’ll tell you all about those unfortunate things later. I’ll be visiting you soon, I hope you don’t mind. I have to finish a few things here and then I should stop by for a visit next week. I’m especially excited to read some of your books. I’ve never met a writer before!”

  “Well, don’t get too excited Gertie, you haven’t met one yet. I’m really an elementary teacher. The writing is more like a hobby. And as it turns out, my hobby has me heading to the twilight zone with stops at the looney bin along the way. It will be nice to spend some time together, though. I’m glad I’m not in this alone, and I just know I can learn a lot from you. Oh, and feel free to stop by whenever you like! Just one question. Were the wi
tches in the boardroom the ones that froze you?”

  “Oh no! Not them, although those old witches all know each other. They kind of run the witches union like it’s their club, or something like that. They want to stick their noses into everything. They can be pretty forceful in getting their way. I find it is best to just avoid them. Now—”

  “Wait. Like a club? Or more like the mob?”

  “Mob? You mean like a big angry mob?”

  “No. No, Gertie, I mean like a group of criminals.”

  “Shh, don’t say those things, Leigh! Not here. We can talk about it next week. Don’t worry about them right now. So—let’s get you and Luna home! First, you are missing the one item that every witch needs, a broom.” Gertie dug around in a large tote that hung over her shoulder. When I say large, I mean beach bag size. By the looks of the huge silk blossoms sewn on to it, the girl sure loved flowers.

  Gertie squealed in a pitch above her normally high voice. “Here! I found it! I feel so honored to be the one to present you with your first official witches broom!” She retrieved a tiny little broom that actually looked like a paintbrush.

  “Um, really? I’m almost afraid to ask how I’m going to fly on that thing.”

  “It’s more of a symbol I guess you could say. But it is really magic and very important for a witch to have. I feel like we should perhaps be doing some sort of solemn ceremony. It just seems like such an important thing. What do you say, Leigh?”

  Esmeralda groaned in response to Gertie’s suggestion. I really wanted to be on my way so I countered with an alternate plan. One that wouldn’t include Esmeralda’s snickering observations. “How about we do that when you come visit? That way it will be just you, Luna, and me.”

  “Oh! That would be great! We’ll have fun. We can even dress up! But you will have to take your broom with you for now so you can get home.” Gertie stood back a little to teach me the spell. In the background Esmeralda’s radio was droning with the Soothing Sounds of the Seventies radio show. An acoustic guitar ballad caught Gertie’s perky little ears for a minute. “Oh, what a beautiful song about the Rocky Mountains! I have so much music to catch up on. Oh well. Now, let’s get you guys back home. To be instantly transported to anywhere you want to go, you just do this. First, you have to stand perfectly still and hold the broom in one hand. Then, you just say the magic words.

  Witch’s flight, day or night

  To and fro, take me now to where I must go.”

  Gertie stopped short of finishing the spell to comment on the song that was still playing. “Oh, this is the best part of the song.” Gertie sang out part of the chorus. “Rocky Mountain High, Colorado.” She smiled at me, and then continued on with her lesson. “Anyway, then you just say the place you need to go to. Easy!”

  I stood nice and straight. With Luna in one hand and the little broom in the other, I repeated the phrase.

  “Witch’s flight, day or night

  To and Fro, take me now where I must go.”

  I can never miss an opportunity to have a little fun, so I mimicked Gertie’s impromptu karaoke performance. I sang out, “Rocky Mountain High, Colorado.” I chuckled and looked at Gertie. “Sorry, I just couldn’t resist!”

  “Oh, that was pretty funny and pretty good, too!” She paused and then a startled look appeared on her face. “Wait! You were supposed to say where you have to go!”

  “Oh, I was getting to that. Now, take me to—” Then I was suddenly lost in a puff of colored smoke.

  Chapter Three

  Rocky Mountain High

  “Denver? Fucking Denver? As in Denver fucking Colorado?” My eyes anxiously darted around the city street before me. A police car was parked across the street and I saw the logo on the door. It clearly read: City of Denver Police Department. I saw a business address stenciled on the glass door of an office building near me. The address read: Denver, Colorado. “What the hell is going on? How did I know I was actually casting the spell!” I shouted. Only a couple of people on the busy sidewalk even gave me so much as a glance.

  In a city you can get away with acting like a raving fool and nobody will bat an eyelash. There is always someone on the street howling out obscenities, paranoid statements, or predictions about the coming apocalypse. There I stood, holding up my little Barbie sized broom, yelling the F word and shouting nonsense about casting spells. To the pedestrian traffic I was just another bat-shit-crazy woman with a cat. Better not get involved. Just keep walking and pretend not to notice her and maybe she’ll leave you alone.

  “Damn! Seriously?” I stood on a street I didn’t even know the name of, in a city I had never been to. With a cat. I guess this was exactly what the old voodoo witch meant about Karma biting me in the ass. I was confronted with a decision. I wondered if I should repeat the magic spell that Gertie taught me. At that point I was so stressed out, I wasn’t certain if I would remember a word of it. I was more than a little frightened of where I could end up if something went wrong for a second time. The first thing was to just make a phone call. Take that, Karma! Those bitches hadn’t been thinking 21st century. I’m a girl with a smartphone, I’m damn near invincible to Karma. With the touch of my fingers, I could book a flight faster than a jackrabbit on a hot date.

  Then rotten news brought my hopes down. Due to dense fog in Chicago, all flights to my hometown were held in limbo. The schedule had gotten so bad that they simply cancelled any later fights. I was hopelessly stranded until my new flight late the next morning. Time for smartphone app number two. I would just get a hotel room. In less than ten minutes I had booked a room at a decent hotel near the airport, and best of all, they accepted one small pet.

  I saw a line of taxis conveniently waiting on the corner at the end of the block. I placed Luna in my tote and I walked in their direction. Just as I passed by a small bakery along the way, I realized I hadn’t eaten a thing all day. I turned around and dodged into the open door, or rather, I was pulled in by the aroma of fresh baked pastries. What I really craved was fresh baked brownies. I frantically scanned the display cases and saw a selection of baked goods that made my mouth water, but no brownies. I turned around to ask someone if, by chance, they had any in the back. What I saw made me freeze. There on the counter by the register was a clear, cling-wrapped paper plate with four of the biggest, most delicious looking brownies I had ever seen. I had to make them mine. I walked up to a young red haired guy at the register. From the looks of his t-shirt, long matted dread locks, which I think he should just call red locks, scruffy whiskers, and a brightly colored knit cap, he had to be Bob Marley’s biggest fan in Denver. To top it off, he was wearing what appeared to be a kilt. A frayed and dingy looking gray flannel kilt. The huge, scrumptious brownies were on the counter close to him. I thought perhaps he must have wrapped up the last of them to keep for himself. I figured that if I would joke around a little with him, maybe he would sell at least one brownie to me. “Hi! Those are my brownies right there. I’m here for them. Come to mama!”

  “Yeah? Well, now to whom may I ask placed this special order?” The scruffy hippie looked at me with red, watery eyes.

  “Um, Leigh?” I was surprised that he wanted to know my name. We don’t do that in Chicago.

  “Right on, Lee.” He pushed the pack of brownies across the counter to me. Luna poked her head out of my tote and called out a hungry “Meow”.

  I nudged and dug around Luna for some cash and asked, “How much do I owe you?”

  “Naw, it’s all good. It’s all paid up. Lee is cool.” He said and went back to reading his book.

  “Huh? I’m not sure I understand.” I couldn’t believe he would just give them to me because he liked my name. Clearly one of us was confused and from the looks of him, it certainly wasn’t me.

  “Yeah, I already got the cash. Lee is good. It’s cool.” He began to look a little puzzled and then shook his head before turning back to his book.

  What the fuck is up with this guy? I thought to myself. I cu
rbed my Chicago tongue and decided I had best use my manners. “Well, thank you. It just seemed a little odd.” I wasn’t about to argue with the guy. These were the last brownies in the bakery and since they were free, it made them that much better.

  The Celtic Bob Marley looked up from his book. “Hey, what’s wrong with you? Are you a cop or something?”

  “Huh? What’s wrong with me? You’ve got some chutzpah asking me that! Looking like you do. Maybe I should be asking what’s wrong with you, MacMarley! Besides, why would a cop be carrying a cat in her purse and looking for brownies?” I shook my head in disbelief, picked up the large package of brownies, and started to walk out. I turned around and threw a five dollar bill on the counter because I didn’t want him to run out and accuse me of shoplifting the baked goods. With that, I spun around and headed back onto the busy sidewalk. “Damn pothead or something.” I mumbled.

  I was pretty sure I heard him mumble something as well. “Damn stoners.”

  What a weirdo! What’s wrong with me? That’s a laugh coming from him. I suppose I am not really as offended as I am just plain disappointed. I finally get to see a real live guy in a kilt and instead of him being a hot hunk of Scottish manhood, he is a scrawny rat-boy that lives in a dumpster. Not that I want to meet another guy. I’m just curious about this whole kilt thing. Kelly had been drooling over hot Scots in kilts ever since she started reading that romance series. She makes them out to be so hot. And why is he asking if I was a cop? Weird guy, I suppose weird questions should be expected.

  There was one thing that had been nagging me ever since I tried to book a room. What the hell was I going to do without a litter box for Luna? Eventually this was going to become an issue, and I had to figure out a solution before my purse became a kitty port-a-potty. My next stop was a convenience store that was quite—convenient as well. With the purchase of a small bag of cat litter, an aluminum foil roasting pan, some cans of cat food, and some snacks for me, I had solved that little problem.