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Spells of the Heart

Page 10

by Ellen Dugan


  “Yes.”

  “Gimme the details.”

  “Do I butt into your personal life, Ivy?”

  “Yes, you do, and I know you would again if you thought I needed it. Because that’s what families do.”

  I slung my arm around her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re staying tonight.”

  “Come on.” Ivy put her arm around my waist. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You smell like smoke.”

  I headed for the new downstairs bathroom and hit the showers. When I shut off the water I saw that Ivy had taken my clothes, and had left a couple of blue towels from the upstairs bath sitting out for me. I wrapped myself in one towel, dried my hair with the second and went upstairs.

  “Thanks for the fresh towels,” I said, walking back in my room.

  “No problem.” Ivy sat in the middle of my bed with Luna in her lap. “When we scrubbed up the main floor I noticed the pink downstairs towels smelled smoky so I had Lexie take them over to the manor to wash them.”

  I reached for a brush on my dresser. “Oh, well thanks.”

  “I put your clothes in a plastic bag,” Ivy said. “We can wash those and anything else tomorrow.”

  I sighed. “Yeah I’ll be doing a lot of laundry tomorrow.” I suddenly realized I’d lost an entire load of towels, and the sheets that had been in the washer. My stomach gave a nasty pitch, when I recalled the dresses I’d had air drying down in the basement. I’d never get the smell out of those. I’d loved those dresses, and they were ruined now. I tried to remind myself that the damage was minimal and I was lucky.

  Ivy sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”

  “What?” Alarmed, I dropped my brush. “Do you smell smoke again?”

  “No,” Ivy said, inhaling deeply. “I smell lilacs.”

  “Oh.” Mentally, I pried my fingernails out of the ceiling.

  “It’s like it’s coming in through the windows, but that can’t be right. It’s October.” Ivy frowned. “And lilacs only bloom in the spring. Not during the fall.”

  I picked up the brush. “That’s Irene’s calling card, remember? I usually catch the scent of lilacs when she’s floating around the bungalow.”

  Ivy pursed her lips. “Did you smell lilacs before the dryer caught fire this afternoon?”

  “No, but the wash machine went out of balance and was thudding pretty loudly. I got up and went to the basement to fix it and...” I trailed off as realization dawned.

  “And you were down there in time to keep the fire from getting too bad,” Ivy said. “Maybe that was Irene trying to warn you.”

  A little breeze had my bedroom curtains fluttering, and the fragrance of lilacs intensified. “Well if so, thanks, Aunt Irene,” I said.

  Ivy sniffed the air again. “It’s fading now.”

  “I guess she’s done for the day.” I shrugged and went back to brushing out my hair.

  “You’re taking the whole ghost-in-my-house thing like a champ,” Ivy said.

  I finished my hair. “Well I had plenty of practice with Grandma Rose at the manor, didn’t I?”

  “Grandma Rose showed herself to me last year, right around Samhain,” Ivy said. “Did I ever tell you that?”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “She sort of popped up after Nathan and I almost...”

  “Almost?” When Ivy grinned at me, I put it together. “Oh, almost. I see.”

  Ivy wiggled her eyebrows. “She startled me pretty good, embarrassed me a little. Made me wonder how long she’d been hanging around, and what all she had seen.”

  “Oh lord,” I muttered.

  “Yeah well, never a dull moment with the Bishop family.”

  “We’re an exciting bunch of Witches, alright,” I said. “Cursed grimoires, haunted dormitories, bewitched amethyst brooches, family ghosts, and basement fires.”

  “Hey, in all the excitement, I forgot to tell you. I got a phone call from Hannah yesterday,” Ivy said, speaking of Nathan’s sister. “She and Henry are engaged.”

  “Good for her.” I grabbed a night shirt and some underwear and got ready for bed while I listened to Ivy chatter happily about the couple and their engagement.

  “Henry gave her an emerald ring,” Ivy said, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. “Here, check this out. She sent me a picture.”

  I took the phone and couldn’t help but smile at the picture on Ivy’s phone. The happy couple stood embracing. Hannah’s left hand rested on Henry’s chest, the ring in plain view. Tucked under the man’s arm, a blonde little boy grinned up at his mother.

  “Nice ring,” I said, admiring the deep green oval stone surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds. “I’ve always liked colored stones.”

  Ivy took back the phone and grinned down at the picture. “Eli is so happy. Nathan’s nephew is a great little kid.”

  “He’s a cutie,” I agreed and gathered up the towels, and hung them up on hooks behind the bathroom door.

  “I’ve been trying to talk them into coming out here for a visit, Thanksgiving maybe,” Ivy said as I came back in.

  “That’d be nice. I’d like to meet Hannah and Eli,” I said, stifling a yawn. “Oh, and Henry too.”

  “You’d like them.” She got up and set Luna aside. Neatly, Ivy began to fold back the quilt on the bed. “Can I borrow a nightshirt?”

  “Sure,” I said, shifting towards the dresser. “Let me get you one.” I took a step, tripped on the rug and caught myself.

  “Autumn.” Ivy frowned at me. “Go to bed, I can find what I need.” She steered me towards my bed, gave me a nudge. “Your mother should have named you Grace.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “I suppose my father had a hand in my name, it’s subtly witchy, naming me after the season I was born in.” I yawned and dropped my phone on the area rug.

  “Give me that!” Ivy sighed, bent over and scooped up the phone. “Get in bed before you hurt yourself.”

  “Are you gonna tuck me in, too?” I couldn’t resist snarking as I climbed in.

  “I might if it will keep you from crashing into something else.”

  Ivy walked over to my dresser and began rooting around. While I took off my glasses and plugged my phone in to re-charge, she made herself at home. She stripped down, tossed her clothes towards the bench at the foot of the bed, and pulled an oversized t-shirt on. The next thing I knew the overhead lights went out and my cousin was climbing in bed, snuggling right up beside me.

  “It’s like old times,” she giggled. “Roomie.”

  I chuckled, remembering when she’d bunked with me at the manor for a few months. I tried to ease over a bit, but that only made her cuddle up closer. “You never did comprehend the concept of personal space.”

  “Aw, don’t be such a hard ass.” Ivy shivered. “It’s starting to get a little chilly.”

  “Maybe I’m not used to having someone right up against me when I’m trying to go to sleep,” I groused.

  “Don’t you cuddle with Duncan?” Ivy asked. “Nathan and I cuddle together afterwards.”

  I stared at the darkened ceiling, and gave up. “We haven’t had much opportunity for cuddling afterwards.”

  “Oh, so you’re a couple of wild animals, eh?” Ivy waited a beat. “So, first time back together...Did you tear each other’s clothes off?”

  Damned intuitives. I was suddenly very grateful that the room was dark, because I was sure I was blushing. “I am not discussing the details of my sex life with you, Ivy.”

  “Why?” Ivy wanted to know. “So was Duncan all romantic, tender and slow, or did he yank your hair back and ravage you like a lusty pirate?”

  Despite myself I burst out laughing. “You did not just say, ‘ravage you like a lusty pirate’.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a good romp in the boudoir,” Ivy insisted.

  “By the goddess.” I glanced over at her. “I didn’t know you were a bodice-ripper-romance-novel fan, Ivy.”

  “Sure.” Ivy grinned, I could see her face in the
dark. “Those books are hot.”

  I shut my eyes. “I’m way too tired for this conversation.”

  “You can borrow some of my romance novels if you like. Maybe they will inspire you.” Ivy sounded completely serious.

  “Ah, no,” I said. “I’m fine, thanks.” I tried not to laugh again. It would only encourage her.

  Ivy patted my thigh. “Get some sleep.” She rolled over away from me and Luna jumped up on the bed. The calico climbed up Ivy’s side and settled on her hip.

  “Night, Shorty,” I said.

  “I’m not short,” Ivy insisted.

  I yawned and answered as I always did. “You’re shorter than me.”

  ***

  Monday morning dawned, and I woke to find Ivy had curled up in a little ball on her side of the bed with the sheet up over her head. Luna was wedged between the two of us, and there was a definite nip of fall coming in through the open windows. I shivered and reached for the blankets at the foot of the bed, dragging a quilt up over us all.

  Beside me on the night stand, my phone chimed. I reached out, snagged it, and pulled the phone under the covers with me.

  It was a text from Duncan: Morning. I have a cleaning crew scheduled to arrive at 8:30 am.

  I squinted at the screen and re-read the message. I sent back: That was fast.

  He responded quickly: See you soon.

  I checked the time. It was 7:32. I couldn’t believe I’d slept so long. I hadn’t slept past 5:30 in years. I scrolled through my contacts, and sent a quick text to Professor Meyer, informing him I was taking a personal day.

  Ivy stirred beside me. “Are you really sending texts at zero dark thirty?” Her voice was muffled from under the covers.

  “It’s after seven thirty,” I said. “The sun is up.”

  “God, I always hated the fact that you woke up so freaking early.”

  “The clean-up crew will be here in less than an hour,” I warned her.

  Ivy’s response was a muffled groan.

  “Don’t you have classes today?”

  “Not till after eleven,” Ivy said, still under the covers. “Because I’m allergic to mornings.”

  “Like the good little vampire you are.” I sat up and reached for my glasses.

  “Now who’s using romance novel metaphors?”

  I rolled out of bed, saw her burrowed under the blankets and couldn’t resist teasing her. “You don’t call Nathan Vlad in moments of passion do you?”

  Ivy pulled the covers down to her chin. “Only if he calls me Mina,” she said, deadpan. “And our safety word, is garlic.”

  I burst out laughing, and Ivy pulled the covers back up over her head. I went downstairs to the kitchen to make some tea, grinning the whole way.

  Ivy made the supreme sacrifice of gracing me with her presence a short time later. She shuffled down to the kitchen in her jeans and t-shirt from yesterday. “Caffeine,” she muttered with her eyes half closed. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

  Knowing her personal preference for soda in the morning, I set down my bowl of cereal and went to the fridge to hand her a chilled can. “Do you want me to drop you back on campus?” I asked when she came up from chugging.

  “Nathan said he’d pick me up at 8:30.” Ivy took another swig. “That way I can hit the showers and change before class.” She burped, loud and long.

  “You’re welcome to take a shower here.” I dug back into my cereal as Luna chomped on her kibble.

  Ivy snapped her head around. “I can use the new, fancy downstairs shower?”

  “Sure. There’s hair products and a hair dryer in the pink cabinet.”

  “I’ll go grab some towels from the upstairs bathroom.” Ivy set her soft drink down and dashed back to the second floor.

  I chuckled at seeing her move so quickly, especially in the morning. She zipped by me again and the untouched bathroom door shut behind her. I ate my breakfast and went back upstairs to get dressed before the clean-up crew arrived.

  An hour later and Ivy was ready for the day after having borrowed a t-shirt of mine and helping herself to some of my cosmetics. While I worked on a second cup of tea, she sat at the kitchen table, texting Nathan.

  “Would you like some cereal or something?” I asked her.

  “No thanks,” she said. “Nathan is taking me out to breakfast.”

  “See? There are benefits to getting up early.”

  Ivy rolled her eyes and kept texting.

  A knock on the kitchen door had us both turning. Duncan stood there smiling at me through the glass.

  “Good morning—” I began, opening the door. I never had the chance to say anything else, because he stepped over the threshold and pulled me into his arms for a thorough kiss.

  For a few moments I forgot about everything else, then the sound of clapping had us breaking apart.

  “Now that’s how you start the morning!” Ivy cheered, making me chuckle.

  “Hey, Shorty.” Duncan grinned at her.

  Ivy beamed at us. “Hey yourself.”

  Duncan tipped my chin up to study my face. “Was everything quiet last night?”

  I frowned. “Why wouldn’t it have been?”

  “I wondered if Irene had put in an appearance,” Duncan said.

  “We smelled lilacs last night,” I said. “But that was it.”

  “Yeah,” Ivy piped up. “I think maybe the washing machine going out of balance was caused by Irene—as a way to get Autumn down to the basement in time to see that the dryer was catching fire.”

  “Interesting theory.” Duncan nodded to Ivy.

  “I’ll ask Nathan about it,” Ivy decided. “He’s the expert on ghosts.”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” I said.

  Ivy narrowed her eyes. “Come to think of it, he did mention to me that he thought you had more of an intelligent haunt than a residual one.”

  “Intelligent haunt?” Duncan shifted to stand beside me. “Do you mean interactive?”

  “Yeah,” Ivy said. “He’ll probably want to interview you both. Get your first hand experiences.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I suppose I should bring in an expert, especially considering everything that’s been going on around here.”

  Ivy perked up. “You’re holding something back.” She looked from me and back to Duncan. “Something about chocolate? Ooh, and my intuition tells me that it’s important.”

  “It’s personal, Ivy,” I said, trying to stall.

  Thankfully there was a knock on the front door. “Come in, Nathan,” I called.

  “Good morning,” Nathan said as he came into the kitchen. He’d always been serious and intense, but now that he and Ivy were a couple, his expression was often softer.

  Ivy bounced up. “I’ll talk to him, and see how soon we can come over.”

  Nathan’s horizontal brows drew together. “What are you plotting, Ivy?”

  Ivy reached up and kissed Nathan. “A little paranormal investigation here at the bungalow,” she explained.

  “I do have some theories on that,” Nathan said. “Let me check my schedule. I’ll call you later and we can set something up.”

  I smiled at him. “Thanks Nathan.”

  After Nathan and Ivy left to go out for breakfast, I made a cup of coffee for Duncan. The sun was shining and Luna sat in the open window watching the birds in the garden through the screen.

  “How did things go with Ivy, last night?” he wanted to know.

  “Fine,” I said, handing him his coffee. “But she did ask me what kind of lover you were. Style wise.”

  Duncan paused in mid sip. “She did?” His eyes grew wide.

  I tucked my tongue in my cheek. “Yeah, she wanted to know if you were all tender and slow. Or if you yanked my hair back and ravaged me like a lusty pirate.”

  Duncan choked on his coffee and then roared with laughter.

  I grinned at him. “Seems my cousin has a predilection for romance novels.”

  “I don’t
know whether I’m complimented or embarrassed that she asked.”

  “It’s Ivy,” I reminded him. “She’s incorrigible.”

  Duncan set his mug aside and caged me in at the counter with his arms. “A lusty pirate, eh?” he asked, leaning in close.

  “Aye, Captain,” I said, playfully fluttering my lashes at him.

  “I’m putting ‘ravishing you like a lusty pirate’, on my to-do list.” Duncan said in a tone that had my insides quaking.

  “She also offered to let me borrow her romance novels in case I needed some more inspiration.”

  “I’ve always liked that girl,” Duncan decided, and slowly reached for the buttons on my denim shirt. He unbuttoned them one by one, his eyes never leaving mine. “I want you, Autumn.”

  “I want you too,” I said, leaning forward to kiss him. “I missed you last night.”

  Duncan pushed my shirt aside and ran his hands over me. “Think we have enough time before the cleaning crew gets here? I could start working on that to-do list.”

  I was on the verge of suggesting we run upstairs when I got a flash in my mind of the cleaning crew pulling up outside. “Time just ran out,” I said, pulling back from him and buttoning my shirt.

  Duncan groaned. “Figures.”

  ***

  The morning was spent answering texts and concerned phone calls from my friends, and trying to keep Luna out of the way as the cleaning crew got to work. They used some sort of upholstery cleaner on the new sectional sofa, and whatever they used on the floors and walls in the basement helped enormously. My insurance agent came by, took his own photos, and informed me that since the washer and dryer had been second-hand and old, they wouldn’t be covering the cost of replacements.

  What he estimated would actually be covered wasn’t much more than the cost of the cleaning crew. Later that afternoon I was sitting on the front porch steps, holding the insurance paperwork, the bills from the crew, and wondering how in the sweet hell I would ever be able to afford the repairs—let alone the cost of purchasing a new washer and dryer.

  “Hey.” Duncan came out and sat beside me.

  “Remind me why it’s not acceptable to hex the insurance adjuster.”

 

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