Giving Up the Ghost

by Magenta Wilde

  “That’s good to hear.”

  I felt warmed by the statement.

  He turned to look at the poppy I had set on my counter. “Is that thing getting more red as we speak?” He leaned down to look at it more closely. “It’s like it’s getting fresher right in front of me.”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t ready to explain the magic. “I just stuck it in water not that long ago. It’s probably just perking up.”

  “But it’s happening so fast. In like, two minutes it went from looking days old to freshly plucked.”

  “It was probably really thirsty.” That makes two of us, I thought.

  He gave me a dubious look. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Is that all, or just all you’re going to cop to?” he asked.

  “That’s all.” I opted to change the subject. “Is there a reason you’re asking about Scott and me,” I said, giving him what I hoped was an encouraging and flirty smile.

  He looked like he was about to say something when the door opened and a few young women walked in. They were college age and, if I had to guess, they were shirking their studies and exploring the town a bit. One girl, tall and athletic with wavy brunette hair and flashing amber eyes, noticed Roger, smiled and started batting her lashes at him. She was clearly the leader of the group and she radiated confidence. Roger nodded politely at her.

  “I’ll go now,” Roger said, turning to me. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Wait, you’re not leaving already,” the brunette asked.

  “Yes. I need to get back to work.” He left, casting one last glance in the window as he walked up the street.

  “He’s hot,” the girl said, her eyes greedily taking him in as she stepped over to the window to watch him as he walked away. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  I wanted to say yes, to throw her off the trail. Instead I shook my head. “No.”

  “Shar,” one of her friends, said, giggling. “You should go give him your number.”

  “Don’t bother,” I muttered. All eyes turned to me. “He’s my hairdresser.”

  “Oh, come on,” Shar said. “He doesn’t give off that vibe.”

  “Not all do,” I said, twirling a lock of my hair around my fingers. “But I don’t get this shade of red on my own, ladies.”

  “Really?” One of Shar’s friends, a petite strawberry blonde, looked disappointed.

  “Trust me, girls, he rides the ‘D’ train, if you know what I mean.” I made a jerking gesture with my fist. “All men. Men all the time.”

  Their expressions shifted from hopeful to hopeless. Good. They fell for it.

  Inwardly I smiled. Yeah, I’m petty, but they’re too young for him. And I saw him first.

  Plus, when my eyes landed on the flower, it was as bright and fresh as it could be.

  Excellent.

  17

  The next morning I rose earlier than normal to take my car to the shop. I was alternately grumpy thinking about those college girls salivating over Roger – especially that really confident one – but also eager to see him again.

  When I arrived he was at the desk, freshly scrubbed and smiling at me.

  “I’ll drive you to your store,” he said, as he took my keys.

  I demurred, saying I’d be fine walking, but he insisted since rain was imminent.

  “Do you mind if we stop at Emily’s Eatery before I drop you off,” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I’m always happy to go there. If we do, I’ll get a latte.”

  A few minutes later Roger parked in front of Emily’s and we went in together.

  It was clear Roger frequented her coffee shop and cafe quite often.

  “Oh my stars, look at the two of you together,” she smiled. “This pairing never crossed my mind, but now that I see you two walking in together, I see it fits.”

  I raised my eyebrows in surprise. That was unexpected. And not altogether unwelcome, if I had to be honest.

  I waited to see if Roger would correct her, but he didn’t. He simply grinned and said “Hi Emily. What flavor am I today?”

  She turned her glittering blue eyes away from Roger and fixated them on me for a moment, tongue in cheek as she pondered. “It’s ginger. Though it’s always been anything that pairs well with ginger for you, but today in particular it’s ginger. I have a really spicy chai for fall. I think it’d be perfect for you.”

  “I can’t argue with that. Make me a large to go.”

  I figured I’d play along, too. I leaned against the counter and batted my eyelashes at my friend. “And what about me, Em? What flavor am I today?”

  “Usually you’re all about the lemon and anything almond. But today you’re all about white chocolate. And mint.”

  The combination hadn’t even occurred to me, but the moment she offered it, it was what I wanted.

  “I was actually just thinking of my usual latte,” I said. “But now that you bring it up, white chocolate and mint does sound divine this morning.”

  “So, how are the two of you together? What’s the story here?” she said as she started making our drinks.

  I explained that Roger was fixing my car this morning and he was driving me to work. This was just a pit stop.

  “That’s not all it is, though – or all it will be,” she assured me as she handed us our drinks. “I’m not wrong on these things.”

  I took a sip of my latte and the white chocolate felt warmly familiar, like the discovery of true love, while the mint felt new and invigorating, like intense infatuation. A perfect combination.

  Roger shrugged at what she said and a sleepy smile claimed his face. I felt a shiver of delight at his expression. Sipping Emily’s drink, I could see a fog lifting and felt like she was speaking gospel truth.

  As we paid and started to leave, I whispered to Emily, “I know what my drink said, but what about his?”

  She smiled knowingly. “Let’s just say he could use a little boldness to shake out the old and bring on the new.”

  “What about his …” I struggled for the right word.

  “Baggage?” Emily supplied.

  That was a way to put it. I nodded.

  She put her hand on my arm as I was turning to go, and she flicked her gaze in Roger’s direction. “Pumpkin.”

  Pumpkin? It was good for divination and banishment, among other uses. I could see where she was coming from.

  I said okay and began to walk away when she pulled me back. She scanned me over, her eyes intense.

  “Do you have any tea with mallow in it?”

  I told her I had.

  “Brew yourself a big mug of it and sip on it all day.”

  “Is that all?” I asked.

  “Keep a few sprigs of eucalyptus around you, too. And watch out for teenage impatience,” she added.

  I raised my eyebrows at her statement in a questioning way, and she waved me off. “You could experience a couple hiccups, but I think you’ll be fine. You’re on the right path. You know where to find me if you need me.”

  I did indeed. I also knew I’d have nothing to do with that eucalyptus advice. I never liked the smell of it.

  “And Poppy, I know you hate eucalyptus,” Emily added. “But trust me. It’ll be a friend to you.”

  I waved goodbye and exited her café. As I turned I saw my outline in the shop window, and spotted a small feminine shape standing a few feet to my right. The way the light was reflecting I couldn’t make out who it was, so I turned to see who was standing next to me.

  No one was there.

  I looked back up to the shop window and my reflection stood solo. A shadowy form darted past the mirror image, and my face disappeared even though the rest of me remained intact.

  I felt a tap at my shoulder, expecting it to be the girl I had seen, but it was Roger.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  I glanced back at the window and caught another flash of movement. This time it was clearer. A shadow float
ed across the reflective surface and stepped into my silhouette, merging with it. I looked behind me and saw no one. I’d seen ghosts and unexplained shapes and shades before, but they’d never rattled me. Seeing this caused dread to race up my spine.

  “Are you okay?” Roger asked. “You look really pale. Do you need me to take you home?”

  I shook my head. “No. I blanked out for a second. I just haven’t had enough coffee today.” I shook off the distraction and climbed into his truck.

  I purposely pushed out the memory of what I thought I saw on the café window. Seeing Emily and spending a bit of time – however uneventful it was – with Roger put me in a good mood, and I wanted to savor that.

  I put out some new candles and set up a sign for upcoming events. Not long after that two young women walked in.

  Both were blonde. They looked enough alike that I was certain they were sisters. The one with the lighter hair was extremely top heavy – and I would have guessed, extremely popular with the boys as a result – and exuded ample confidence. Her eyes were a jarring shade of blue so I suspected she wore contact lenses to intensify her eye color. It worked, but it had an uncanny valley effect. She was slightly snub-nosed, as was the other girl.

  The second girl was not beautiful, but she would pass for pretty, especially if she had more confidence. Her insecurity gave her a mousy, dreary air. She wasn’t as curvy and her hair was slightly brassy, probably a box dye job done on hair too dark for at-home blonding. She would look less wan with cool-toned brown hair, I thought. Her makeup was heavy in attempt to look more sophisticated, but it wore her more than she wore it. Both appeared to be barely out of their teens.

  “I’m only in town for a few days, Brittany. I thought you said we were going to spend all our time together,” the mousier one sulked. “You know, do some sisterly bonding.”

  “I really want to go out with this guy, Heather, and I don’t know why you can’t ever amuse yourself for a night.”

  After more of Heather’s whining, Brittany extricated herself from the other’s orbit. She moved away to a far corner of the store and made a phone call. Heather glanced around my shop, but continued to dart her eyes in Brittany’s direction.

  Soon she returned. “Good news. I asked him if he could find a date for you.”

  Heather waited. “And?”

  “And he said he’ll get someone to come along. If he can’t get a friend, he said he’ll get his brother. Are you happy now?”

  Heather hopped up and down and clapped her hands. “Awesome! Do you think he’ll like me?” Her eyes were hopeful.

  “I don’t know, Heather,” Brittany snapped. “But you have a date Thursday night, so stop your whining.”

  “I just hope he’ll like me,” Heather murmured. “I always get fixed up with fat guys or pimply guys. Or if I get a shot at a cute one they never like me.”

  I felt a bit of pity for the girl. One day if she was lucky she’d meet someone who fit with her, but when that would happen, who knew? I also knew I was better looking than she was – yes, I suppose I do take after my mother in more ways than I sometimes care to admit – and I can’t brag about my luck.

  “Do you sell love potions here?” Heather asked me, her eyes showing the first true sign of interest in my wares since walking in.

  “Sort of.” I pointed her in the direction of the potions I sold.

  “Will one make someone fall madly in love with me?”

  I shook my head. “They’re not meant to force someone to feel something against their will.”

  Clearly it wasn’t what the girl wanted to hear. “I really want something that will make someone fall hopelessly in love with me.”

  “I’m sorry. These mixtures don’t work that way.”

  “Then why are you selling them?” Heather asked.

  “Because they do work in that they can make someone feel more romantic or more receptive to love, if the potential is there,” I explained.

  “Do I take it, or do I slip it to this guy?” Heather asked.

  “You take it,” I said. “It’s like vitamin C. Instead of fortifying your immune system, this will enhance your chances at love, but it won’t make love bloom out of thin air.”

  Heather sniffed. “That’s not really a good selling point.”

  I shrugged. “Well, I could try and sell it to you by promising that you’ll be married within a year. But I don’t work that way.”

  “You mean if I use this I’ll find a husband?”

  She clearly was only hearing what she wanted to hear.

  I shook my head. “I’m not guaranteeing anything of the sort. At best it will give you more confidence.” And get you out of Brittany’s shadow, I thought.

  Her sister snickered at my comment.

  Heather looked at the bottle, her face cloudy with conflict. “Why even bother to sell this crap, then, if it’s not going to land me a guy?” she groused.

  Why indeed, I wondered.

  “Oh, just buy it,” Brittany snapped. “If it’ll make you feel better, go for it.” She turned to me. “You don’t have any spells that’ll make her shut her trap, do you?”

  Heather gave her sister a spiteful glance. “If I take it before my date on Thursday, what will happen?”

  “If it’s something that’s meant to be, the road will be clear for true love,” I told her.

  “And what if it isn’t,” Heather pressed.

  “Then you’ll have a massive case of blue balls,” Brittany said.

  Heather turned to me. “That’s not what’ll happen, is it?”

  I shook my head, chuckling at Brittany’s comment. “No, not at all.”

  “Just buy it already, Heather. I want to go next door and buy some fudge.”

  Mom made her way to my shop a short while later. I made us coffee and we stood around talking for a while.

  “Is your car getting repaired? Or did you have breakfast with that mechanic this morning? I saw him drop you off earlier.”

  “My car’s in the shop. He drove me here as a courtesy.”

  “You look happy. Happier than if you were simply shelling out big bucks for a new muffler.”

  She reached out and touched the poppy on the counter. “This is really thriving. It’s almost like it’s been soaked in blood, it’s so red and juicy looking.”

  I smiled.

  “This is no ordinary flower, is it? What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do much of anything,” I explained. “I snapped the stem off one of the bunch I have at home, and gave that flower to Roger. I returned the broken stalk to the vase, and brought one of the others from the batch here, so I could, um, watch their progress.”

  “Ah. So if he keeps the flower that means he’s still thinking of you and it stays alive. It’s really vivid, so he’s thinking of you quite affectionately, I presume. Clever magic. Has it thrived like that since you gave him the flower?”

  “Not quite. It looked a little withered after he thought Scott and I had gotten it on, but it recovered after I told him the romantic history Scott and I shared was just that, history.”

  “It’s still clever. It’s simple and elegant. I like it.”

  “I’d have thought you’d go more for flash.”

  “Usually I do, but in this case I think this is a good approach.”

  Not long after the lunch rush my car was ready. Roger offered to come get me and then asked if I’d like to go have lunch with him. Vanessa was due in my shop shortly, so I agreed to it.

  He arrived at my shop and we made our way to Padre’s. He was hungry for Mexican and I couldn’t argue. The place was both cozy, with its décor dominated by dark woods and deep reds, and festive with its colorful paper garlands strung throughout the eatery and bar. Plus, it had great food.

  We sat down and placed our orders, sharing a plate of chips and salsa while we waited for our food to arrive.

  “Is that really just a poppy on your shop counter there, or is there more to it?” he asked.
>
  “Why do you think there’s something more?”

  “Because you gave me that one, which I took home, by the way, and set in a small glass.”

  “That’s nice of you, to be so kind to that cut flower, giving it sustenance and all.”

  “That’s not an answer,” he pressed.

  “Why are you so curious?” How much I’d share depended on how much he’d share, I’d decided.

  “When I went home the night you gave it to me, I was annoyed when Scott arrived so late at your house. At first I tossed the flower into the garbage, and as soon as I did, it’s almost like all the juice was sucked out if it.”

  “The juice? Sucked out?”

  “Yeah. It was like it just about died as soon as it landed in the garbage. I felt bad, like I’d acted too hastily, and pulled it out of the trash. As I put it into a glass of water I was trying to tell myself that I didn’t know the whole story between you and Scott, and also when I saw you two talking at the Dive, I didn’t sense or suspect any romantic spark there. When I thought those things, the flower started coming back to life.”

  “That’s fascinating,” I said, as I munched on a tortilla chip.

  “Fascinating? That’s all you’re going to say?”

  I shrugged. “It was probably thirsty. You gave it some tender loving care and it bounced back.”

  He gave me a dubious look. “I know what I’m saying sounds crazy, but what I saw was crazier still. You know how in time-lapse photography, you’ll see something start from a bud and in seconds it grows to a full-blown flower?”

  I nodded.

  “This was like that. The flower was nearly dead. Then when I put it in the vase, it rapidly came back to life, within seconds. Did you do that? Did you do something … magical?”

  “Do you believe it was magic?”

  “I’m not sure. But I suspect it was. I’ve heard that you and your mother can do things. Things that are both strange and hard to explain.”

  “Is that so bad? If it was magic?” He might have been fascinated or perplexed by what he saw, but I still wasn’t sure if he was worried something nefarious was at play.