by Lucia Ashta
“Maybe we could step inside to discuss things?” I suggested.
“Good idea,” Dixie said, but didn’t move to make room for us.
None of us moved. It was like a car accident, where you really didn’t want to look, but you couldn’t seem to help yourself.
Neither Jadine nor Jelly did much … until Jadine slammed her mouth against his.
“Oh,” Dixie squeaked.
Jadine and Jelly really started going at it, making out in the middle of the sidewalk.
“All right. Time to get inside,” I said.
Nodding fervently, Dixie backed into her house, opening the door wide. But her eyes never left the scene unfolding almost directly across the street from us.
The rest of us followed suit, backing in.
When Dixie closed the door behind us, I exhaled loudly. “Thank you. I didn’t want to watch anymore but it was like I just couldn’t stop myself.”
“Same,” Wanda said.
My aunts, Wanda, Dixie, and I stood crammed in the vestibule to the small house for a bit before we snapped ourselves out of it.
Wanda shook her head as if clearing it. “That was oddly mesmerizing.”
“Like watching reality TV,” I said. “You really don’t want to watch, and then four episodes later, you have no idea what happened.”
The women stared at me blankly.
“Ah,” I said. “Right. No streaming here.” Gales Haven had DVDs. Anything that didn’t require an internet connection. I’d even spied some old VHS tapes in the family room at Gawama Mama House.
I’d forgotten how much I’d enjoyed leaving town to go to the movie theater with Quade when we’d been younger. It had felt like a special outing to go into the next town over since we had none of that here.
Again, I digressed. My mind kept chasing squirrels, and I was starting to get hungry.
I ran my hand through my hair, remembered it was pinned up, dropped it, and said, “Dixie, can you track Spanx?”
She snort-laughed. “Is that what the leprechaun stole?”
I tried to be serious about my detective role … but failed. “Yep. He stole five pairs of them.”
“And they’re Jadine’s?” Her eyes were wide with greed. Without really knowing her, I understood that gossip was one of her main food groups.
“Yes,” I said, without elaborating. I had no intention of embarrassing Jadine while she was outside mauling the face of the most ill-humored man in town.
But Dixie’s eyes glittered. She backed up expertly on rhinestone-covered heels I wouldn’t wear unless my life depended on it, and teetered over to an archway that led into another room. “Let me just grab my spell stuff. I can get right on it.”
“Great, thanks.”
When she returned with lavender-colored sheets of loose paper and a small wooden humidor sized for cigars but certainly filled with something else, I asked her, “What’s it going to cost me?”
I hadn’t been gone from town long enough to forget how it worked here. No money was used. There was no credit or debt. Noreen Bradley, the scribe for the council, doubled as recorder and accountant. Whenever someone wanted something big, say a house, they went to see Noreen. She signed them up for a house—either to purchase or build—in exchange for bartered hours of work. Noreen made it all happen, maintaining an intricate ledger of who did what and for how long until they satisfied their agreement. Once Noreen struck the original arrangement, the ledger updated the rest on its own. A spell updated the tallies as the work hours were completed. There was no cheating the system.
Dixie’s exchange with me wasn’t important enough to warrant inclusion in Noreen’s ledger, but it wouldn’t come free—especially since she wasn’t a friend.
Dixie considered me while the rest of us waited. Since according to my aunts she was the only one in town any good at this, she had me up against a wall. I just hoped she didn’t realize it.
“You know what?” she finally said. “Let’s call it even. You just saved me from what I’m pretty sure would have been a big mistake. I don’t need the problems of Jadine, and after seeing her and Jelly together, I for sure don’t need him either.”
“No offense, Dixie,” Wanda started in the way one did when whatever was coming next was at least somewhat offensive. “But what were you thinking? Jelly is no match for you.”
“I am much prettier than he is.”
“You are, but that’s not what I meant.”
She shrugged. “Guess I should’ve asked Danny to stay instead, huh?”
“I’d bet you would’ve had more fun,” Aunt Luanne piped up, and I hurried to divert the conversation. I so could not handle the thought of this Danny as a lover to both Dixie and at least one of my aunts.
“The locator spell?” I prompted. “I’ll take the deal. Thanks.” I smiled.
“You got it.” She smiled back. “So the spell will take me a while to craft...”
“How long?”
She shrugged. “Like an hour or two at most. Their accuracy improves remarkably if I let them stew a bit. But you don’t need to be here while that happens.”
“Oh, good,” I said on a sigh. “I could use some lunch.”
“Your Aunt Jowelle’s food?”
“Yep.”
“Lucky you.”
“Definitely. How about I bring you some takeout when I pick up the spell?”
“Deal. But you can just drop off some goodies whenever you’re in the area. I don’t need you to come back for the spell. I’ll send you a whisper-tell when it’s done.”
“Okay. So how does it work?” I asked. Wanda and my aunts were attentive, meaning the effect of Mabel’s tinctures was already starting to wear off.
“I’ll link the spell to you, Marla. Once the spell is active, you’ll feel a tug, like intuition, leading you toward the object. In this case, the Spanx.” She snickered.
Thankfully, the rest of us didn’t, so we could get this done already without any more of my aunts’ laughing fits.
“You’ll be able to follow this feeling toward the Spanx until you find them. Once you locate them, the spell will end. It’s a onetime thing.”
“Got it,” I said. “Anything else you need from us now?”
“Nope. I’m sure there isn’t any other stolen Spanx in town for my magic to get confused with. I’ll start as soon as you leave.”
After more thanks and promises to deliver Aunt Jowelle’s food someday, we did leave, but we snuck out like burglars, peering through a cracked-open door before pulling it open all the way.
Jadine and Jelly were gone.
There wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to go looking for either one of them. Whatever they were up to, I was very happy not to be a witness to it.
Chapter Eleven
Though I invited Wanda to join my aunts and me for lunch at Gawama Mama House, she declined and left to check on Leonie instead. Apparently whenever Leonie had to go into the back room to assist customers, she was liable not to come back out again in any reasonable amount of time.
Since Aunts Luanne and Shawna were with me, I doubted Leonie would have cause to go into the back sex spell room—whatever it actually housed. Then again, apparently several women in Gales Haven considered Danny-time one of their favorite hobbies.
Maybe Wanda was right in thinking Leonie would be stuck in the back room while her café went unattended.
Regardless, Wanda promised me she was only taking a rain check, and that she’d be coming around to hang out with me all the time—like when we were younger. She made it sound a bit like a threat the way she leaned into me when she said it, as if I weren’t going to have a choice in the matter.
Luckily, I was looking forward to time with Wanda. We’d been thick as thieves before I left town, and whenever Quade and I hadn’t been locked away for alone time, which was often, we all hung out together, laughing our tails off at Wanda’s latest antics. We laughed even harder whenever she managed to rope us into them, and ha
rder still when we ended up in trouble.
As my thoughts turned to Quade, I sighed contentedly—amazed. Quade Contonn. I never imagined I’d have another chance at happiness with him…
Nan’s chuckle cut through my reminiscences. “Leave her be. She’s got that starry-eyed mooning look about her.”
Shaking my head to clear it, I looked over at my nan. She looked tiny seated at the head of the table, but her smile was wide, making her appear decades younger. This was the Nan I remembered and most loved. She was alight with life. I hoped she’d live forever, though death was one event witches had learned never to mess with—it rarely went well. But those with magic could live longer than regular humans; it all depended on what kind of power they possessed and whether it fueled their longevity. I had no idea whether Nan’s magic would extend her life by decades—after all these years I still hadn’t managed to pin down exactly all of what she could do—but she had her wily ways, so I was definitely hoping.
I didn’t want to have to do without my Nan. Ever. She was the bedrock of this family. Of the town.
“See?” she told the others. “She’s daydreaming.”
“About Quade I’d bet,” Aunt Luanne said from across the table from me.
“Hey, what?” I said.
Nan, my three aunts, and Everleigh, who was Nan’s guest for lunch, all laughed. Aunt Jowelle scowled.
Aunt Shawna leaned onto her elbows to peer at me from beside her, both brows raised. “You’re telling us you weren’t just thinking about Quade Contonn?”
Aunt Luanne waggled her brows. “And how handsome he is? And all that he can do with that fine body of his?”
“Holy hell nuggets, Aunt Luanne,” I said. “Does it always have to be about sex with you?” I leaned back to encompass Shawna in my next statement. “Life can be fun without everything being about sex, you know.”
Even as I said it, I wondered if I would have if Quade and I’d had a chance to get fully reacquainted.
I expected Luanne or Shawna to begin preaching about the benefits of sex and why being sex-crazed was better than being just plain crazed, which, according to them, was a real danger if they didn’t squeeze all the fun they could out of life. What I didn’t expect was for Everleigh to be the one to comment first.
Everleigh, with her eternally long, shockingly white hair, leaned forward from next to Aunt Luanne. She locked eyes with me. I’d never noticed how light hers were, or how unique. They were a blue so pale they appeared violet. She pinned me with them, and I wondered if she could see right into my soul.
“You’re forty-four, yes?”
I blinked in surprise. “That’s right. Though I’d rather you not rub it in.” I alone laughed awkwardly.
“Aging is nothing to be afraid of.”
“I’m not afraid—”
Her mouth spread into a cat-ate-the-canary grin, telling me flat-out she thought she knew me better than I knew myself. I had no idea whether she might be right.
“We women are like wine,” she said. “We get richer and finer with age. We discover the subtleties of our taste. When you learn to really honor your desires, you’re free. When you decide you don’t give a flying fart what anyone else thinks of you or what you do, then you’re free as a wild bird.”
“Heck yeah,” Aunt Shawna said, and Aunt Luanne nodded her head, silently saying, Preach, woman.
Aunt Jowelle tsked. “Behaving with self-respect and dignity is even more important.”
Everleigh smiled at her sadly, as if Jowelle were missing out on the point of life. Biting my lip, I had to agree with the crone who gave me the willies while simultaneously making me want to follow her to the end of the Earth.
Maybe she was right.
Everleigh said, “The way we have true respect and dignity for ourselves is to honor the true song of our spirit. That means not holding back, but letting our true selves come forward.”
“But that doesn’t necessarily have to be … sex.”
Aunt Jowelle pronounced the word like it was foul. Was she that traumatized over not being able to conceive a child that she associated her disappointment with sex? Why else would she hate the act?
I hadn’t enjoyed really good sex since the beginning of my marriage to Devin, when I threw myself into our relationship with the assumption that connecting in a physical manner would overcome the lack of true heart connection between us. Even so, I hadn’t forgotten how great sex could be. I hadn’t forgotten what it was like to share myself fully with Quade.
“You’re right,” Everleigh told Aunt Jowelle. “You don’t have to have sex to fully express or honor yourself. We’re all completely different, and as such, the same situation will have varying results in different individuals. What’s important is that we not hold back out of fear. Fear will keep you from living life. Once you aren’t afraid of what anyone thinks of you or what you do, you’ll feel thirty years younger. And once you don’t judge yourself for what you do, you may as well be a kid all over again. That’s when you really and truly start living.”
Damn, I wished I’d recorded that. That way I could replay it every time my mind wouldn’t shut off when I thought about Quade—and most everything else I did and then often doubted afterward.
Aunt Jowelle’s scowl was gone, replaced by an absent look in her eyes, suggesting she was deep in thought as well. Hopefully dreaming and not regretting.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Nan told Everleigh. “Life is meant to be lived. The more outrageously, the better.”
Everleigh beamed at my nan. “No wonder we get along so well.”
“Damn skippy,” Nan replied.
I sighed contentedly. My nan and Everleigh were well on their way to fulfilling my badass-crone-bestie fantasy. No way would these two not get into trouble—the best, empowering kind. I was going to love watching their friendship develop.
Taking a bite of Aunt Jowelle’s pasta salad—penne mixed with arugula, capers, Kalamata olives, fresh shavings of Parmesan, and a decadent dressing—I forced myself to focus on the caper I was supposed to be solving. It took force of will to direct my mind where Nan apparently wanted it.
I’d only just arrived in town. I wanted to be settling in, taking my time, helping my kids adjust, not jumping from one fire I had to put out to another.
“I hope Dixie hurries with that locator spell,” I commented. I’d already filled everyone in on what had gone down that morning. “That leprechaun could be anywhere by now.”
“At least the break gave you time for a nice lunch,” Aunt Jowelle said. “It’s no good to skip meals.”
I smiled warmly at her. “Especially not when the food is as good as yours. This salad is delicious.”
“It really is,” Everleigh said. “When Bessie invited me for lunch, I couldn’t pass up the chance at one of your meals.”
Aunt Jowelle preened like a male peacock—all without moving but a few inches. Even seated, she somehow grew taller. Her face glowed with the grin she was trying to swallow.
“Thank you,” Aunt Jowelle finally said. “I give it my all.”
“That you do, my dear,” Nan said. “And we’re all so grateful.”
Thankful mutterings circled the table. Aunt Jowelle looked like she could die right then and be happy for all eternity.
“How’s it going with the barrier spell?” I asked Nan and Everleigh. I really hadn’t wanted to ask. I hadn’t forgotten how Harlow told me I’d be needed to remove Delise Contonn’s magic from where it hooked into the barrier spell. I was hoping she was wrong. I’d already had enough of being the town’s quasi savior.
Nan frowned, and she rarely did that. “It’s not going great. Delise’s magic isn’t reacting well to being pulled free of the barrier spell.”
Everleigh, the strongest of the spell weavers, who was leading the efforts to untangle Delise’s magic from the oldest, and most important, spell in town, frowned too. I doubted she did that often either.
“Every time
I pull the thread of her spell away, it just slips free of my grasp and clings to the barrier spell. It’s like it’s bonded to it, which it shouldn’t be.”
“And that’s a big problem, I gather?” I said.
“A huge problem. We’re all getting tired out of trying the same things over and over. Scotty points Delise’s threads out to us, and Kama and I grab them and pull them away. They slip out of our hold like rubber bands snapping back into place. The other spell weavers have stopped trying. It’s just Kama and me now.”
“So what else are you going to try?”
“Who knows?” She speared a large mouthful of pasta and arugula. “We’ll keep at it until we figure it out or Irma brings Delise back. Then we can torture the solution out of that pink-loving punk.” Everleigh chewed, unaffected, like she really intended to torture the woman we all loved to hate.
No one else at the table protested the plan, especially not Nan, even though she was the one person at the table who could have forbidden it.
“When you finish solving your current case,” Nan told me, “I’d like you to come by the entrance to town and take a look. Maybe there’s something you can do to help.”
And I hadn’t even told her what Harlow said…
“The barrier spell is still stable though, right?” I asked. “Delise’s spell isn’t advancing any further, and the town’s protected, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Nan narrowed her eyes at an imaginary Delise, the skin around them crinkling. “But I don’t trust that woman for a second. The faster she’s out of the spell, the sooner she can be gone from our town. And then I’ll be able to sleep again. I’ve barely been sleeping, and a woman of my age needs her beauty rest.”
When I passed her room last night, I’d heard her snoring, loud as a chainsaw. Still, with how fierce she looked right then, I wasn’t about to tell her.
“You’re planning on exiling Delise?” Aunt Jowelle asked, stilling me. I hadn’t thought Nan was serious. No Havener had ever been exiled. Not in the long history of the town.
“I plan on doing whatever needs to be done to protect our town. I’m sure the rest of the council will agree with me.”
