by Candace Colt
Ramona released the chair a too fast, and when it hit bottom, Abby bounced.
“Whoops. You all right?” Ramona asked.
Abby ran her tongue over her teeth to be sure they were still intact. Having someone else wash her hair was one of Abby’s favorite indulgences. After shampooing, Ramona applied conditioner.
“I usually give my clients a scalp massage while this product does its thing. You okay with that?” Ramona asked.
More than okay. The stylist’s fingers worked wonders on Abby’s scalp, and accompanied by the clicking of the woman’s earrings, she nearly fell asleep. Since Ramona was the talkative type, all Abby had to do was interject an ‘uh-huh’ or ‘really’ or ‘wow’ at appropriate times.
“So, who’s your date for the Ball?” Ramona’s southern accent drew the word ‘ball’ into ‘bawwel.’ Nonetheless, it brought Abby right out of her relaxed state, since the woman had said it loudly enough to turn every head in the salon in her direction.
Abby’s face burned. “Not going,” she said in a low tone.
“Whaaat? A pretty thing like you? You can’t mean it.”
She did mean it. Once back in the stylist’s chair, Abby steered the discussion away from the ‘bawwel.’ But no matter what, the conversation kept coming back to the power failure yesterday, or how nice Theo’s wedding had been, or how to decorate Valentine’s Day cupcakes. Would this ever end?
Apparently not. Abby glanced at the mirror to the front door as someone delivered a single red rose to one of the other clients. The blushing customer explained that since the first day of February, her boyfriend had sent her one red rose about the same time each day. She had a hunch he was going to propose to her at the Valentine’s Day Ball.
Gack. Abby didn’t want to think about hearts and flowers. While Ramona was distracted, Abby glanced at the array of styling tools on Ramona’s workstation. How did anyone know which one did what?
Her gaze locked on the scissors. This could not be. She lifted the wet locks hanging over her eyes, and her blood pooled at her feet. Tied in one finger hole in each pair was a tiny ribbon. Exactly like the pair Scarlett had brought home.
“Isn’t that guy of hers a sweetie,” Ramona said as she spritzed water on Abby’s hair.
A cold sweat bloomed across Abby’s nose. Should she mention the scissors? If Scarlett had taken them from the salon, and God knows how or when and dragged them across town to the apartment, they’d be scratched and dull.
Ramona separated sections of Abby’s hair and started trimming. The clip-clip-clip sound around her head heightened Abby’s guilt, but she decided it was best not to tell Ramona about the stolen scissors.
“Guess who drops in from time to time?” Ramona asked.
Abby had an inkling but pretended otherwise. “Don’t know.”
“Your cousin’s new cat. She’s such a friendly thing. She makes the rounds to each of us, then poof she’s gone. I forgot her name.”
Abby kept her head down and drew her hands into a tight fist under the cape.
“It’s Scarlett,” she said.
Beau’s bookkeeper had called and asked to meet with him. When he got to her office, he didn’t even make it through the front door, before she met him, holding the box he’d left with her two days ago.
“I can’t make heads or tails of this mess.” The icy tone of the woman’s voice and how she thrust the box in his direction were fitting clues that she was going to quit on him, too. They all did.
“I told you before I agreed to take you as a client, you had to meet me half-way. Some of these bills are months old. I found customer checks that had never been cashed and didn’t match any invoices. Straightening this out and setting up your accounts would be a full-time job even if I had magical abilities, which I do not. I just can’t do it. Sorry.”
With the box beside him on the car seat, Beau wondered why he’d left the secure job as a lineman to take on self-employment.
He ticked down the list. Independence. Doing what he loved. Most of all, helping people. If he could just bump up his clientele base, he might be able to hire someone to help out since his skill set wasn’t in the office.
It was only eleven, and his next job wasn’t until two. Starving and not in the mood to fix a can of chef-what’s-his-name spaghetti again, he had enough cash for a bite at Cove Cat Café. He hoped Luna had fresh croissants left. One of those with their homemade chicken salad was a meal.
Inside the Café, he waited in the short line at the counter, all the time keeping an eye on the last croissant left in the case. At least something was on his side today. He paid for his meal and a tall iced coffee and started the hunt for a free table.
Only one seat left, but he would have to share a table. Seated with her back to him was the occupant: Abby Blessing. This was either a great opportunity or an epic disaster, depending on how she’d take to him asking to share her table after he’d pulled his asshat act with her last night. He’d been so tired he couldn’t think straight but had no right to treat her so cold.
Rather than stand in the middle of the room all day, he decided it was worth the risk.
“May I?” he asked as he stood beside her. Yay for him, two words without a stammer. Until she faced him, he hadn’t realized she was wearing sunglasses. Odd inside.
“Oh, hi.” She motioned for him to take the other chair. In her hand was a rolled-up paper.
“Expecting an—yone?” He hoped not.
She shook her head. “I stopped for coffee before I meet with—.” She hesitated. “I mean before my appointment. I just got my hair done. You like the cut?”
Unless a woman wore a Mohawk or dyed her hair in rainbow colors, he didn’t pay a lot of attention to a hairstyle. A question about ‘liking’ always put him in an awkward place. If he said yes, and she hated it, that would be bad. If he said no, and she loved it, that would be worse. He opted for the middle of the road approach.
“You went n—ext door to Claws-N-Coifs?” Safe enough, he figured, since it was the only salon in town.
“I had an appointment with Ramona. She’s great,” Abby said, still wearing her sunglasses. “How’s your day going?”
Beau took a big bite of his croissant. She didn’t want to know.
She leaned closer and looked for anyone who might overhear. “I have to tell you something.”
The mouthful he’d chewed to a pulp refused to go down. What could it be this time?
“Remember those scissors I caught Scarlett with? She stole them from Ramona,” Abby said.
Beau finally swallowed and then held back a burp. “How do you k—now?”
“The ribbon. Every pair of Ramona’s scissors has the same exact ribbon. Just like the pair Scarlett stole. What am I supposed to do?”
He eyed the remaining half of his croissant. Abby was pretty upset. Should he keep eating in front of her? Or take it to go?
Abby pulled off her glasses and handed Beau the rolled paper. “And look what I found on the bulletin board in here!”
He took a sip of his coffee drink and unfurled the small paper. At the rate things were going, he wouldn’t be surprised if this were a wanted poster with a picture of Scarlett.
Instead, it was a full-color photo of a stuffed bear with a headline that read: LOST IN WILSHIRE PARK. Below the picture were the words BROKENHEARTED CHILD’s FAVORITE TOY. IF FOUND CALL. The phone number was on small, torn strips at the bottom.
Abby’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“This is just too much. I can’t cope.” She took the poster and waved it at Beau. “Please tell me what kind of deal you made with Scarlett. She has to stop.”
Chapter Fifteen
“I hope you didn’t wait long.” Luna Halpern stood next to Beau and Abby’s table. Sunlight streaming through the window highlighted the woman’s beautiful blue braids.
“Can we meet at my house? I rode my bike, but if you give me a head start, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Luna added.
/> Abby dreaded passing any more Valentine’s Day window decorations. “Is it far? I walked.”
“I can g—ive you a ride,” Beau said.
Abby sliced her glance between the two as she scooted in her chair. She didn’t have much choice. “Is it out of your way, Beau?”
“Nope.” He downed the last of his drink. “I have a job in that a—rea.”
As Beau drove through town, Abby held a box full of papers on her lap. She couldn’t help noticing there were checks made out to his company, bank statements, and other business documents. And the dashboard was covered with even more papers. Strange way to keep the books, but it wasn’t any of her concern, though she itched to dig in and organize them.
“I’m sorry for how I c—ame across last ni—ght.”
“Everyone’s entitled to an off night,” Abby said.
“I app—reciate that.”
No less than she did. “You know why I’m meeting with Luna, don’t you?” Abby asked.
“The c—urse?”
“She might help me reverse it.”
“You did—n’t cause the out—ages.”
He was kind, but she knew the truth.
Beau parked in front of a pleasant house, exactly how Abby imagined Luna’s place. Perhaps one day, Abby would have a place of her own, but at this rate, that would be the day after never.
“Thanks,” Abby said as she got out of the truck.
“I c—an take you h—ome. I’ll come b—ack after my j—ob,” Beau said.
She needed a ride, and since they hadn’t settled the business about Scarlett, Abby accepted. She watched as his truck disappeared around the corner. The guy was honestly a good man. Strange that he was unattached. But perfect for Abby? No way would she give her aunt the satisfaction of being right on that one.
A short time later, Luna arrived and invited Abby into a quaint sunroom. The pastel colors and comfy furniture weren’t anything like Abby had imagined as a witch’s meeting room, but it fit Luna to a tee.
Abby sat in an overstuffed chair as Luna lightly clapped her hands to move a large white cat from a matching chair across from her.
“Off you go, Hecate,” Luna said.
On a round table between them was a quartz ball on a wooden stand.
“Thank you for seeing me,” Abby said.
“The rush is over, so this was a good time. Now, how can I help you?”
Abby’d never had a one-on-one talk with a witch about something as personal as a curse. She gnawed on a hangnail.
“You won’t tell me anything I haven’t heard before.” Luna’s gentle voice affirmed Abby had made the right decision.
Abby lifted her gaze and began to tell the story. All and every bit of it, including shutting down the power to half of Cat’s Paw Cove.
Luna flashed a smile. “I’m glad the Café has gas ovens.”
“Can you reverse this curse?” Abby asked.
“I can, but first we need to figure out if it’s real.”
“It’s real. Remember those things I told you?” Abby’s stomach catapulted into her throat.
“Calm down. I’m sure those things happened, but maybe they were coincidental. It’s dangerous to try and reverse a nonexistent curse. I need to be sure before we go further.”
How the heck could Abby convince her other than shutting down power again?
“You have to help me.” Abby’s voice climbed an octave. “Otherwise, I’ll be cloistered for the rest of my life.”
“Breathe with me.” Luna raised and lowered her hand in front of her own chest in sync with her inhalations and exhalations.
Abby copied the rhythm and, after a few seconds, felt better. “I’m sorry. But I’m scared this is going to be my permanent fate.”
“I never said I wouldn’t help you. I just need more information.” Luna removed the quartz ball from its stand and handed it to Abby.
“Be sure your fingertips are touching all around it,” Luna said. “Hold it gently like an unbaked loaf of bread.”
Abby knew the ball was solid crystal, but it felt as light as, well, unbaked bread dough, and became even lighter the longer she held it. Suddenly the crystal took on an ever-so-subtle red glow, then it changed to orange, to yellow, then to green. Finally, the color became muddy gray-blue. Beyond that, no more colors.
Luna took the crystal back and set it on the stand, and it returned to clear.
“Well, that was interesting,” Luna said.
Was this a ‘good’ interesting or a ‘bad’ one. The crystal returned to its clear state.
After an agonizing pause, Luna said, “It seems your throat chakra’s blocked.”
Abby grasped her neck. What she knew about chakras could fill a thimble, but this sounded bad.
Luna smiled. “It’s a curse, for sure. The old woman knew right where to send it, without you even being aware. You had been sparring words with her, right? And you told me her curse had to do with your lips.”
Abby hoped Luna didn’t force her to say the trigger word.
“Lips, voice, throat, words. It makes so much sense,” Luna said.
“To you, maybe,” Abby said.
“Our bodies are electrical systems that rely on chemical balances between the heart and brain to keep the current flowing. And some believe, as I do, that the chakras are linked to the electromagnetic color spectrum. I think because you were a worthy match of wits, you angered the old woman so much that she paid you back the worst way she could. I’ll bet she found a way to muck with your energy flow.”
“She got even by blocking that one word? I can’t believe she could do that,” Abby said.
“She was a cagey one, for sure. Not all magic is used for good. You know that as well as anyone,” Luna said. “But let’s talk about that word, Abby. We can never discount the influence of our minds.”
“So, are you saying the curse isn’t real?” she asked.
“Not at all. She cursed your chakra. But she didn’t specify the consequences. The first thing that happened after you said the word became what you associated with it. It could have been a rainstorm. Or a child’s cry. For you, it was a stalled car.”
Abby tightly clasped her trembling hands. “But so many things have happened. And not just here in Cat’s Paw Cove but everywhere I’ve been.”
“The old woman did a number on you, Abby. The chakra is definitely blocked, but after that? I think those have been coincidences. There’s one more thing.”
More? Wasn’t it enough that the ‘word’ and the events might not be related at all?
“I think it’s something else. I’m no analyst, Abby. And what I’m about to say may be hard to hear.”
What could be harder than what her aunt had said about using it as protective armor?
“Go ahead,” Abby said.
“I think what happened to you is tied to something deeper. You might be using this as, well, an excuse.”
Abby opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Had her aunt and Luna teamed up somehow?
“Is it possible?” Luna asked softly.
Abby’s fists untangled, and she rested her hands on the chair arms.
“It’s complicated, Luna.”
“I’m a good listener.”
The idea of telling an outsider her deepest feelings coated Abby’s soul with fear. But if it helped, she’d pull it together and do this.
“All my life, I wanted to be special like Theo.” Abby paused. Was this enough? The answer rested in Luna’s silence, so Abby continued.
“My cousin’s gift to bring people back from the past came from her father. His brother, my father, didn’t have any magical gifts.”
“Do you resent Theo?”
Abby vigorously shook her head. “Never. She’s amazing.” Her voice hitched. “I admire how she overcame her struggle to accept the gift.”
“I assure you that magic is not the answer to everything. It doesn’t define us or shape us. It’s a part of our lives, but no
t the whole. People, like Theo, or me, or any of the others in town, must learn to believe in our own self-worth first.” Hecate jumped up into Luna’s lap and nudged her hand for petting. “And by the way, I believe everyone has some form of magic in them.”
“I certainly haven’t found any in my life,” Abby said.
Luna smiled. “Have you looked? I mean, really looked?”
“I don’t time travel or call spirits. Or anything like you can do,” Abby said.
“There are more than enough of us who can. Discerning a gift takes time, and you may be closer than you think to find yours.”
“You said something about a curse being an excuse,” Abby said.
“I did.”
Abby swallowed hard. “Is it possible someone could hide behind a curse?”
“Absolutely. I could give you a dozen examples.”
Abby’s heart thumped against her chest wall. “I might be one of those examples.”
“If that’s true, you won’t have it to hide behind anymore.”
For long moments, Abby stared overhead as though she expected the answer to scroll across the ceiling. She brought her gaze back to the crystal ball.
“I’m ready,” she said.
“I’ll be right back.” Luna left the room through a side door.
For the first time in years, Abby felt the black cloud over her head begin to dissipate. There might be a solution, even if it was inside her.
Luna returned with a drawstring bag, a leather-bound book, and a bottle of spring water that she handed to Abby. Luna removed the items from the bag and set them on the table: a shiny blue stone, a small white candle, a dish, a paper, and a pencil.
Abby reached for the stone, but Luna cautioned her to wait.
“This lapis stone isn’t ready. Once we’re done, you need to keep it with you. And you are in such luck! Today is a waning last quarter moon.”
Waning moon or waxing moon. Abby was never sure which phase was which. But if Luna said it was lucky, that was all Abby needed to know. Luna took a lighter from her pocket and lit the candle. She flipped through pages in the book that she held on her lap.
