"What happened to me?" I asked. "Where has my magic been all these years?" I could think of so many times that a little magic would've come in handy in my life. There were the trivial times like when Kelly Foster tried to bully me on the bus in eighth grade, but there were also the more serious times like the death of my husband, Karl. Maybe if I'd had magic, he never even would've been a truck driver. He never would've been on the highway in the middle of the night and fallen asleep. So many what ifs. My head was spinning.
"From what we can gather, your father performed a spell on you that suppressed your magic before you turned eleven,” my aunt explained. “He'd also cast a cloaking spell, so that no one here could track your location or his."
"Why didn't the spells break after he died?" I asked.
"Magic doesn't work that way," Linnea said. "The spell likely weakened, which is why when you had a moment of extreme stress, the magic was unleashed like a snake that had been coiled too long.”
"Yes," Aunt Hyacinth agreed. "I believe that my brother’s death weakened his cloaking spell and your near-death experience triggered your magic. It was a house of cards that came tumbling down all at once."
"And so what happened?" I asked. "Suddenly you got the bat signal in the sky that showed a map of New Jersey?"
"Cool," Florian said. "Are you a Batman fan? I prefer the darker stuff, not that Tim Burton monstrosity.”
Aunt Hyacinth gently tapped her fork on the side of her flute. "Florian, stay focused on the subject at hand, please."
Florian's head drooped. He seemed accustomed to such reprimands.
"Mom won't let me watch the Batman movies," Marley said. "She says they’re too violent."
Florian gave her a wink. "That's what older cousins are for."
I chose to ignore his comment. There seemed to be bigger fish to fry at the moment than whether my ten-year-old watched PG-13 movies.
"So why bring us here now?" I asked. "Marley and I have a life in New Jersey. What's the matter of urgency that brings us to Starry Hollow?"
Aunt Hyacinth appeared miffed by the question. "Why, you are a Rose, of course. You belong in Starry Hollow. I can't imagine that your life in New Jersey was very hospitable. My children said it was like extracting you from a war zone."
My cheeks reddened. "It was an apartment building in Maple Shade. It was hardly a war zone." I mean, it wasn't Newark.
"A man tried to kill you," Linnea said. "It isn't safe for you there anymore."
She had a point. Jimmy the Lighter was a member of the mob. He wasn't going to just give up and fuggedaboutit. He would pursue me until he exacted his revenge. I glanced across the table at Marley, who was busily gnawing on a chicken leg. I had to protect her at all costs.
"Where will we live here? I need a job. I don't have any money. I couldn't even afford to buy the clothes I'm wearing tonight."
“I will gladly help you get started here,” Aunt Hyacinth said. "We are family, after all. Family sticks together. It was a sentiment your father never learned, unfortunately. I hope you will do better."
In my experience, my father was all about family. It was just a smaller group. Me and him. With an older sister as formidable as Hyacinth, I could understand why he might have wanted to get out from under the family thumb.
“Ember and Marley are welcome to live with me," Aster said. "We have spare rooms."
"We all have spare rooms," Hyacinth said. "And you have two young children to contend with, Aster. I suspect Ember would be happier living on her own, as that is what she is accustomed to."
"I would prefer that," I said. "Mostly because I can't imagine anyone wanting to pick up after us. Marley and I are fairly sloppy."
Marley glared at me. "You’re the sloppy one, Mom. I'm the one always picking up after you."
Heat rose to the back of my neck. "Kids say the darndest things."
Once dinner was finished, the silver platters floated back into the kitchen and were promptly replaced by dessert. Marley's eyes grew the size of walnuts when she saw the chocolate cake that landed nearby her on the table.
"We call that the Devil’s Mud," Linnea said, noticing Marley's interest.
"I can see why," I said.
"And it tastes as moist as it looks," Florian said.
Marley and I cringed simultaneously.
"What's the matter?" Aster inquired. "Do you not like chocolate cake?"
"It isn't that," I said. "It's the word Florian used to describe it."
"What? Moist?"
My hands flew to my ears as did Marley's. We both groaned in unison.
"Such an odd reaction to a word," Aunt Hyacinth observed. "Whatever is wrong with moist?"
I squeezed my eyes closed. "Stop saying the word. I don't know why we dislike it, but we do. It just sounds gross."
"Stunting your magic seems to have also stunted your maturity," Aunt Hyacinth observed.
I opened my eyes and fixed them on her. "No, I think that has more to do with having a child when I was still a child."
Some people grew into motherhood out of necessity. Others, like me, bumbled along and hoped for the best. I was still waiting to enter adulthood.
"I think they should live in the guest cottage on the estate," Aster said. "That way we can look after them, but they’ll have their own space."
"That's an excellent idea," Linnea agreed.
Florian made a disgruntled noise. "I thought I was going to be able to move into the guest cottage."
Aunt Hyacinth fixed her intimidating gaze on him and I felt myself shrinking in my seat, even though it wasn't directed at me. "I've told you before, Florian. When you prove yourself to be a worthy Rose-Muldoon, then you will reap the benefits of such an association."
Florian slumped in his seat. "It isn't fair. They haven't had to prove anything. They haven't even proved their bloodline yet."
"You know as well as anyone that the proof is just a formality at this point." Aunt Hyacinth’s expression grew pinched. She was clearly ill at ease having this conversation at the table. “Besides, it’s only fitting that they should live there. After all, it was the place where your cousin was born.”
“Her father lost his claim on it when he left,” Florian complained.
Aunt Hyacinth glared at him. “Please don't make our guests feel unwelcome. We’ve waited a long time to find Yarrow…pardon me, Ember, and I'll not have them disappearing because you behaved like a selfish, spoiled brat."
Florian tossed his linen napkin onto the table and stomped out of the room like a selfish, spoiled brat. Aunt Hyacinth was tough, but she wasn't wrong.
“Tell me how my brother died, would you?” she asked. “It’s bothered me, not knowing.”
“You knew he died?” I queried.
She nodded. “I felt the change in the wind. It was eleven years ago, yes?”
“Yes.” A year before Marley was born. It still pained me that he never got to meet her.
As though reading my mind, Aunt Hyacinth glanced over at my daughter, who was happily eating her chocolate cake.
She smiled faintly. “Trust me, my dear, he would have approved.”
Chapter Five
"Welcome to Rose Cottage," Linnea said.
I stood in front of the charming home in complete silence. It could not possibly be a real house. A real house that I was born in, that my parents lived in, and that Marley and I would now occupy.
"I can see where it got its name," I said, noting the blooming rose bushes that gathered around the wrought iron fence. There were pink, red, and even some coral-colored roses in the mix.
"Don't be fooled,” Linnea said. "The cottage was named after our family. The flowers are just a nice touch."
Marley grabbed me by the hand. "Can we see the inside?"
"In a minute," I said. I was still drinking in the scene. It wasn’t every day I felt like I’d stepped into a fairytale. In my experience, disappointment waited on the other side of that pretty painted door.
&
nbsp; “It is perfect, isn’t it?” Marley said wistfully.
The brick house was symmetrical, with white windows and dormers above the top two windows. The arched door hovered somewhere between sage green and cream. The doorway protruded slightly and formed almost a triangle shape. The mismatched bricks in the front only enhanced its charm.
"Mom, there's a chimney," Marley said, pointing upward. "That means there’s a fireplace, right?"
"I guess so," I said. I knew zilch about managing a fireplace. I didn’t even like to use the Aim ’n Flame on a candle. For someone whose name meant ‘dying fire,’ I wasn't too keen on handling flames, and certainly not after my run-in with Jimmy the Lighter.
"Why don't I open the front door and you can explore?” Linnea said.
Marley could hardly stand still. She hopped beside me like a caffeinated rabbit. We followed Linnea inside and I stopped short, wiping the disbelief from my eyes. This was going to be our home. What had I done in life to deserve a home like this?
“Well, I can see why Florian is upset,” I said. “This place is fantastic.”
Linnea gave a dismissive flick of her fingers. “Don’t mind Florian. His place in the main house is three times the size of the cottage. He’s used to getting his own way is all, but he won’t hold it against you. He’s far too lazy to hold a grudge.”
That was good news, except for the lazy part. I didn’t want to alienate the first cousin I’d ever had. Or at least it should take longer than a day to annoy him.
“What are the floors made of?" I asked. There was no carpet, only attractive area rugs.
"This one is made of flagstone," Linnea replied. “You’ll be pleased to know it’s easy to clean and very robust. Perfect for a dog and a child.”
“And Mom,” Marley added. “She’s the one most likely to drop something.”
I examined the light gray flooring. "It's like something in a magazine.” Much better than the puke green carpet in our apartment.
"The rest of the cottage has wooden floors,” Linnea said. “The flagstone is only in the entryway and the kitchen."
Marley glanced upward. “Those wooden beams on the ceiling are really cool. I’ve never seen anything like them.”
Linnea smiled. "They’re very typical of cottages here."
"And look at all those built-in bookshelves," Marley said, her voice rising. She ran over to inspect the books.
"We can remove those books, if you like," Linnea said.
"No," Marley said sharply. "We keep the books, right?"
"It depends on what kind of books they are," I said. "They need to be appropriate for your age." Just because she could read at an adult level didn't mean she was allowed to read adult books. She was only ten, after all.
"Would you like to see the kitchen?" Linnea asked.
"I would," Marley said. "Mom’s not much of a cook. As long as there’s a microwave, though, we'll manage."
I didn't need my cousin to know all of my shortcomings in one day. She deserved time to be disappointed in me.
"Maybe it's because I didn't have the right kitchen," I said airily. "Maybe now I'll want to cook." I shot her an accusatory look. “But only if someone decides to expand her palate beyond the breaded food group.”
I followed Linnea into the kitchen and gasped. I’d never seen a more pleasant place to cook in my life. The cabinets were a pale blue with butcher-block countertops. The sink was enormous and deep with a curved silver faucet. A decorative heart adorned the wall above the sink.
“Is that made from straw?” I asked, gesturing to the heart.
Linnea wore an amused expression. “No, it’s made from a willow tree. Your mother made it, in fact. Mother says she was very crafty.”
“Nothing like me then.” The closest I came to crafts was a Popsicle stick with googly eyes.
I touched the heart and my own heart began to pound. My mother had made this with her own two hands. Amazing.
"This kitchen is way too nice,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to use it for cooking. I wouldn't want to mess it up."
"That's why cleaning is necessary," Linnea said.
Marley laughed. “Good luck with that.”
“Have you really never been in a kitchen like this before?” Linnea asked, amazed.
I shook my head. "Most people I know live in apartments. The kitchens I’ve been in definitely did not look like this."
"The house has been updated since your parents lived here," Linnea said. "But the original features like the floors and the beams have been here since the house was built." She surveyed the room. "There’s still a lot of good energy here. Can you feel it?"
"I don't know," I said. "I think it's a great house, but it's hard to forget that my mother died here."
Linnea’s expression clouded over. “Of course. I didn’t mean to imply…”
“It’s all good,” I interjected.
Prescott Peabody III ran into the room, sniffing excitedly. He seemed perfectly content to stay here.
“I think we have PP3’s seal of approval,” Marley said.
I glanced down nervously. “Why? Did he pee?”
Marley lifted him into her arms. “No, he’s wagging his tail. He seems happy.”
Phew.
"Once you’re settled," Linnea said, "I would love it if you came for dinner one night this week to meet my children."
Marley lit up. "You have kids?"
Linnea smoothed the hair on Marley's head. "Well, they're not as young as you. Not anymore. Bryn is fourteen and Hudson is thirteen.”
“Hudson?” I queried. "How did you get away with a name like that?" It sounded way too normal.
Linnea pursed her lips. "My ex-husband isn’t a wizard. Wyatt’s a werewolf and he insisted his son have a more masculine name."
A werewolf? I gulped.
"Oh, I didn't realize you were divorced,” I said, focusing on the part of that sentence I was more comfortable with. “I’m sorry."
"Well, I'm not sorry," she said. "Best day of my life was when I signed the papers."
"That's good then," I said.
"Don't worry," Linnea said. "You'll get the chance to meet him. And I'm sure he'll hit on you when you do. Why should his habits stop just because he isn't married to me anymore?”
“He’ll only hit on me once,” I said. “He’ll get the message loud and clear that I’m not interested.”
Marley nodded solemnly. “Mom can be very loud and very clear.”
Linnea gave me a tired smile. "The children adore him. He's a good dad and that's the main thing. Truth be told, the rest of it is white noise now.”
"So are you seeing anyone special now?" I asked.
She barked a short laugh. "In all my spare time? I'm a single mom running a business, while trying to keep the Rose-Muldoon name out of the mud. No, I have no time to see anyone special. Besides, Mother would have a fit if I dated without her blessing again. She never forgave me for Wyatt.”
“You didn’t have her blessing?” I queried.
“Stars and stones, that's an understatement," she said. "We eloped. I was pretty sure I’d be written out of the will at that point. Once the marriage started to go south, Mother came around and I was welcomed back into the family.”
"It sounds like it lasted a reasonable amount of time, though," I said. “The marriage.”
Linnea shrugged. “Twelve years. Probably five more years than the marriage deserved. I tried to keep going for the sake of the children, but eventually I realized that I wasn't doing them any favors. There was always underlying tension in the house. It became unbearable.”
"Well, we’d be happy to come for dinner any night you want us," I said. It would be nice for Marley to meet her cousins. Even though they were slightly older, they would be helpful in showing her the ropes in Starry Hollow.
“How about I check the schedule and let you know?”
"Sounds good," I said. "Where do you live?"
"I run an inn over
on Acacia Street,” she said. "The children and I live on the lower level. The rest of the house is devoted to the business."
"Do you do all the cooking there?" I asked.
“Not all,” Linnea said. "I do love to cook, though. I'd be happy to show you how to make a few things, if you’re interested."
"She is," Marley said quickly. Too quickly.
"I think it would be great if we both learned a few recipes," I said. Marley was certainly old enough and mature enough to learn her way around a kitchen.
"Wonderful," Linnea said. "The children will be so excited to meet you. They've never met anyone from New Jersey before."
"Tell them to count their blessings," I said.
Linnea closed the door behind her, leaving Marley and I alone to explore the rest of the cottage. I was still reeling from the fact that I was born here. That my mother died here.
"Mom, come see my room," Marley called.
I followed the sound of her voice to an upstairs bedroom. The walls were made of white shiplap and an old-fashioned brass bed stood in the middle of the room, covered in a colorful quilt. Marley sat on the bed, admiring the quilt.
"It’s so pretty,” Marley said. "I can't believe we get to live here."
I sat beside her on the bed. "I'll need to look for a job as soon as possible. There’s no way we can afford to live here, certainly not if I'm unemployed."
"But, Mom, weren't you listening?" Marley said. "This is technically your house. It belonged to your dad.”
I glanced around the room. “I feel a little guilty about Florian. He seems to think he’s entitled to it."
Marley waved a dismissive hand. “Like Linnea said, he gets to keep living in that enormous mansion. He'll be fine."
"Look at you, Miss Marley. To the manor born."
She stretched out on the bed and I moved beside her.
"Does this mean you might actually sleep in your own bed from now on?" I asked hopefully.
She kissed the tip of my nose. "I don't know. I haven't seen your room yet."
I laughed and let her snuggle against me. Despite all the beauty and charm in this house, there was no better feeling in the world than being loved by your kid.
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