A Slice of Christmas Magic

by A. G. Mayes

  “I didn’t know you were such a wild child.” I laughed.

  Henry called, and I stepped into the dark front of the pie shop to answer it.

  We talked about our days and made plans for the following day. I paced around, running my hand over the edges of tables and chairs.

  “I’m helping my friend Josh at his job site,” I said. There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “You still there?”

  “Yeah, that’s great,” he said evenly.

  “It’s the light fixtures. Light’s important, you know,” I babbled. “The day doesn’t end when the sun goes down.”

  I bit my tongue as I stubbed my toe on the bookshelf by the window.

  “Have fun. I have to go walk Willy now,” Henry said. I heard Willy gently woofing in the background.

  “Okay, bye.” I tried to shake the weird feeling from the phone call as I headed back to the bright kitchen.

  We didn’t let the pie chill in the fridge for long before we cut large slices for each of us.

  Aunt Erma took the first bite and let out a giggle. “I think you may have put a bit too much of the laughter spice in here,” she said.

  “I think you did a great job,” Holly said after her first bite. “Really top notch. No one can spice a pie like you can. We should crown you pie-spicing queen of the universe.” She yelled the last part and we all collapsed into a pile of giggles.

  “Did I put in too much of the encouragement too?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Aunt Erma snorted. “But we can try again tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be back for that,” Holly said. She put her face really close to mine until her light blue eyes were gazing deep into my own dark blue ones. “You’re an amazing best friend and I know you’ll do even better tomorrow, but you did a pretty spectacular job today.”

  “Thanks, Hol.” I gave her a hug. It didn’t matter that it was the spices talking. I’d really needed to hear that today.

  I wanted to join the fun, so I took a bite of pie. It was quite tasty. We alternated between gushing over each other’s fabulous qualities and laughing hysterically.

  There was still room for improvement in my magical education, but the learning process sure was fun.

  Chapter 6

  Dear Elodie,

  I have a very serious relationship problem. I’ve been with this guy for a few weeks, and it has been wonderful. He really is everything I could have ever wanted. My problem is that this other guy has come out of the woodwork and said he is in love with me too. I’ve been single for a long time. Where was this guy then? He had been around for years just twiddling his thumbs not saying anything, and then now, when I’m happy and with someone new, he steps to center stage with some dramatic proclamation. I don’t know what to do. He’s not that great of a guy, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings. How do I get him out of here and get back to my prince without hurting the other guy’s feelings? I never thought I’d be in a love triangle, and when I did dream about it, I didn’t imagine it would be so hard.

  Sincerely,

  Everyone Loves Me

  Dear Everyone Loves Me,

  Clearly you have to send the other guy packing as soon as possible. It sounds like you’re with the right guy now. Why would the other guy choose this time to reveal his feelings? Some men always want what they can’t have, and this seems like a classic case of that. I think you should tell him to go away and not come back. If he had really loved you, he would not have popped back into your life like this.

  Ask and I’ll Answer,

  Elodie

  I stormed into the nursing home, barely acknowledging Lacy, the woman behind the front counter.

  “Henry’s in the dining room,” she called.

  “Thanks,” I said over my shoulder, not slowing down. He was sitting at a table playing cards with a few of the residents.

  “Can I talk to you?” I asked him through clenched teeth, not even saying hi to the other people. They looked at him with raised eyebrows, and he looked a little sheepish.

  “Sure,” he said, slowly getting up. “I’ll be right back. No peeking at my cards, Mr. Gary,” he said.

  Mr. Gary gave him a wide-eyed innocent look through his thick-rimmed glasses. “I’m no cheater,” he said. “You’re just a terrible player.”

  The table cracked up, and Henry followed me outside.

  “I’m guessing you’ve read today’s paper,” he said, ducking his head.

  “Yes,” I said, crossing my arms. “Care to explain, oh my royal prince.” He grimaced.

  “Yeah, I wrote that when I was upset. I probably should have waited and read it after I had calmed down before sending it to my editor,” he said.

  “Ya think?” I asked.

  “You have to understand this is hard for me too,” he said, rubbing his forehead.

  “And that gives you the right to publish this?” I held up the newspaper. I wasn’t ready to let him off the hook.

  “No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m really sorry. I know you’re actually going through a hard time, and I know Josh is too,” he added reluctantly. “I just really like you.”

  “You think that’s an excuse?” I asked.

  “No, of course not,” he said. “I made a mistake.”

  “Just please don’t use my personal life in your column again,” I said. His apologies and big brown eyes were making my boiling anger cool to a simmer.

  “Deal,” he said, reaching out his hand. I shook it. “Unless it’s something really juicy,” he added with a twinkle in his eye. I gently punched his shoulder.

  “Maybe I’ll start writing a competing advice column.” I tapped my finger on my lip, thoughtfully. “What will the first column be about? Maybe something about a guy who claims to love fruitcake, but actually just stores it in a chest freezer in his basement whenever people give it to him.”

  His eyes widened. “You wouldn’t! There would be a mutiny here.” He carefully took the newspaper out of my hand. “Maybe I can hold onto this,” he said. “So you don’t do anything crazy, like reread this garbage.” I let him have it because he was probably right. If I read it again, I’d get angry again.

  Well, I thought as I walked away and headed back to the pie shop, Henry and I had survived our first fight. And since I was the winner, I thought it went well. I wondered if Henry would be able to keep his anonymity as Elodie with such a blatant letter. It was so obviously about me and Josh and Henry. Wouldn’t everyone be able to see that?

  It turned out it was easy for them to miss the signs. The Morning Pie Crew talked about Ask Elodie, as they usually did, but they didn’t say anything about me and Henry. Were they being polite? I considered the possibility, but then I thought, who am I kidding? The Morning Pie Crew never bothered to be polite or respect my privacy. After my and Henry’s fourth date, Lena wiggled her eyebrows at me and asked if Henry had “frosted my cupcakes”.

  “Remember that time Lionel proclaimed his love for Flora?” Lena asked.

  “Right!” Aunt Erma’s eyes lit up. “He came in here and read a poem to the whole pie shop!”

  I could see Lena was trying not to laugh. Flora just focused on her slice of pecan pie as though she couldn’t even hear them.

  “My favorite line was, ‘Oh, my sweet, beautiful Flora-boo, I really do adore-a you.’” Lena threw her head back and cackled.

  “I thought it was so romantic.” Mr. Barnes sighed.

  “It would have been far more romantic if I was the only person he’d done that to,” Flora said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Unfortunately he also used the same poem to proclaim his love to Nora and Cora.” She gave her patented disapproving Flora look.

  “He was playing the odds,” Lena said, then shrank back when Flora turned her look on her. “Despicable,” she added.

  ***

  I checked all the tools in my bag. I knew they were all there because I kept them in the trunk of my car. I only took them out to use
them and clean them. I remembered as a child my father sitting at the kitchen table cleaning his tools.

  My mother would always scold him. “Can’t you do that in the garage?”

  He would just give her his charming smile and look at her with his big twinkling eyes and her expression would soften and she’d walk away.

  I loved to help him. I was always fascinated by these pieces of metal that were so important to him.

  “Take care of your tools and they’ll take care of you,” he’d tell me.

  He’d hand me a soft worn rag and let me polish them. He’d let me tell him all about my day without interruption. When my mother would say it was almost time for bed, we’d put the tools down and have a snack. Usually pie Aunt Erma had made or sometimes ice cream from a local creamery that my dad would pick up on his way home from work. He would always get the one that had large chunks of peanut butter cup, my favorite. Whenever my dad ate ice cream, some would end up on his mustache and I would laugh hysterically as he twisted his face into silly expressions as he tried to lick it off.

  I looked over the directions Josh had sent me and headed to the job site. I felt a familiar rush of excitement as I pulled up in front of a house surrounded by work trucks and a dumpster out front. I loved these big projects. Watching a building transform from run-down and forgotten to updated and cared for.

  Josh appeared next to my car, bouncing on his toes before I’d even opened the door.

  “Someone’s had his coffee this morning,” I said, smiling.

  He shrugged. “I’m in a good mood. It’s a beautiful day!” I looked up at the gray sky with raised eyebrows.

  “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  It really was an extensive project. He introduced me to a few people as we walked through, who nodded in my direction before getting back to work. Finally he showed me the light fixtures. There were four of them, each one a little different. All of them had pieces of twisted brass tube running from the base and spinning out in different directions with several light bulbs hanging off the edges of the brass.

  Josh grabbed a ladder and set it up where the first light fixture would go.

  “Wow, these are unique,” I said. I circled them, already forming a plan on how to best hang them. I could feel Josh’s eyes on me. “I know you have a lot to do. I got this,” I said.

  “Okay,” he said reluctantly. “Just holler if you need anything.”

  I quickly got lost in my work – it was nice to not think about magic or the IMPs or even Josh and Henry for a while – and it wasn’t until I heard a crash that I was startled out of my wiring reverie.

  “Sorry, so sorry.” I stopped breathing as I heard a faint but familiar voice coming from the front of the house. I slowly climbed down off the ladder, clutching a screwdriver tightly in my hand. I had to see. Maybe it wasn’t him. But what if it was him and he wasn’t alone?

  I peered through the doorway, hoping I wouldn’t see him. I just wanted to get back to light fixtures and wires.

  Well, crap. I saw his nervous figure on his hands and knees scooping up boxes of screws while a frustrated man tried to shoo him away.

  “It’s fine. I got it,” the other man said as Stan continued to apologize.

  I quickly looked around the rest of the room? Was anyone else there? Brenda? I figured I would feel her eyes boring a hole in the wall if she was around. It looked as if Stan had come alone. I needed to find out why. Was he delivering something? He used to be the delivery man in Hocus Hills, maybe he found a new job in this town. Maybe he could tell me what his parents were planning. I knew Violet would be livid if I didn’t call her immediately, but I couldn’t let him leave without talking to him.

  I approached slowly as though afraid I would startle him and he would run. My heart was racing. I hadn’t seen him since I’d found out he was working with Alice. I’d always thought he was just the clumsy delivery guy. His floppy hair was even shaggier than I remembered.

  I was almost on top of him before he noticed me. He froze, his eyes wide. I felt my own muscles tense, ready to tackle him if he tried to run.

  “Stan,” I said. I was relieved my voice came out sounding fairly calm.

  I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He was probably trying to figure out how to play this. Maybe he would pretend he didn’t know me, or pretend he wasn’t Stan. What if he tried to attack me? That didn’t seem like Stan’s style, especially with so many witnesses, but he had been hanging out with his mother lately. That could be enough to turn anyone into a raving lunatic. The silence dragged on so long I finally added, “Can we talk?”

  He slowly stood, and I grabbed his arm. The frustrated man who was still picking up his screws looked at us with raised eyebrows.

  “We’re old friends,” I said with a bright smile. I led Stan out to the yard through the snow until we were alone next to a big pine tree. “What are you doing here?” I snapped.

  “I should be asking you the same thing.” I think he meant to sound tough, but he came across sounding more like a sullen teenager instead.

  “Are your parents here?”

  “They might be nearby.” His gaze shifted from my shoes to over my shoulder and I resisted the urge to follow it. If Dennis and Brenda were standing behind me, I was pretty sure I would feel them.

  “What is the plan with the spices?” I leaned in, still gripping his arm.

  He glanced down at my hand and I realized I was still holding the screwdriver.

  I pointed the end toward him. “Well?” I asked, lowering my voice in an attempt to sound menacing. I could feel Stan start to shake.

  “I don’t … I can’t …” he stuttered. This was far less satisfying than I was hoping for. I almost felt bad for him, but I remembered what we were fighting for. Whether or not his mother was a bully, he was still helping her and that still made him the enemy.

  “Come on, Stan.” I sweetened my voice and lowered the screwdriver. “Don’t you want to do the right thing?” His eyes met mine for a split second.

  “I can’t. Ivan would kill me,” he said softly.

  “Who’s Ivan?” The remaining color from Stan’s already pale complexion drained from his face.

  “Z, what are you doing?” Josh was walking towards us. I dropped Stan’s arm. He was gone before I could get out another word. For a clumsy guy, he could move fast.

  “Listen, Josh, I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” I felt a twinge of guilt thinking about the two other light fixtures still sitting on the floor.

  “Is everything okay?” He followed me to my car.

  “I’ll call you later.”

  I called Violet first, then Aunt Erma. Violet was curt and demanding, as usual. Aunt Erma got strangely quiet after hearing about my encounter.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I told her. I felt anxiety swell after I hung up. I’d been ready for a lot of different reactions from Aunt Erma, but silence wasn’t one of them.

  ***

  Violet was waiting at the pie shop when I got back, ready to ask more questions.

  “Did it look like he had the spices with him?”

  “Well, I didn’t check his pockets, but I don’t think so.”

  “You didn’t see any evidence of magic?” She was holding a notebook with a pen poised over the page. I wracked my brain, wishing I could give her something more, anything. Everything at the job site had seemed fine, but I hadn’t exactly been keeping an eye out for the Drakes to appear.

  “Will Josh be okay?” The last thing I wanted was to somehow drag him into this crazy world. I couldn’t even imagine his reaction if I said, “Hey, magic is real and this crazy magic family is trying to steal all of Aunt Erma’s special spices so they can take over the world. So maybe keep an eye out.”

  “He should be fine. We have some Magic Enforcement Officers stationed around the house now.” She turned to leave.

  “Will you let me know if you find Stan?” I asked. She gave me a distracted nod and wa
s gone.

  ***

  It was a small spell. One I had been practicing with hit or miss success for the last couple weeks. Aunt Erma showed me the words to say from one of Flora’s books, and I repeated them until I had them memorized.

  It was just supposed to brush all the crumbs off all the tables so I could easily sweep them off the floor. The magical cleaners came every night, though I’d still never seen them, only their handiwork, but we still had to keep the pie shop presentable during the day. There was also a spell to sweep up the crumbs, but I hadn’t learned it yet.

  “That one’s a bit more complicated,” Aunt Erma said. I was eager to learn, but she was constantly worried about overwhelming me. So for now, I stuck to a broom and dustpan. The “old school” way.

  The tables were coated with so many pie crumbs. As with any new spell, Aunt Erma had supervised me the first few times I’d done it, but today she was in the kitchen adding chocolate curls to the French Silk pies.

  I focused my energy and muttered the spell.

  A loud bang made me jump. The crumbs had certainly all fallen off the tables, but the pictures had all fallen off the walls and all the needles and decorations had fallen off the Christmas tree too. It looked like a sad naked stick. Aunt Erma came running out of the kitchen, her eyes wide.

  “What happened?”

  “I think I did it wrong.” I stood frozen, surveying the damage.

  ***

  We made plans to go out tree shopping. Apparently the world would end if we didn’t have a Christmas tree in the front of the pie shop.

  “I’m not going to be able to go with you today,” Aunt Erma announced as I wrote the different pie flavors on the chalkboard.