A Taste of Magic

by Tracy Madison

  “Do you know how to play Monopoly? Or Sorry!? I know I have those.” My heart zinged, and little flutters of excitement bounced around inside of me. I’d hoped to see Nate that evening, and here he was. Sure, not how I’d imagined it, but I’d take what I could get.

  “Anything will be fine, Liz,” Nate said, squeezing my hand. Such a simple touch, but it sent electrifying tingles over my skin. “Thanks for saving me,” he whispered. “I didn’t know how else to entertain him.”

  I wanted to tell him he and Sam were saving me as much as I was saving them. For some reason, though, I didn’t. “I’ll go grab a few games, and we’ll see how it goes. Help yourself to some cookies, if you want. They’re in the cupboard next to the refrigerator.”

  “Home-baked?” Nate asked with a grin.

  Ha. If he only knew how dangerous it was asking me for anything home-baked. “Just Oreos, but I plan on baking tomorrow. I’ll save you something.”

  After I returned with the games, we set up at the kitchen table. Over hot cocoa and Oreos, we battled out a game of Monopoly and then moved on to Sorry!, and all the while, I tried to think of something witty to say to Nate. Something flirtatious. Seeing as my last attempt (at the restaurant with Kevin) hadn’t gone that well, I was more than a little gun-shy.

  And I wanted to talk about that night. You know, that amazing moment on my couch? Yep, that one. But not only couldn’t I bring it up around Sam, I wasn’t sure how I would, even if I could. It bothered me, just a little, that we hadn’t discussed what had happened between us. Did it mean something bad because we hadn’t? Or was I just worrying too much? I didn’t know.

  Settling on a safe subject, I asked, “Why is your sister in Ohio?”

  “Business. She was supposed to come home today, but her flight was canceled.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “She’s an attorney. Her firm has a branch in Columbus, so she’s out there once a month or so.”

  We continued to chat while we played. I learned about Sam’s school and that he was a sports buff, just like his uncle. The hours passed pleasantly, and before I knew it, Sam was yawning.

  “I’m tired of this. Can I go watch TV?” he asked.

  Stretching my back, I glanced at Nate. I hoped he wouldn’t suggest they leave. I wasn’t ready to say good night. Besides, I really wanted a kiss. I didn’t know if that would happen with Sam in the room, but that didn’t stop me from hoping.

  Nate stood and then stretched his arms over his head. “Actually, it’s past your bedtime.” Turning to me, he said, “We should probably leave. But we’ll help you pick up first.”

  I tried not to be disappointed. After all, it was late. But, dang it, I really wanted to spend more time with Nate.

  After the game was put back together, I said, “Let me put these away and then I’ll walk you to the door.” Maybe, if I was really lucky, I’d get a good night kiss.

  In my bedroom, I had just slid the games back on the shelf, when a pair of warm hands encircled my waist. “I wanted a moment alone with you,” Nate whispered into my ear.

  A shot of longing licked its way through me. Pivoting, I reached my arms around Nate’s neck. “I’m glad. I wanted to be alone with you, too.” And then, his lips met mine, and everything else melted away. Everything I felt the first time we kissed came back in a rush. My body responded instantly, and again, all I wanted was Nate. “Where’s Sam?” I mumbled.

  “Watching television. He’ll be fine for a few minutes.” Nate stepped backward, pulling me with him. We landed on the bed, and his arms tightened around me. “I’ve really missed you. Did you get my card?”

  “I did. Thank you for that. I was beginning to worry.”

  “About what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Suddenly, I felt extraordinarily shy. “What happened between us? That’s not normal for me, so I guess I worried that—well—that it was for you.”

  “Normal? Not at all. I’m not sure what came over me that night, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.”

  “It’s okay.” But was it? I should have felt relieved that what we’d experienced wasn’t the norm for him, but I didn’t. I mean, I’d wanted to hear that. But now? My mind centered, once again, on the banana muffins and the brownies. On the magic. How would I ever know what was real and what wasn’t?

  He stroked my back. “I should probably take Sam home. I had fun tonight,” he said, his attention focused completely on me.

  I pushed my misgivings aside. What ever was going on, I was enjoying it, and that’s what mattered, right? Right. Better to just go with it. For now, anyway.

  I stood up and then pulled Nate to his feet. He lowered his head, and I ran my tongue over his lips before we settled into another kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating. Each kiss left me wanting more. More than that, I wanted him to stay. I wanted to see where this could lead, and more than anything else, I wanted him to keep touching me. Unfortunately, the kiss ended too soon.

  “I really should go. Before Sam runs in here to see what’s taking so long.” Nate ran his finger along my cheek, the touch soft and gentle. Reluctance shimmered over his face, and the fact it did made me smile. “I’d love to stay.”

  “Maybe another time,” I said.

  We left the bedroom together, and Nate roused Sam from the couch. After they left, I locked up and leaned against the wall, waiting for the buzz in my body to recede. I brushed my fingers along my cheek, thinking of Nate’s touch. My skin felt hot, flushed. Everything with Nate was a new experience for me, and I was enjoying every minute of it.

  But, even so, I was sort of let down. Maybe it was my worries about the magic, or maybe it was the way the evening ended, because I certainly hadn’t wanted it to end. As I thought about it more, I realized it probably had little to do with Nate and far more to do with Marc. Bumping into him at the store still sat inside me, swirling around like nervous energy I couldn’t dispose of.

  Meandering back into the kitchen for something cool to drink, I opened the freezer to get some ice. There I saw it, huddled innocently between a frozen pizza and a half-gallon of ice cream. I thought I’d buried it farther back than that, but there it was, front and center. Taunting me. Daring me to pick it up.

  My chest tightened as I grabbed the Ziploc bag. Ripping the top open, I took out the foil-covered, decade-old, hard-as-a-rock slice of wedding cake. I held it for a few minutes. How could something so innocuous create such ridiculous emotions?

  Without thinking, I put it to my cheek and closed my eyes. My arm became as frozen as the cake I held. Unable to do anything, I sank deeper and deeper, my mind numbing, almost as if the frozen cake had touched it. I tried to let go, but my hand remained clenched tight.

  And then, my world flashed, turned upside down, and changed. Magic, I guess. My mind went blank, and everything became fuzzy and hazy. When it sharpened again, I was standing next to Marc at our reception, slicing into our wedding cake, smearing it on each other’s faces. Remembered joy of the day flew back at me as if it were yesterday. Every emotion, every hope, every dream cascaded through me like a waterfall. I wasn’t particularly afraid, just a little disoriented, a little out of whack. Dizzy, I stepped backward blindly.

  Jazzy music played in the background. Tight, two-inch heels pinched my feet, and my dress swished around my legs. The imagined taste of the buttercream icing filled my mouth, the sweetness of it almost making me gag.

  Joy at being Mrs. Marcus Stevens whooshed over me, just as it had on that long ago day. My future loomed bright and sure ahead of me. I felt it. I saw it. Right there. My heart overflowing with love, I reached out to touch Marc, only to find myself separated from my ghost self. I couldn’t touch him, couldn’t do anything but watch. It seemed I was nothing but a spectator.

  My head pounded. My legs started to shake. I sank to the floor. Gripping the cake tighter, I tried to make sense of it all, tried to breathe normally. In. Out. In
. Out. It didn’t work. What ever this was, it kept on, and finally, I just gave in.

  The pressure of Marc’s phantom arms tightened around my waist as we danced. The touch of his lips floated over mine, so close I’d have sworn he was standing in the kitchen kissing me. The sound of applause from our guests filled my ears. Everything just as it once was came alive inside of me, in front of me, all around me.

  Frankly, it pissed me off.

  No longer feeling the love, I wanted to walk up to this prior me and shake her. I wanted to tell her to get out and run away fast. I wanted to warn her that this man, her husband, was going to deceive her, lie to her, and hurt her beyond comprehension. I wanted to take the fairy-tale glaze out of her eyes and shove reality in its place. I wanted her to know. God help me, I just wanted her—me—to know.

  My chest grew heavier, and I fought to end this. To stop it before I lost my mind. Again, the urge to yell and scream at the long ago bride overcame me.

  The thing is—I knew better. My prior self would have laughed at such comments. That other Elizabeth loved Marc so fully, so completely, that even if she’d been warned, she wouldn’t, couldn’t, have believed it.

  “Help me,” I sobbed. “Make this stop.”

  I needed to turn away. I knew this, but there was this gaping hole in me I can’t explain. It grew and grew and, as it did, all the pain from the last year overwhelmed me, almost crushing me with its power.

  Then, as clear as a bell, a voice spoke inside my mind, cutting through the images like a razor sharp knife. Female, soft, but with an edge, this voice said, “Elizabeth, let go. Just let go.”

  Tears trailing down my face, I stood, replaced the cake in the freezer, and stumbled to my bedroom in a haze.

  I curled up on my bed and cried. When I finally stopped, I held my pillow tight to my chest. Staring at the wall, I forced my mind to remain empty. Not only didn’t I comprehend what had just happened, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know.

  The snow still billowed, fell, and blew outside. It was early, as sleep had continually evaded me throughout the night. I sipped my coffee, enjoying the punch of caffeine and heat. Last night had weirded me out. Actually, pretty much the entire whole of the previous day was a freaking mess better off forgotten. Well, except for my time with Nate.

  I washed my hands and then reread the new magic list I’d written. This time, I tried to be even more exact in what I wanted to accomplish; I didn’t want to make any more mistakes. Also, the fact that Grandma Verda had never been able to reverse the spell she’d cast on my grandfather scared me. What if I couldn’t fix my mistakes? What if what ever I did lasted forever and that was that?Because of this worry, I’d been trying to figure out the gypsy magic thing, what made it work and what didn’t. I guessed I needed a lot of emotion and energy to get the desired results. I already knew the specific words and phrasing I used were also important. But, really, the only spell I’d cast that had the exact effect I’d wanted was Marc’s limp dick, which was a complete accident. A fun one, but an accident nonetheless.

  My mixer was plugged in, ready to rumble, with plenty of Post-it notes stuck to the mixing bowls stacked to the side. Six mini cake pans were greased and floured and resting on the surface of my kitchen table.

  Into each of the six bowls, I dumped all the dry ingredients for each individual cake and then followed up with the wet ingredients. Not the best way, but for my purposes it would work just fine.

  Time to play.

  I set the first bowl on the mixer and then slowly beat the ingredients together. With a heavy swallow, I focused on my list, closed my eyes, and said, “Marc, you continually choose to hurt me, first in the way you ended our marriage, and now in trying to interfere with my business.” My voice broke as the words left my mouth. Everything from the day before kicked in heavy and hard.

  “My wish for you, Marc, is to experience deep and intense regret over your actions toward me, to stop interfering in A Taste of Magic, and for you to realize that the way you ended our marriage was wrong. Until you come to me and apologize for the miserable way you’ve treated me, you will find no relief from this turmoil.”

  The magic wrapped itself around me like a tight-fitting glove, comforting me in its weave. Just as before, lights danced and electricity zinged. All my thoughts centered on Marc until the dance of magic faded. I tipped the beaters back and moved the bowl to the side.

  When bowl number two was in place, I said, “Troy, you’ve stolen money from my sister. My wish for you is to pay her back every cent you sweet-talked out of her. It will be a compulsion you can’t ignore, and it will twist and turn in your belly like acid until you return the money to Alice.” As soon as I said the words, the magic was back, stronger than before.

  I let the tide of power ride over me until the light hit the batter. With the third bowl, I steadied myself before speaking. When ready, I said, “Maddie, you’re a beautiful woman, inside and out. My wish for you is to find true happiness in yourself, however you want that to be, in the ways that truly sing to your heart and make you shine.”

  My kitchen became a kaleidoscope of colors swirling around me as if I were lost in a rainbow. Tingles sped up my arms, through my hands, and then to the bowl. This time, I didn’t wait for the light show to end. I grabbed the fourth bowl, and put it in place.

  “Alice, you will find peace in your heart and the greatest love of your life. This is my wish for you.”

  I took a deep breath. Tried to refocus. My apartment looked like a disco room; colors zapped everywhere, bouncing off the fixtures, the ceiling, and the walls. So much so, my eyes hurt from the vividness, the brightness of it. Switching bowls, I noticed my arms trembling from the power, from the energy.

  “Jon, I can tell you’re confused by something going on in your life. My wish for you is to discover what it is you are unsure of and to take the steps you need to fix it without being afraid but still remaining true to yourself and who you really are.”

  I grabbed the last bowl and tried to see past the dizziness enveloping me. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea, doing them all at once. My body was overflowing with energy, and I sort of worried I might have a heart attack or something. But I wasn’t able to stop. The magic pulled at me, beckoned me to continue. I breathed in a mouthful of air and allowed my wish to flow through me. I wanted to feel it before I spoke.

  Tipping my head back, I watched the colors bop around on the ceiling. “This wish is for me. My wish is to find the path that will lead me to forgiveness, to being able to truly let go of the past, and to find what ever I need to really move on with my life.”

  Instantly, the intensity of the swirling colors magnified. A surge of energy ripped through my body with such strength, such power, that I let go of the mixer and stumbled backward.

  I closed my eyes and raised my arms as the magic thrashed through me. “I will be happy!” I yelled, lost in the strength of the moment. Wind swept through my hair, making it whip around my face, slashing at my skin. Yep—wind, in my freaking apartment. I kept my eyes closed as the power slowly bled out of my body.

  “Excellent, Elizabeth. I’m impressed,” a woman’s voice, the same voice from the previous night, whispered in my ear. Yeah. In my ear. Her breath blew warm on my cheek, I swear. And then, I smelled flowers—everywhere. Opening my eyes, I fully expected to see the owner of this voice (Miranda, possibly?) standing in my kitchen. Only, no one was there. “Hello?”

  No response.

  Maybe if I closed my eyes again? What the hell, may as well try. “Hello?” I repeated.

  No answer, but the scent of roses remained.

  Shivers of apprehension tickled my skin. The Twilight Zone was back, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it. I grabbed the phone. I needed to talk to Grandma Verda. Like, right this instant. Or, really, like yesterday. She didn’t tell me Miranda paid personal visits to her granddaughters, something I kind of thought I should have known. I didn’t know for sure if it was my great-great-great
grandmother, but that made the most sense.

  When I tried calling, Grandma Verda’s machine picked up. With the snowstorm, she was probably at my parents’, but I didn’t want to have this conversation with eavesdroppers in the background. I’d try her again later.

  Paying close attention to the labels on the bowls, I poured the batter into the individual mini-cake pans. I sprinkled different toppings on each so I’d be able to tell them apart. This was the simplest way I’d thought of to not mix them up.

  I set the timer on the oven and began cleaning the mess up, but all I could think about was Miranda, and if it had truly been her voice I’d heard. I didn’t know what scared me more.

  Hmm. A visitor from beyond, or insanity?

  Chapter Ten

  I handed the box with the cake over to the receptionist at the Brookhaven Sports Club and steadfastly ignored my trembling hands. “He does work today, right?”

  The blonde and way-too-perky girl behind the counter said, “Yep, Troy comes in at seven every night for his class. I’ll leave this for him.”“Great, I appreciate it.” Swiveling on my heel to leave, she halted me.

  “Is there a note? You know, so Troy knows who brought it?”

  “Oh, um, sure. Could you put, ‘From a secret admirer?’ ” I really hadn’t thought this through.

  Her face blanched, and she gestured me forward. When I stood directly in front of her, she leaned over the counter. “Listen, he’s not a great guy. There’s been a lot of complaints against him.” She whisked her gaze to the left and then to the right. “Are you sure you want me to give this to him?”

  “What kind of complaints?” I asked without hesitation. Maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to learn something new about Troy the Creep.

  “He’s a womanizer. And there’s even been a few rumors that he’s stolen money from some of his conquests. He’s really not a nice man.”

  “Why is he still employed here then?”

  “Nothing’s been proven. Besides, he’s friends with the manager.” She picked up the box. “You want this back?”