Plenty of Trouble

by Magenta Wilde

  I also hoped my cousin’s shallowness hadn’t been instilled by aunt. Lindy was a bit vain, but she was also unassuming and elegant – a silk blouse, a string of pearls and a swipe of red lipstick kind of lady. She wasn’t a human glitter bomb like Plenty was.

  “What is behind all this,” I asked, turning to Plenty. “Why do you want to make every guy like you? Why do you need a spell to make you look more appealing? Why are you so hell bent on finding someone rich?”

  Plenty gave me a curious look, then turned away.

  “Yes,” my mother and aunt turned in unison toward Plenty. “Why are you this way? What do you think it will accomplish?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Plenty said, refusing to make eye contact.

  “Is it because you want someone to take care of you?” I asked. “I understand that, to some extent.”

  Plenty didn’t respond.

  “Is it because you think being beautiful is the only way you’ll be loved?” my mother asked.

  Still nothing.

  “Is it because you’re scared of getting older? Of getting old? Or losing your looks?” Aunt Lindy offered.

  Plenty crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked all around my store, at everything and anything but the three of us.

  “I think we’re on to something,” I said. “Why do you feel this way, Plenty?”

  “You’re not on to anything,” Plenty scoffed. “I was just … experimenting.”

  “Experimenting?” my mother laughed out loud. “Experimenting is trying a new lipstick color. It’s trying a new nail polish color. It’s not enchanting a compact to turn men into raging bulls for you.”

  “Why do you really feel the need to try this?” I asked. “Do you realize how extreme this is, to try and make people believe you’re not just a pretty woman, but the most desirable one they’ve ever seen? What’s wrong with developing yourself? Your mind, your interests, your personality? Why not pour your energy into that?”

  Plenty pulled out her compact and darted a quick peek into the mirror, then grimaced and quickly shoved it back into her pocket.

  My mother and I shot telling looks in each other’s directions.

  Mom sidled over to Plenty and placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. She then began tracing her fingers up her angular cheek.

  Plenty inched away from my mother’s reach. “What are you doing, Aunt Fiona?”

  “I’ve just never noticed how high your cheekbones are, or how smooth your skin is,” Mom began. “It’s intoxicating.”

  Aunt Lindy’s mouth dropped open in shock as she watched my mother in action.

  “And I never realized how long and shapely your legs are,” Mom continued, placing her hand on my cousin’s hip.

  Plenty, alarmed, stepped farther away from my mother. “What’s going on here,” she stammered.

  Mom moved closer, cupping the girl’s chin. “Such a perfect face, and those lips.”

  Plenty darted closer to the door, seemingly intent on fleeing my boutique.

  “Is that the cursed compact,” Aunt Lindy asked. “Is that what’s going on here?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Plenty sniffed.

  “I never got a close look at the thing. How about letting me have a peek?”

  “Not now, Mother. Maybe some other time.”

  “But Plenty, I’m your mother. I gave birth to you and all.”

  “Oh,” I commented, “now I see the family resemblance.” I looked over at my mother. “You two are related with your knack for guilt trips.”

  “Your timing on this is poor,” my mother warned, her voice low.

  Plenty seemed relieved to have the attention off of her for a moment. She took the opportunity to get up and make her way even closer to the door. Aunt Lindy stepped in front of her and held out her hand. “Let me see it.”

  “Not right now. I noticed the powder is trickling out,” Plenty said. “Later, after I clean it up.”

  “Oh, come now, I’m not worried about that,” Aunt Lindy said, moving to further block her.

  “I just don’t want to make a mess in Poppy’s shop.”

  Plenty looked stubborn, resolute. I was wondering if it was going to be tackling time.

  Jordan suddenly returned, a huge brown paper bag stamped “Emily’s Eatery” in hand. “Vanessa dropped me off. She’s running to the market for coffee creamer and sugar. She’ll be back in a – ” He paused when he saw some kind of standoff was going down. “Um, what’s happening here?”

  “We’re just having a little chat,” I offered. “Plenty, why don’t you show your mirror to Jordan? Why don’t you try it on him.”

  Plenty gave me a look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Now she’s just playing dumb,” Mom said.

  “Well, she is good at being that, so I suppose it’s playing to her strengths,” I said.

  “Poppy!” Aunt Lindy warned. “As much as my girl annoys me sometimes, she isn’t dumb.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Plenty looked triumphant.

  “That’s not to say,” Aunt Lindy continued, “that she isn’t doing dumb things.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry, Aunt Lindy. She did do some amazing witchery, but the intentions were not quite so good. Plenty needs more discipline and focus.”

  I inched closer, and so did Mom. Aunt Lindy stayed where she was, and Jordan went and set the bag on the counter before moving nearer the exit. When Plenty didn’t seem to notice, instead looking both annoyed and hurt by Aunt Lindy’s and my comments, Mom and I stepped a bit closer. I hoped one of us was in position to block my cousin.

  “If you can grab that compact from her, do it and run,” I hissed under my breath.

  “What are you up to?” Jordan asked.

  Plenty realized we were circling her. Something flashed in her eyes and she understood we had something in mind. She began to back away from us. When her gaze landed on the door, mom and I darted in her direction.

  “Stop her!” I warned.

  Aunt Lindy, Jordan, Mom and I made our way to snare Plenty by trying to back her into a corner. Mom reached out to grab her upper arm and slow her progress.

  Jordan lunged and wrapped his arms around Plenty’s waist and tried to hold her in place. He was stronger, but she was more than willing to fight dirty. While her arms were flailing and her legs were kicking, I saw a brief window and lunged for her pocket. I felt a thrill of victory when my hand landed on the compact and I yanked it free.

  “Hey!” she yelped. “Give me that back!”

  “Not on your life,” I snapped, backing away, trying to think where to run and hide the thing before she could free herself and snatch it back.

  “Give it back!” she repeated. “It’s mine. It was a gift.”

  “No way.”

  She continued trying to jerk free, managing to slap away Mom’s arm, and stomp her heel on Jordan’s foot and elbow him hard in the ribs. He let out a loud “oof” and let her go.

  Plenty rushed toward me. I stumbled as I tried to avoid her grabbing hands and tried to stuff the compact into the waistband of my jeans, hoping she’d give up, or someone would distract her until I could get away.

  Plenty climbed over me and began digging into my pockets as she searched for the pilfered compact. When I refused to budge, she paused for a second and I relaxed, thinking she was about to give up. Then her grimace turned into an evil grin, and I knew what she was going to do. I tried to buck her off me, but it was too late. She began tickling my ribs with one hand while hunting for the mirror with the other.

  “Cut that out!” I shrieked. When we were kids she’d often dominate and torment me because I was so ticklish. I gave up fighting the keep the compact, as I was gasping for air, when I felt her hand slip under my waistband and extract the mirror. I tried to elbow her side to dislodge her and get her to drop the cursed object, but I had no luck.

  “Ah-ha!” she shouted in victory. I s
traightened and sat back, looking up at her. My Aunt Lindy and Mom tried to reach up and claim the compact, and Jordan stood by the door still looking dazed and hopping up and down on one foot.

  “Let her have it,” I said. “If she wants it that badly, let her.”

  “That’s it?” my mother said, looking at me with surprise. “You’re just going to let her because she tickled you?”

  Aunt Lindy looked surprised, too. “I thought you had more fight in you, Poppy.”

  “I’m at the point where she can make her own damn mistakes,” I groused. “You two will be gone soon. She can take it back to Detroit and live with the consequences. With any luck, Plenty will learn from them.”

  Plenty slowed down and smiled, sticking out her tongue. “You’re just jealous.”

  “No. I’m just tired of this. What I thought was supposed to be a nice family visit has turned into something else. I’m tired of the preening and the primping, and I’m tired of all the fighting that’s happened the last few days.”

  Plenty looked surprised, as Mom and Aunt Lindy stopped and looked my way. Jordan paused, too, unsure what to do.

  Plenty leaned back against the doorframe and opened the mirror, eyeing her reflection, fussing with her eyeliner. She looked smug for a second, then when she took a closer look she appeared pained, though she tried not to show it so much this time.

  “What you see in that mirror, that’s what you’re reaping,” I said.

  “You’re just jealous because you couldn’t get the compact away from me.”

  “Whatever. That’s a small loss for me.” I turned away and went to the stool I had set up behind the counter. “I warned you. It’s on you now.”

  Plenty came over and waved the compact in my face, inviting me to grab at it. I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. I really was past caring at this point. Soon she would leave, and good riddance was all I could say.

  When I didn’t respond she returned to the doorway and clicked open the mirror once again, peering at her reflection. She stuck her tongue out and me and thumbed her nose at my mother. Aunt Lindy moved over by me and sighed. “I don’t know what to make of my girl,” she said.

  “You tried to beat me, and you couldn’t!” Plenty chirped as she did a little dance and pointed. “You fell and caved when I tickled you. Do you know how much you suck right now?”

  The door opened in the middle of Plenty’s taunting and in walked Vanessa. She paused for a split second, looked around the room and spotted Plenty mocking us and fidgeting with her mirror.

  “That’s enough!” Vanessa bellowed, her face a mask of annoyance. “I’ve had it!” In a flash she snatched the compact away from Plenty and flung it onto the floor. “I’m sick of you constantly staring at your face in that mirror!” Metal clanked against the hard surface. I heard glass shatter as powder clouded up into the air. I was certain I saw a curling wisp of black smoke drift up, too, before it finally dispersed.

  It was over that quickly.

  A second later we heard a loud wailing. It was Plenty, her hand clutched tight to her right cheek, blood trickling through her fingers.

  Aunt Lindy and Mom quickly made their way to my cousin’s side, and managed to get her to pry her hand away. She had a deep gash on her cheek, and for a moment her face looked worn and tired, like she’d gone days without a good night of sleep.

  “Did a piece of glass fly up and cut you?” Aunt Lindy asked, examining her daughter.

  “I don’t know. Something cut me,” Plenty whined.

  Vanessa looked horrified. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I just was tired of seeing her constantly playing around with that mirror, especially after yesterday’s fight.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “You didn’t do anything on purpose.”

  She and I made our way to the compact. I picked it up, and the metal frame was still intact. Some powder had spilled out onto the floor and fine particles still wafted up into the air. I snapped it open, and all the glass was still inside, just cracked and broken into five pieces.

  Mom looked around with Jordan, trying to find a stray shard of glass. “Do you see anything shiny on the floor?” she asked, looking at us each in turn.

  I shook my head and pointed the compact in her direction. “It’s all in here. It’s broken, but nothing flew out.”

  “That can’t be,” Plenty said. “Look at my face! I have blood trickling down my cheek.” She darted over and snatched the mirror from my hands. “It is intact? What the hell?” She peered at her likeness and looked shocked. “Oh my God, it’s such a long cut. That will leave a scar!” She looked closer at her shattered reflection and ran her fingertips under her eyes and over her forehead. “Huh. That’s weird.”

  “What is weird?” Aunt Lindy asked.

  “It’s back to normal.”

  “What is?”

  “My reflection. I look a bit pale, but I don’t see … well, what I saw just a few moments before.”

  “The spell is broken?” I asked. “I’d wondered if it would break along with the glass.” I made my way over to my cousin and peered over her shoulder. Sure enough, the tired, haggard version of Plenty was gone. Now it was her young, clear-skinned self, albeit with a long gash on her cheek.

  Vanessa disappeared and returned with a first aid kit. She instructed Plenty to sit and we all examined her face. After cleaning the wound we saw she had about a deep, two-inch cut on her cheek. It was similar to what one would get from a shard of glass. Every time one of us dabbed at the slash, bright red blood would pool up and trickle anew.

  “Maybe we should get you to the hospital for stitches,” Aunt Lindy suggested.

  “That will leave a scar!” Plenty whined. She turned to me, then my mother. “Is there a plastic surgeon in town?”

  I had no idea. My mother didn’t look certain either.

  “There might be one, but I really don’t know,” I said. “Maybe there’s one on the Canadian side.”

  “The Canadian side?” Plenty looked alarmed.

  “It’s not far,” I offered. “We’re a few minutes from the bridge. The wait time wouldn’t be long at this time of day either.”

  Plenty looked uncertain. “I don’t have an enhanced license. I just have your normal Michigan driver’s license. Would they still let me go over?”

  I honestly wasn’t sure.

  “What about a passport?” Mom asked.

  Plenty shook her head. “I let that expire years ago.”

  “If that’s the case,” Vanessa said, “your best bet is to go to the hospital – it’s just a few blocks away – and get stitches. They may have someone on staff who can advise what to do to minimize a scar. Plenty, I am so sorry. I didn’t realize that breaking the compact would do that.”

  “That’s alright,” Plenty said. “I know you just did it because you were jealous.”

  “Jealous?” Vanessa replied.

  “Sure, because I could have been a model, and you’re just too heavy and common to be a model. Though you are really pretty.”

  Vanessa opened her mouth to protest, but I gave her a quick head shake. There was no use arguing.

  Plenty kept fussing over her cheek, and her face turned redder as she ran her fingers over the cut. “Mommy?” she said, turning to Aunt Lindy, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I want to go home!”

  Aunt Lindy sighed. “Plenty. Let’s go to the hospital and have them take a look at it.”

  Plenty began wailing. “No. No one here can fix this!” She jabbed an angry finger toward her cheek. “I need to get back home to Detroit. There will be plenty of good plastic surgeons in Oakland County or in the Grosse Pointes. This needs to be looked at immediately!”

  “Honey, it’ll take five or six hours to get home,” my aunt warned.

  “If we leave right away and go eighty miles an hour we should be back home by four.”

  Aunt Lindy sighed again. She looked at each of us in turn
. “I guess we’ll cut our trip short then.”

  Plenty bounced up and dashed over to the Wheelers’ house. “I’ll hurry and pack.” Her mother followed, looking suddenly very tired.

  We all looked around at one another.

  Vanessa looked upset. “I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t realize that compact was jinxed like that.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “It was Plenty’s doing. She put funky, dark glamour on it. That what caused such a commotion at the Towne the other night. I was just going to hide it somewhere, maybe even bury it, but now that the mirror is broken, so is the spell.”

  “How did she do it exactly?” Jordan asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “She improvised. She told me some of her process the other day, but claimed there were gaps in her memory.”

  “Because of the spell?” Jordan asked, his eyes wide.

  I shook my head. “No. She said she’d been drinking wine and her memory was a bit fuzzy.”

  “Figures,” my mom snorted. “Improvisation can be dangerous when you’re trying something like that.”

  Jordan grimaced. “I don’t really know much about magic, but it seems like you should at least be sober when you try it.”

  Mom went and patted him on the back. “That already makes you wiser than Plenty. You don’t need to have many rules in magic, but to avoid doing it under the influence of anything that can cloud your judgment is one of them. Another is to never do it for purely selfish reasons. Stick to those and you should be alright, son.”

  Jordan smiled. I wasn’t sure if it was because of my mother’s compliment, the implication that he would doing magic in the future, or because she called him “son.” It was nice to see him so much more at ease and happier than when I first spotted him, alone and hunched over at Emily’s.

  “What?” Jordan asked. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

  “No reason,” I smiled. “I’m just glad to have you in our crazy little family.”

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