by Rosie Pease
I nodded. “Maybe you’re right.” By the time I was almost done with unpacking Mom’s car, I no longer cared where I was throwing things. I’d just wanted it out of my hands so I could get the next load.
“Tea’s steeping!” Mom called from the kitchen.
“There, now,” Gram said soothingly. “Why don’t you go grab your mug, then we can sit down and figure out what we’re eating.”
“Okay, let me hang up my coat.” I walked back over to the door and hung the coat on the knob. “I was thinking we could go out and grab a coat um—”
That’s when I saw it.
The paper bag I had put inside the door from the hallway was tipped over and open. Had I unknowingly invited a ghost inside in my rush to leave?
“Um, what?” Gram asked.
I turned around to face her, but my gaze kept falling to the bag on the floor, distracting me from my thought as I answered. “Um, a coat-umbrella thingie, you know one of those stands.” I extended my arm above me to show Gram the height of the thing I couldn’t remember the name of. I snapped my fingers as it came back to me, “A coat tree,” but my eyes remained focused on the bag.
“What are you looking at?”
“Did either of you open the paper bag I put here before I left?”
Mom walked back into the room at that moment, taking a sip out of a purple mug. “Bag?” She had no idea what I was talking about.
I pointed to it at my feet.
“Honestly, I forgot all about it.”
“What was in it?” Gram asked.
“That’s the thing. I never looked.” I stooped and picked it up. It was a noticeably lighter. “It wasn’t heavy, but whatever was in it is gone now.” I placed it back on the ground and stood.
“Are you sure there was something in it?”
That earned my mom a look. “I’m pretty sure I would have figured out if it was empty the first time I picked it up.” I placed my hands on my hips and realized I got this stance from both her and Gram now that I could see I mirrored their poses almost exactly.
Mom held up her arms in surrender. “Sorry. I still think you’re overwhelmed with everything going on.” She took a seat on the far side of the couch and set her mug down on the coffee table. “Yours is on the counter. I poured one for you too, Mom.”
Gram walked back over to me and linked her arm through mine. “Come. Let’s get that tea.” She led me into the yellow and blue kitchen, half-pulling.
“Gram, you can’t just bring a ghost inside without knowing, can you? What if that’s what was in that bag?”
She dropped my arm when we made it to the stove. She grabbed her tea, then handed me my purple mug. I blew on the surface of the steaming liquid. It had become second-nature to me. Almost instinctual.
“Without knowing? I don’t think so,” she answered, then took a small sip of her tea. “That’s part of why we put wards on your doors after we smudged.”
“Wards?” More witchy stuff I didn’t quite believe in.
Gram rolled her eyes. “You really should learn about your heritage.”
“How will I learn if you don’t tell me?” I batted my eyelashes at her.
She tried to stifle a grin and failed. “Wards keep ghosts outside. But if you invite one in, they can cross your threshold. Don’t know why you’d do it willingly, but I’m really not sure if you can do it without knowing it.” She clapped her hand on my shoulder. “Just don’t bring any antiques into the apartment and you should be fine.”
“But what about—”
“That bag? Do you think a ghost would attach itself to something so disposable? No, the object has to mean something.”
“Could it have been in the bag?”
“Well, I guess anything is possible, but maybe whatever it was rolled away like the things in that plastic bag.” She spun me around and gave me a small shove toward the living room. “Come on, I’m hungry. Let’s look at those takeout menus.”
I sat on the couch, opposite my mom. Gram smushed in the middle. I pulled the blanket that I was half-sitting on out from under me.
“Riaoww!”
Chapter 5
I shot up to my feet as quick as lightning.
“What was that!”
Gram stood up, too, grabbing the blanket I had been in the process of moving. She pushed back one of the folded portions. “I think we’ve found your ghost.”
“What?”
She stepped back, revealing a small calico kitten. She wasn’t a baby, but she was far from full-grown. A few months old, then.
My mom gasped. “A kitten!”
It took off like a shot and skittered around one of my boxes, jostling a few things in another bag as it scurried away to hide.
I followed the kitten quietly and lifted the box it had run behind, then placed the box on top of another one at my side. I squatted down and shifted another box away from where I thought the kitten had gone after that.
“There you are,” I cooed, hoping a soft voice would calm it down.
It hissed. It was one of the cutest noises I’d ever heard.
“Oh, come now,” I said in not quite a whisper. “It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you.” I stuck my hand close to the kitten so it could smell me and realize I was okay.
Instead, it batted at my finger.
“Oof, you’ve got some sharps claws there, don’t ya?” I kept my fingers still and avoided eye-contact. I didn’t want to scare her any more than she already was. At least I assumed it was a she and not one of those one-in-three-thousand calico males.
She whacked away at my hand for several moments until I finally felt a little nose press against my knuckle.
“There we go, see? I’m not scary.” I slowly wiggled my finger back and forth.
When the kitten didn’t bat at it, I inched my hand closer to her until I could pet the top of her head with one finger. She didn’t react, which I took as a positive sign. At least she hadn’t shrunk back. I added another finger, then another, before sliding my hand down to scratch under her neck.
That seemed to do the trick. The little calico melted into my touch.
I knew I had her. I reached in with my other hand and scooped her up.
She froze as I brought her to my chest and stood up, but with some more neck scratching, she relaxed into my hold. I studied her. She had a white belly with patches of ginger-tabby and black on her back and head. Her little pink nose had a tiny black line running down the center of it.
“She’s so cute,” Gram squealed quietly.
“But where did she come from?” Mom asked.
I ticked my head back and to the side to indicate the paper bag tipped over by the door. “She’s probably what was in that.”
“Aww, the poor thing.” Mom got up from the couch and walked over to the paper bag on the floor. “Who would do such a thing?” She picked up the bag and peeked inside. “There’s a note.”
I hadn’t looked inside the bag when I picked it back up. It hadn’t felt like there was anything left in it.
Gram didn’t miss a beat. “Well, what does it say?” she asked as Mom reached inside and unfolded the piece of paper. She let the bag fall to the floor.
Mom turned the paper and read aloud, “My cat had kittens a while back, and I have been trying to find homes for them. I can’t take care of them all. You look like a good person. Please give this girl a good home. She’s cute, but she’s a bit sassy. Thank you. All the best.” She dropped her hand with the note to her side. “It’s not signed.”
“Well, that explains that, then,” Gram said.
“Explains what?” I asked as I continued staring at the kitten sitting contentedly in my arms as I pet her.
“How everything you claim got moved, moved.” Gram pointed to the things that had rolled out of the plastic bag. “That little one woke up, freaked, got out of the bag, and ran around before hiding under the blanket on the couch.”
I nodded. It certainly made sense.
“What do you mean what am I going to do with it?”
“Surely, you aren’t keeping it.”
“I’m keeping her.” It wasn’t a hard decision. She’d been dropped off on my doorstep. I certainly wasn’t going to be the second person to abandon her. I believed she was meant for me.
“You just moved in. You go to school full time. You have a work-study job.”
“She’s a cat. It’s not like I need to take her for walks multiple times a day or worry about her eating my couch cushions.” The kitten had started to purr. “Besides, she likes me.”
“Oh, come now, Mel.” With those four words, I knew Gram was on my side. She always was. “You know as well as I do that familiars just come to you. They find a way. This is the way.” I didn’t know what she meant by that last part. What in the world was a familiar?
I could tell Mom was getting worked up. I didn’t really think she was upset about me getting a cat. She was probably more hangry than anything. I got the same way. She pointed at me with an open hand. “But she’s a poor college student.”
She wasn’t wrong about that, but how expensive could having a kitten be? After the initial vet visits, of course. I hadn’t forgotten about those.
“It will work itself out.” Gram winked at me as Mom huffed and returned to the couch. Gram slid over to where I had been sitting to give her some room. “So what are you going to name her?”
“Um . . .” I looked down at the kitten, who now appeared to be sleeping. “Sassy? That’s what the note said she was.”
The kitten cracked one eye open and glared at me.
“Okay, not Sassy. Dolly?”
She continued her one-eyed stare.
“Does she look like a Dolly?” Gram asked.
I shrugged. “No, not really.”
Gram scratched her chin, her thinking stance. “Well, something will come to you.”
I nodded, and the calico started to squirm. She was ready to get down.
“But in the meantime, can we figure out what we’re eating?” Mom asked.
“Sure. Then we need to go out and get some stuff for the kitten.” I put her on the floor, and she darted toward the tube of lip balm I had yet to pick up. She smacked it, and it spun across the floor. She pounced on it, then smacked it again.
“And let’s not forget your coat tree,” Gram said.
I walked back toward the coffee table and picked up a menu. “Pizza?”
They both nodded.
“About time,” Mom added.
We ordered a large Hawaiian pizza with pepperoni instead of ham and several sides. We never could make up our minds when it came to what we wanted to eat, so we typically ordered way more than we needed. But that meant I would have leftovers for a few days.
After we ate, we ran to several stores, including a furniture shop. Gram was adamant that I get my coat tree if that’s what I wanted. She got that way sometimes, but I had learned to run with it. I also had no groceries, so we had to fix that. With the addition of the kitten, I needed to get a litter box, cat food, dishes for her food and water, and a couple of toys. She couldn’t play with my lip balm forever. As I searched for the right coat tree while Mom was off looking at hallway mirrors, Gram walked over to me with two silver candlesticks and an envelope, a devious grin on her face.
“Shh . . . For the kitten.” She passed me the envelope. Opening it, I saw several twenty-dollar bills inside.
“Gram, you don’t have to do this.”
She winked and said, “Don’t tell your mother.”
It would be our secret. “Thank you.” I gave her a big hug.
“And I’m getting these for you too.” She held up the candlesticks. “You never know when they might be useful.” I wasn’t going to argue. They were pretty, and living in an area with ice storms, occasionally heavy snowfall, and the odd hurricane, I figured if the power ever went out, they would come in handy. What else would I need candlesticks for?
Gram and Mom left for a nearby hotel shortly after we got back to the apartment. It allowed me to set up things for the kitten and to unpack my bedroom a bit so I could at least sleep in there tonight instead of on the couch. They came back and took me out for dinner before they returned to their room for the night. We’d go out for breakfast in the morning before they got on the road.
That night, the kitten curled up with me on my bed, right between my knees.
Chapter 6
J-Term was flying by. Week two was almost over already. I’d been enjoying learning all about making savory breads and hand pies. My favorite so far had been the caramelized onion and feta bread. The rosemary lemon rolls had come in at a close second. With all of the food I’d been getting to bring home after class, in addition to practicing at home, I hadn’t gotten takeout once. My wallet was better off for it.
Part of J-Term’s intensity was that it had morning and afternoon sessions with only an hour in between the two. I typically went home to have at least a half hour to eat lunch and play with the kitten, but it was gently snowing today, and I didn’t want to walk through it until I had to at the end of the day. If it was still snowing, of course. The weather here was such that it could change within minutes. Instead, I hung out in the campus coffee shop during my free hour.
They’d finally run out of eggnog mocha after the first three days of J-Term. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who liked it. I switched to drinking peppermint lattes after Meredith promised they would be available until spring. I was a creature of habit and liked sticking to one drink.
Meredith plopped into the seat across from me and set her iced coffee on the table. She was on a break between her J-Term sessions too. “I am exhausted. Remind me not to do a J-Term next year. I’m going to want one last vacation before having to enter the real world after graduation.”
I smiled and blew on my drink. Still too hot. “Will do. But didn’t I tell you to do that this year?”
“Yeah, but I really mean it for next year.” She laughed. “And I still need to work a half shift when class ends. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“That you wanted to try something different and couldn’t add it into your semester schedule. Or was that just me?”
“Nope, that pretty much sums it up.” She took a long sip of her iced coffee, then stirred her straw through it, the ice cubes softly clunking against one another.
“Hey, do you remember that guy who works in the bookstore?”
Her already round eyes grew wide. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? He comes in to the coffee shop practically every day.”
I was glad she’d noticed him in here as much as I had. It affirmed the feelings I had whenever I saw them in the same vicinity. They were hard to describe, a cross between a tingling in my toes to butterflied in my stomach. The feelings told me one thing, though. Meredith and Dan were supposed to be together.
“Why?” she asked. “Are you interested in him?”
“Me?” I pointed at myself. “Ha! No.”
She visibly relaxed.
“But the next time he comes in when you’re working, you should get his number,” I suggested.
She dismissed my statement with a wave. “I’ve sworn off men.”
I knew that was nonsense. “Uh-huh, sure.” I blew on my latte once more and waited for her to bite.
She leaned closer and propped her arms up on the table with her elbows. “Why? Do you think he’s interested?” She rested her chin in her hands and asked, “Did he say something to you?”
I could have laughed at how quickly she changed her tune about guys when she thought one was into her. “I just have a really good feeling about the two of you is all.”
“You sure?”
I nodded. “I’ve never been wrong.”
And I hadn’t been. Not that I regularly tried to pair people up—that was more my mom’s forte. But I had been good in high school at setting up my friends
with dates to dances or whatever other events were going on. If the two save the date announcements hanging on my fridge were any indication, sometimes my matches stuck, especially the ones where I got tingly toes and butterflies in my stomach when I saw them together before making the pairing.
Meredith sighed then grabbed her iced coffee and drew a long sip through her straw. “He is cute.”
“Mm-hmm,” I said in fake agreement, not that she’d be able to tell I thought otherwise. He wasn’t my type. I didn’t like the shaggy hair look, and he was much too laid back for me if my brief interactions with him had told me anything, but Meredith didn’t need to know that.
“You know? I’m going to do it. I’m going to get his number.”
“Good for you. Let me know how it goes.” I blew across the surface of my coffee for a final time and chanced a sip.
Perfect.
That evening, once I was finally home from my second class, I decided to experiment with the Lussekatter. After feeding the kitten and having a leftover Cornish hand pie for dinner, I cleaned up and got ready.
Our next to last unit was on saffron. It was a yellow to red spice that gave foods a golden hue that came from a particular variety of crocus that had a short growing season and had to be picked by hand. The flavor was a little hard to describe. I wasn’t sure any two people could taste the same thing when they had it. For me it was a slightly sweet honey-like flavor. Mom didn’t like it at all, as we discovered the first time I made Lussekatter as a teen. She said it was bitter.
This was the unit I had been planning for since before term started. I laid out all of my ingredients, setting out my mis en place just like I’d learned years ago when I took my first kids’ cooking class at the community center in my town.
“Now where’s the saffron?” I knew I had it. Not only did I have a small tin from the supply kit to use in class, I had gotten a slightly larger tube of it to practice with at home. It wasn’t cheap. I had paid over twenty dollars for three grams of the spice. But after putting everything else I’d need on my counter, I couldn’t find either container anywhere.
The kitten came trotting into the kitchen and sat down at my feet.