by Paula Lester
Sighing, Zoey bit back the rest of the torrent of words she wanted to send out toward Hope. It was just like the woman to be a touch on the mean side when dealing with people. Zoey was the opposite—erring on the side of being too nice most of the time.
Hope closed the register drawer and leaned her elbows on the counter. “They don’t usually realize I’m lying to them when I play this little game, either. I learned my poker face back in debate club. You remember that, don’t you?” She straightened up and laughed lightly. “I’m sure you do. We had that one debate in front of the whole school, and it came down to just you and me. But, in the end, I beat you.”
“You cheated,” Zoey spat before she could stop herself.
Hope rolled her eyes. “How do you cheat at debate?”
“I don’t know.” Zoey sulked, pushing her lower lip out. “Maybe you got the questions beforehand or something. I never figured that part out, but I know you did.”
The shop owner waved a hand and grabbed some bottles out of a small box on the counter, moving across the room to arrange them on a shelf with other colorful jars. “What do you need, anyway?”
Glad for the change of topic and a chance to finish her business at the shop and get out of there, Zoey answered, “Devil’s Shoestring and dried squid ink.”
Hope’s eyebrows shot up and she gave Zoey a surprised look. “Dried squid ink? For what?”
Reluctantly, Zoey told her about the possible djinni on the loose at the retirement center and how they needed to figure out what its container was. By the time she’d finished, Hope was shaking her head. “You don’t need dried squid ink for that. You need dried Dragon’s Blood. It’s the sap from an Asian plant, dried until it’s a fine powder, and I have a ton of it. It’s not too expensive, and it should do nicely for your purposes.”
But Zoey shook her head. “Do you have the Devil’s Shoestring?”
“Sure. That stuff’s easy to come by. Everybody and their brother uses it in their spell-work.” Hope crossed the room to a tall apothecary cabinet, pulled out a drawer, and grabbed a bag of twigs out of it.
Zoey accepted the bag. “Do you have the dried squid ink too?”
Hope pressed her lips together and crossed her arms. “No, but I can order it. I’m telling you it’s the wrong ingredient, though.”
For a second, Zoey wasn’t sure what to do. She trusted Doug, and he’d seemed sure about what she needed. But she hadn’t looked it up herself, and Hope was more immersed in this type of thing daily than Doug. Maybe she should just take the suggestion.
“You know, you always were a stubborn one,” Hope said. “I could never tell you anything when we were in high school either. Once you get something in your head, it would take an act of nature to get it back out again.”
“That’s not true,” Zoey objected. “I’m very open-minded, and I listen to people when they tell me stuff.”
“So, do you want the Dragon’s Blood?” Hope raised one eyebrow.
Zoey felt her eyelids squeeze closer together as she glared at the other woman. “Please order the dried squid ink,” she said between gritted teeth.
Hope chuckled and stalked back behind the counter. She grabbed an iPad and punched away at it a few times. Then she turned to the cash register and clicked some keys on that. “Okay, that’s three hundred and fifty dollars,” she said, a smug look covering her face.
Swallowing hard, Zoey forced her feet to take her over to the counter and then she dug in her purse until she found her business credit card. Her bosses were just going to have to pony up for the squid ink so she could catch the djinni and get it out of their building. It was a cost of doing business. But as she handed the card to Hope and watched her run it, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was going to get called on the carpet for this decision.
Chapter 10
Since it was only a five-minute drive, Zoey was still fuming about Hope when she got back to the retirement center. The gall of the woman to give people ridiculous instructions to follow when they wanted to do a simple spell. And to bring up that debate in high school! The nerve. She really was a piece of work.
She knew Hope was smart and capable. They’d worked together before, putting their disagreements behind them to make a formidable team. But that had been just a couple days with a shared focus. Beyond that, they didn’t have a friendship or any common ground on which to build one.
Zoey sighed, getting out of the car and locking it up. She tried to brush off the irritated feelings clinging to her after the brief visit to the occult shop.
As she crossed the thin strip of lawn between the street and sidewalk, Cyrus hurried past. She waved at him, but he barely acknowledged her. There wasn’t anything unusual about that—he had a one-track mind that was always focused on his plants.
When she got inside the retirement center, the common room was deserted. Checking her watch, she realized it was dinner time. She went down the hallway to her office, where she left her purse and tucked the Devil’s Shoestring into a desk drawer before heading to the dining room.
It looked like everyone was there, and the meal was in full swing. A dull roar of conversation and laughter filled the air, and Zoey couldn’t help but smile. For a second, she marveled at how these people and the retirement center felt like family and home to her. She’d been isolated as a kid, with a dark sorceress for a mom and a mostly absent dad, so, like many people with childhoods like hers, she’d created her own hodge-podge family as an adult.
“Ooh, roast beef? Can I get a plate?” She moved into the room and found an empty chair which she was able to squeeze in between Maria and Howie. Someone handed her an empty plate and then passed bowls of food for her to serve herself. Soon, she had a heaping dinner to dig into, and she did so with zest, laughing at Howie’s story about how he’d once tried to teach a guy with the coordination of someone with two left feet how to jump rope.
“And then he crashed into the bookshelf and almost got a concussion from a falling encyclopedia!”
Raucous laughter followed the end of the story, and then Travis dove right in with one of his own. It had something to do with money and banking and made very little sense to Zoey. It didn’t seem like anyone else understood it either, but Travis thought it was hilarious, and all the other people in the room laughed along with him just because he looked so joyful.
Zoey noticed Ashley sitting between Shawna and Jerry. She looked content and happy as she watched everyone enjoy the meal she’d made. Zoey caught her eye and gave her a thumbs-up sign, which the new chef returned enthusiastically.
After dinner, everyone helped clear the dishes off the table, wash, dry, and put them away by making an assembly line from the dining room into the kitchen. Ashley took charge, directing the proceedings, and they made short work of it.
Courtney Close clapped her hands once the last dish was packed away in its cupboard. “Who wants to play Yahtzee?” she called, her face lit up like one of the LED lights they used in the common room.
Silence fell over the room for a moment, and then Snores Pickett broke it by fist-pumping the air and crying out, “Yahtzee!” He turned and left the kitchen, and everyone followed him to the big common area. Working together, they set up three card tables that were usually stored in the front closet, along with folding chairs. Courtney produced dice and Yahtzee score pads, and they broke up into groups to play. “We’ll have a tournament,” the Social Director said. “Whoever wins at each table will play each other.”
It was the first idea the poor young woman had had that Zoey had seen the residents get onboard with. Maybe things were starting to turn around for her. Perhaps she’d make a great Social Director after all. Or maybe this had been one of Travis’s suggestions. Either way, Zoey was glad to see everyone jumping in.
Zoey ended up at a Yahtzee table with Shawna, Travis, and Snores. “I don’t want to brag,” she said, pushing her sleeves above her elbows and rubbing her hands together, “but I’m the reigning Yahtzee
champion here.”
Travis scowled at her. “I’ve lived here the entire time you’ve worked here. When did we ever have another Yahtzee tournament?”
“You don’t remember?” Zoey raised her eyebrows at him. “I smoked you by getting three Yahtzees in one game.”
The old miser’s eyes narrowed. “That never happened,” he insisted.
“Of course, it did! You still owe me a bar of gold from your vault for it.” Zoey grinned as Travis sat back, realizing she was kidding. She stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed the dice. “I’ll go first!” she said.
“Wow, who know our fearless leader was so competitive?” Snores said, making her wonder if it had been him who put the sign in front of her office door while she was napping. He leaned toward her. “You should know, dear, that I’m a bit averse to losing myself. If you want to lay down this particular challenge, you’ll have a run for your money.
She smirked at him. “Bring it,” she said.
Shawna chuckled. “I’m just here for the comedy.”
It was good to see Shawna smile—that expression seemed to be a rare occurrence on her face, and Zoey was worried about her.
Zoey got a small straight during her first round. Pouting, she handed the dice to Travis, who sneered at her good-naturedly. “Ha! Not happy with that for your first round, are you? Eat my dust!” The dice banged around inside the shaker as he shook it madly and then released, watching the small colorful cubes skitter over the table. “Ha! Look at all the sixes!” He exclaimed, doing a little dance in his chair.
Zoey crossed her arms and looked away. “Whatever,” she muttered.
Shawna chuckled.
Snores got a full house right away and then a long straight followed by a Yahtzee. Travis was doing well too but Zoey tagged behind, and Shawna was only putting single digits on her scoreboard.
Shouts and rowdy laughter came from each of the tables. When Steve leapt up and shouted, “Booyah! Yahtzee!” and did a little disco dance around the room, everyone nearly fell out of their chairs laughing.
Ashley appeared with plastic cups and a pitcher of lemonade after about an hour, when the four finalists were playing their game. Then she disappeared and reappeared with a plate of cookies. Zoey, having lost her first game to Snores, helped distribute one to each person, and then they stood behind the game to watch. Steve, Snores, Ester, and Jerry were fighting for the title. Steve was ahead, but none of them had gotten a Yahtzee. When Ester had to cross hers out, she put her pen down and threw her hands up. “That’s it for me—no way I can win now.” She reached into her ever-present knitting bag and removed a set of needles and a partly-finished blue article that might have been a blanket or thick scarf.
Snores rolled three sixes and snapped his fingers. “I already got my sixes. But I need four of a kind.” He sat back, studying the dice for a minute. Then he scooped up all but the three sixes and rolled again. “Yes!” He pumped his fist in the air. “Another six.”
Jerry winced. The game was clearly down to Steve and Snores now. Everyone who wasn’t playing gathered around the table to see what would happen, munching on cookies and sipping lemonade.
Steve studied his scoreboard and grabbed the dice. Forgoing the shaker to use his fist, he sent the dice loose and watched intently as they came to rest. “I just need fours,” he muttered. “If I get five of them, I can put this game to rest. Come on, fours”
“Ha! Five fours? You might as well ask the sky to turn green. Everyone knows it’s almost impossible to get more than two fours.” But Snores looked uneasy as he watched intently.
Everyone seemed to hold their breath as the dice stopped moving and they all strained to see the numbers. “Argh,” Steve groaned. “No fours. Okay, one more try.”
Another throw, more breath-holding, and then another groan. Steve threw his hands up and slumped in his chair.
“Ha! I win!” Snores stood up, turning around and waving his hands as though he was a king letting all his subjects get a glimpse of him. Courtney Close hurried forward, grabbing his right wrist and raising that arm. “May I present to all of you the Sunnyside Retired Witches Community Yahtzee Tournament Reigning Champion!”
The room erupted into cheers and applause. Everyone stopped to clap Snores on the back or shake his hand before they dispersed, heading to their rooms for the night.
Steve, Courtney, Kelli, Ashley, and Zoey worked together to put away the tables and chairs, everyone congratulating the Social Director on a highly successful evening.
As Zoey finished saying goodnight to everyone and started up the stairs to her suite, she couldn’t help but smile. She’d had a fun evening with her adopted family, nothing weird had happened in the complex all day, and everything seemed right with her world.
Things were looking up.
Chapter 11
“Your squid ink is here.”
Zoey made a face at the cell phone in her hand but forced herself to use a nice tone of voice when she answered Hope. “Okay, I’ll come and get it in a little while. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Has your djinni been giving you more trouble?” the shop owner asked.
Zoey hesitated, wondering if she’d imagined the eager tone in the other woman’s voice. Did she want Zoey to be having a hard time? “Actually, it’s been quiet around here since the day I was at your shop. Maybe it’s gone. Or we were wrong about it being Djinn.”
There was a pause, and Zoey felt irritated. Though she had no real way of knowing what Hope was thinking, the pause made her think the woman wasn’t convinced the problems at the retirement home were finished. Or maybe she was wishing they wouldn’t be.
It didn’t matter—she’d used the business credit card to pay for the dried squid ink, so she was definitely going to get it. If they didn’t need it to attempt to find a djinni bottle, maybe they’d have a use for it in the future.
After she hung up, Zoey spent a few minutes doing paperwork at her desk before heading out. Once again, she considered sending Steve to Hope’s place. But then an image of the last time the occult shop owner was in the retirement home sprang to her mind. Hope had really been flirting with Steve. And while she told herself that didn’t bother her one bit—because why should she care? She had a boyfriend—she found herself shying away from the idea of sending him right to her. She sighed. She’d just have to put on her big girl panties and get it over with. It was part of her job.
On her way out, she stopped to listen in on a conversation between some residents in the main common room. Snores was regaling everyone with embellished stories of how he’d won the Yahtzee tournament. “I rolled eight Yahtzees in a row!”
Zoey hid a smile behind her hand. Even though all the people he was talking to had actually been in the room during the Yahtzee game and should know better, they wore identical rapt expressions, appearing to eat up every word.
Zoey stepped forward. “I suggest you hold on tight to that title, Mr. Pickett. I intend to challenge you for it the next time we have a game night. And I know Steve isn’t going to go down without a bigger fight this time, either. If I were you, I’d practice as much as possible between now and then if you have any ideas about getting into the winner’s circle again.”
Snores puffed out his chest and grinned. “Young lady, only losers need to practice. And I am not a Yahtzee loser. So, you go ahead and bring your challenges, but bring a bowl of soup when you come at me because you’re going to be crying into it when the game’s over.” He winked at her, and the crowd erupted into laughter.
She inclined her head as though to acquiesce and headed toward Kelli’s office. “I have to go over to Hope’s shop,” she told the receptionist. “I should be back in an hour at the most. Do you need anything while I’m out?”
Kelli was turning in a slow circle, gazing at everything in her office. “No,” she said absently. Then she looked at Zoey and said, “Actually, yes. Can you grab me one of the planners Hope has at her shop? The ones with the butterflies
on them and little spells on every page? I can’t find mine anywhere.”
Zoey moved farther into the room. “I don’t think you need a new planner. I think you need a new table.” She leaned down and pulled a thick book out from under the leg of a small table that stood under the window. The plant the table held wobbled and threatened to fall off. Zoey handed Kelli the book. “Or just use something other than your planner to stabilize that.”
Kelli smiled gratefully, and she looked embarrassed. A great receptionist she was not, but it was still just fine with Zoey because, boy, did she ever make the retirement home nice and cool.
Zoey decided to walk to Hope’s shop. It wasn’t far, and she felt like she’d been cooped up too much lately. She could use the exercise.
When she had gone about a block, a small black and white dog raced up to the sidewalk to greet her, carefully keeping all four paws firmly in his yard. He was so adorable, she couldn’t help but stop and kneel to pet him. He carefully lifted a paw and placed it on her knee, and she ruffled his ears. Then, he twirled in a circle three times, lolled his tongue out happily, and raced away.
As she continued walking, Zoey wondered if she should get a pet. They had a resident cat at the retirement home, but Sophia mainly kept to herself and no one saw her very often. Perhaps having a little dog would combat the loneliness she sometimes felt in her suite during the evenings.
She shrugged off the thought, putting it out of her mind to examine later when she arrived at Hope Vega’s shop. Unlike last time, when she entered, there were no other customers about, and Zoey spotted a bit of Hope’s blond hair behind a display of magical doo-dads. The shop owner leaned back to see who had caused the door’s bells to ring, and when she saw Zoey, crossed over to the counter. Reaching underneath, she pulled out a plastic bag and held it out. “Here’s your super-expensive-but-pretty-useless-for-revealing-djinni-containers dried squid ink.” She smirked.