1 Moonshine & Magic

by Bella Falls

  “He better not be talking about me,” I muttered.

  Matt gripped my arm. “Birdy, you might not want to be here right now. Trust me.”

  “I. Said. Stop. It,” I gritted through my teeth.

  A few people around us turned and stared. They leaned in and whispered to each other, their eyes darting to me. Those few tapped the shoulders of some others, and in what seemed like a blink of an eye, a lot more heads turned my way than looked at the stage.

  “If y’all don’t mind, I’d like to ask someone here on the stage. She’s the person who’s affected me the most. Without her, I’d be a different man.”

  Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and I rung my hands. How had Tucker heard about my return? In the letter I’d left behind, I explained that we’d talk about things when I came back. However, that conversation wasn’t meant to be had in front of the whole town. There was no way my behind was going up on that stage. If I had to, I’d use all of my magic to teleport me away, even if it killed me.

  Tucker beckoned with a wave. “Come on up here, Clementine.”

  Mouth open in disbelief, a skeptical screech escaped me. “Clementine?”

  If there were any eyes not turned in my direction, my outburst cured that. All heads whipped to stare at me, including those of my Aunt Nora, Tucker’s mom and dad, and the man himself. The smile leached away from his face as abject dread replaced triumph.

  My cousin Clementine took nervous steps onto the stage, her lips forming a shaky smile. When she reached Tucker, she touched his arm and leaned on him for support. He continued staring at me until she pinched him.

  “What? Oh…right. Um…Clementine. My darling Clementine.” He patted her hand, and I rolled my eyes. Didn’t he remember we called her that as a joke, not a term of endearment?

  Getting down on one knee, he held out his hand. A velvet box materialized in it, and the women in the crowd gasped. Everyone loved a proposal. Except me.

  “Miss Clementine Leonora Walker Irwin, would you make me the happiest of witches and agree to marry me?”

  I seemed to recall him reciting the same thing to me not that long ago in the woods under a waning moon and stars.

  “Yes,” she squeaked, her right hand flying to cover her mouth and her left hand extended. “Yes, I will gladly and with honor become Mrs. Hollis Tucker Hawthorne IV.”

  “Those two are gonna drown underneath their mighty names,” I sneered.

  Pixies wearing laurel leaves like crowns and togas appeared out of nowhere, carrying trays of full champagne flutes to pass around. A banner fell from the rim of the Gazebo that read, Congratulations, Tucker & Clementine in cursive script.

  Instead of applause, silence filled the air. The heat of hundreds of staring eyes bore into me. Maybe they wanted a spectacle of tears, a tantrum of anger, or a crazy outburst from me.

  Snatching a glass from a nearby flying pixie, I held it up high. “To the betrothed couple. May you both have all the happiness in the world.” The words tasted like ash.

  Like deflating a balloon, the tension diffused, and everyone followed suit. Soon, the merriment returned, and life moved on around where I stood glued to the same spot. My eyes tracked Tucker’s movements as he waved at people while escorting my cousin off the stage.

  Matt patted my back, pulled my bag from my shoulder, and excused himself as a rush of screaming girls surrounded me and shut out the rest. They talked all at once, throwing arms around my neck and bestowing kisses on my cheek. I did my best to hide the emotional storm brewing inside me.

  “Well, Charli knows how to take a heck of an exit. I guess we should have guessed she’d make a whirlwind of a return.” Blythe Atherton, the tallest of all of us, winked at me.

  “I think she acted fabulously considering how surprised she must have been. You were surprised, weren’t you?” Alison Kate Johnston licked frosting off her fingertips after handing me a red velvet cupcake. “Taste this and tell me if you can tell what the secret ingredient is.”

  Lily Blackwood put a protective arm around my shoulder. “Leave her alone, Ali. Can’t you tell that she’s—”

  “—a ticking time bomb,” her cousin Lavender finished. “Her aura is all wobbly.” Born in the same month under the Gemini sign, those two acted more like twins than cousins although they looked nothing alike.

  “I’m just trying to cheer her up,” pouted Alison Kate.

  Pulling up my theoretical big girl britches, I obliged with a bite of the cupcake. “You are, Ali Kat. It’s gonna take more than a minute for me to get comfortable in my own shoes again.” The cupcake tasted like sand, but I managed to chew and swallow. “Is it flavored with some honeysuckle syrup?”

  Alison’s face dropped. “How did you know?”

  “Because everything has honeysuckle in it. Frosted fairy wings, you can be dense sometimes.” Blythe argued back and forth with Alison.

  Lily and Lavender discussed the morphing colors of my aura, Lavender attempting to manipulate it by pinching her fingers around me. And I grew more and more comfortable in the chaos of my friends. My tribe. Suddenly, the world righted itself again.

  Until the sound of a throat clearing interrupted. “Girls. Thank you for celebrating with us this evening. Have you seen my Clementine’s ring? It will truly take your breath away.”

  Aunt Nora dragged my cousin in front of everyone, her eyes never leaving mine. She nudged her daughter, and Clementine held out her hand.

  “That’s a real beauty,” I admitted. The rest of my friends made agreeable noises but shared knowing looks between them.

  That particular ring had been just as shiny and beautiful on my hand, too. But it also had looked sad and dejected when I left it on top of my farewell letter. Who was to say it wasn’t exactly where it should be now?

  “Congratulations, Clem.” I gave her a hug, which she stiffly returned. “I truly do wish you all the happiness.”

  My cousin narrowed her eyes at me as she curled her lips in a cold smirk. “Thank you, Cousin Charlotte. Although we didn’t expect your presence here tonight of all nights. But I appreciate your sentiments. I really should be getting back to my Tucker.”

  Clementine left in a snit, but her mother remained. She grasped my hand in her icy grip. After an awkward pause, Aunt Nora leaned in and planted a cold kiss on my cheek. “May you have a happy homecoming,” she proffered through clenched teeth. “Girls.” She nodded at my friends and took her leave.

  We watched her glad-hand her way through the different groupings of people, no doubt bragging about her perfect daughter marrying into the most prominent founding family.

  Alison Kate shook her head. “That cousin of yours is…”

  “A real witch?” I finished. “Yeah, we’ve never been close.” I did my best not to notice Lavender touch Lily’s hand for a second. At one point in my childhood, I would have given anything for my cousin to be that close with me. No chance of that. Especially now.

  Lavender sighed. “You’d think your aunt’s aura would be all shiny with love and hope for her daughter’s future. She’s all cloudy.”

  Blythe crossed her arms. “I can’t believe those two are related to you.

  “Hmph. As Nora would gladly tell y’all and remind me, not by blood. I’m not a real Goodwin or Walker since I’m adopted, remember?” My aunt never lost an opportunity to tell that to people. No doubt she reveled in the triumph that a real descendant of the Walker’s was engaged to a Hawthorne. How my mother ever put up with her sister, I’d never know or understand.

  More Honeysuckle Hollow residents came over and hugged me hello, welcoming me and avoiding all semblance of curiosity about how I felt. In the long run, I realized that maybe I’d dodged a bullet. Without the awkward engagement, everyone would be focused on my departure. But now, most of them feigned concern for me. Better to play the victim than the villain.

  “Charli, what is happening to your hair?” Alison Kate pointed at my head.

  “Oh no. Gossamer’s
glamour must be wearing off, with my emotions in such a tangle.” I’d burned right through her magic much quicker than if I’d had my wits about me. “I’d better call this a night and head home before I make an even bigger scene when everyone sees what I’m really wearing.”

  It took another long round of hugs and promises to get together again in the coming days before I could leave. Matt excused himself from a nearby conversation and put his arm around me as we walked.

  “You going to Nana’s?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  “You gonna say more than yep?”

  “Nope.”

  “Brat.”

  “Yep.”

  Matt captured my head in the crook of his arm and gave me a noogie as I fake fought him off.

  “Leave me alone. You know I don’t need anybody. The streets are lit, and most everybody is here. I’ll be fine.”

  He raised his head and looked down his nose at me in full inspection. “You gonna stay put? If I come over tomorrow, will you be there?”

  My insides turned mushy, and I threw my arms around him. “Of course,” I mumbled into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  He rested his head on top of mine. “Good. Missed you.”

  “You, too.” Tears soaked into his uniform shirt, so I pushed back. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation as a tough warden.”

  He ruffled my hair and handed me back my bag. “Night, Birdy.”

  “Don’t call me that, Matty D.”

  My brother walked away, turning around to taunt me. “If not me, who else?” He waved. “See you tomorrow.”

  Same older brother. Same feelings of absolute love and childish annoyance. Someday, we’d be old and decrepit and still be having the same conversation.

  I walked out of the main entrance to the park and onto the middle of Main Street. Humming under my breath, I danced under the lights and illuminations. I’d survived the night. From here on out, life would be much easier.

  A shadow darkened the light of the moon, and a loud squawking interrupted my relief. The large bird circled overhead, its constant noise garnering my attention. When it didn’t stop in its repetition, I guessed its identity.

  “Hey, Miss Biddy. You gonna accompany me home?”

  The crow cawed at me twice and flew away. Not sure what to do, I turned in the direction to walk home. Biddy dive-bombed me, the whoosh of her feathers fluttering right above my head.

  “What are you doing, crazy bird?” My hands waved her away.

  The black figure circled above me a few times and flew in the opposite direction. Since I had no desire for the next thing she attempted to get my attention, I sighed and followed her insistent cries.

  We made it around a couple of buildings and down an alley until we hit the edge of the park, close to where I’d been before.

  “Hey, bird. Does Uncle Tipper want to talk to me? Did he send you?”

  Persistent squawks answered my futile questions, and I did my best to follow her screeching with spoken reassurances. She finally landed on a park bench, flapping her wings and hopping next to a ponderous figure.

  “Oh, hey, Uncle Tipper. You done bird doggin’ the ladies tonight?”

  No chuckle. No smart remark. Only a very uncomfortable hush.

  Biddy hopped onto the seat of the bench and then back up to the top of it. Her noises were quieter, sounding different. Like whining. Or pleading.

  My great-uncle was probably passed out. He hadn’t earned the nickname Tipsy for nothing. Still, I approached him with caution and dread.

  “Come on, Uncle Tipper. Time to walk me home.” The tremors in my hand unnerved me as I reached out to touch his shoulder.

  As soon as my fingers landed on his body, a cold zing zapped up my right arm, and I knew. I just…knew. Still, I shook him to be sure. First a gentle push. Then a second one with a little more force.

  “Uncle Tipper?” my voice wavered.

  His head slumped forward. My bag fell to the ground. And my scream filled the night air.

  Chapter Four

  My nose twitched with the temptation of delectable smells. Bacon. Coffee. A warm cinnamon-y concoction probably dripping with sugary frosting. A crash of something hitting the floor and muted fussing pulled me out of the deepest slumber of my life, like being yanked out of quiet deep waters and forced into the air and light.

  Sitting up, I rubbed my throbbing head, and I tried to piece together where I was. Someone had been chasing me in the dark, right? Or no, that had been a nightmare. And yet, deep down in the pit of my stomach, my gut screamed at me that all was not well. My right arm tingled with a strange ache, and I massaged it, taking in my surroundings.

  A pattern of tiny baskets of delicate flowers repeated over faded pale yellow wallpaper. Wooden furniture from different eras filled the enclosed space. Everything reflected a refined and austere taste save a chest of drawers that matched nothing else. Various bright colors decorated each drawer with every knob painted in contrast. It sat against the wall in utter rebellion against the other objects, a symbol of a young girl marking her territory. Above it, a framed cross-stitched sampler offered the sage advice to never accept an invitation to a dragon’s barbecue.

  Nana’s house. My room, my brain registered. Sunlight spilled through the lace curtains. My hand ran over the quilt covering me, relishing every handmade stitch. Filled with joyful glee, I snuggled down into the bed and pulled the covers over me, wrapping myself up and giggling. No better protection existed than being under this quilt, in this room, in this house.

  A light knock on the door interrupted my revelry. “Charli Bird,” Nana’s voice sang. “Get up, sweetness. Morning’s here to greet you with her shining light.”

  My grandmother’s standard wake-up call cheered me even more. Playing an old game, I barked out, “Nobody here but us chickens.”

  She pounded on the door a little harder. “Well, them chickens better roost their sorry behinds out of bed, or a certain bird will miss out on some fine breakfast. Now shake your tail feathers and get yourself up and presentable.”

  “I’m up, I’m up,” I yawned, planting my feet on the creaky wooden floor. “Hey, Nana?”

  “Yes, Charli Bird?”

  “What am I wearing?” My fingers plucked at the delicate ruffles on a nightgown from a bygone era that covered my entire body.

  “What I put on you after bathing and tucking you in. Now, you gonna use your mouth for complainin’ or eatin’?”

  My stomach punctuated her well-made point with a growl. I grabbed my bag first but found it empty of clothes. A stack of them clean and folded lay on top of a nearby wicker-seat chair, my panties neatly creased into a tidy square. After a quick trip to the bathroom in the hall to brush my teeth and pull my hair back into a messy bun, I ventured toward the sounds and tempting aromas. Nana’s cat Loki blocked my way, rolling his gray striped back on the hallway runner, his generous pale tummy mocking me.

  “Move it, cat.”

  With feline indifference, he licked his paw and stretched longer. Stepping over him, I made my way to the staircase. On the way down, the little stinker bit my ankle and zoomed underneath me, almost causing me to fall to my death.

  “You better run before I hex your tail off, stupid cat,” I yelled after his tubby behind.

  “Don’t disparage my sweet boy,” Nana chastised as she met me at the bottom.

  “He bit me.” I stood in front of her, hands on my hips.

  “It’s his nature. You can’t fault someone for being who they are.” She cocked an eyebrow at me.

  “Yeah, but you didn’t have to name him after the God of Mischief as a kitten. No doubt that contributed to his natural state of being a little devil.”

  She mimicked my stance. “I don’t know. Seems to me you fit your name quite well. You sprouted wings and flew away, didn’t you?”

  “Nana,” I protested, not prepared to defend myself without some food in my belly.

  Her
expression softened, and she opened her arms. “Thank goodness you found your way back, though. Now quit your sassin’ and give your old grandmother a squeeze.”

  She rocked me back and forth, and I clung to her with a wretched thirstiness, drinking in all the things that made her her. After Mom’s death, Nana took us in to help Dad and the two of us kids stay afloat from our sadness. Echoes of the life that we’d lived all those years here crashed against me. I didn’t notice the copious sobs racking my body until Nana forced a handkerchief into my hand. Its flimsiness made me laugh through my tears.

  “I don’t think this will get the job done,” I sniffed, lifting it to my face and taking in the scent of my grandmother’s perfume. “It’s too pretty to snot on.”

  Nana wiped the wetness from my cheeks with her fingers. “But that’s what it’s made for. So snot away.” Her knuckles dashed under her own eyes before she grabbed me by both shoulders.

  Her eyes examined me while her fingers squeezed my arms. She moved her hands up my neck and cupped my cheeks, tilting my head back, mumbling under her breath something unintelligible. When she cranked my head forward and got close enough that her nose almost touched mine while she stared into my eyes, the level of my discomfort broke my stunned paralysis.

  “Nana, whatcha doin’?” I asked through squished cheeks between her fingers.

  “Hmm, what?” She narrowed her eyes one last time before shaking her head and returning to her normal expression. “Oh, forgive me. Just checking to make sure you’re really here well and whole standing in front of me.”

  “O-o-kay.” Not for a second did I believe her lie, but hunger outweighed my curiosity. “Can we go eat?”

  Releasing me, she gave me another hard squeeze before patting my rump. “You go on into the dining room. I’m gonna open the front door.”

  “Why?”

  “It’ll make things easier. Now get.” She shooed me away with her hand.

  With tentative steps, I entered the formal dining room, the source of all the mouthwatering scents. The long oak table was covered with steaming dishes, a plate stacked with pancakes, pans of various ooey gooey baked goods, a mound of bacon and sausage piled high, a pot of coffee, a pitcher of orange juice, and another of Bloody Mary’s.