Easy Bake Coven: Book One of the Vivienne Finch Magical Mysteries

by J. D. Shaw

  As she ran to the kitchen a thin veil of white smoke poured from the crevices of the oven and she grabbed a dishtowel and waved it frantically at the detector.

  Tom Cat growled, his hair standing on end from the kitchen doorway. His tail had puffed out to twice its normal size.

  Without thinking, she turned off the oven, turned on the range hood fan, and flicked on the interior light to survey the damage. The macaroni and cheese looked like lumps of coal. “Oh, not tonight.” She groaned. “Not this meal.” She retrieved the smoldering heap from the oven rack and set it upon the grates above the gas burners.

  As the smoke detector ceased its racket, Tom Cat relaxed and jumped up onto the dinette set. He meowed a few times and rubbed his head against the grimoire, which lay open.

  “Where did that come from?” Vivienne asked him. “I could have sworn I left it at the bakery.” She stared at the pages which she had never seen before. It was the section right after the first journal entry which had looked like a jumble of strange symbols previously. There was a hand-drawn image of a clock face and what looked like corn-husk brooms sweeping counter-clockwise around it. The words ‘Tempus Revocare’ were scrawled three times below the image.

  “Tempus Revocare.” She read aloud. It was Latin, but her understanding of the dead language was rusty at best. She had wanted to take it in high school, but Mother insisted she take something easier like Spanish instead. They don’t even use Latin in the masses during church anymore, Nora rationalized. “Tempus Revocare.” She repeated again. The first word meant time. She knew that because Nana Mary had a grandmother clock that had the words ‘Tempus Fugit’ inscribed on the brass face. It meant time flies. “Tempus Revocare.” She repeated as a rush of cold air swirled into the kitchen.

  Expecting to see the window open, she reached to close it only to find it already sealed and locked. The rush of wind pulled the vestiges of smoke from the ceiling and created a miniature funnel cloud that swirled and danced above her head. Vivienne stared in wonder as the tempest danced over to the oven and focused on the burnt macaroni and cheese. As the tendrils of smoke disappeared, so did the burned black color. It faded away to bright orange which then faded to a light brown. The tiny vortex seeped into the pasta and disappeared.

  Tom Cat looked at Vivienne and then smacked his lips with his tongue.

  She carefully stepped over to the stove and gasped in shock. The macaroni and cheese was perfectly cooked with just a touch of brown on the bread crumb topping. “I don’t believe it.” She rubbed her eyes in disbelief. “This can’t be real.”

  “Meow.” Tom Cat argued and jumped down from the dinette set onto the floor.

  She sat down by the grimoire, eyeing the book with new awe. There was no denying what had just happened. Despite all her attempts to explain with logic and science, she was left no choice but to accept what Nana Mary had told her earlier in the day. It was indeed witchcraft and she was most certainly a witch.

  Tom Cat rubbed against her legs and then jumped up into her lap.

  She reached down and gave his stiff fur a few strokes. “Nana Mary was right all along.” She explained to the cat. “This changes everything.”

  Tom Cat didn’t seem to care all that much for the magic display. He looked at her again and licked his lips as if to tell her it was getting past his usual dinner time.

  “I’ve got some cans of tuna in the pantry.” She explained. “They’ll have to work for tonight.”

  He meowed back his approval and jumped back down to the floor. He stopped at the water dish and gave the liquid a test with his front paw before lapping some up with his little pink tongue.

  Vivienne walked over the pantry and located the can of yellow fin tuna packed in water. “Don’t get too used to this, by the way. This is a one-time only special meal.” As she opened the can and scraped the flakes onto a saucer, she was glad she didn’t read that spell at this particular moment. Having to wrestle a giant tuna in her kitchen would be difficult to explain to the neighbors to say the least.

  Chapter 14

  Not wanting to set a bad example by being late, Vivienne went just a few miles over the speed limit as she drove across town toward Meier Lane. The setting sun had managed to break through the clouds and illuminate the sky in one of those red/orange colors that no tree could ever hope to match. The nights were arriving earlier and soon it would be dark before most people even sat down for dinner.

  She turned onto Main Street and found traffic had slowed to a crawl as she neared the county courthouse and city hall. From her viewpoint behind the wheel, she could make out all sorts of flowers and cards lining the sidewalk to the city facilities. Flocks of onlookers gathered here and there, some holding small candles in memoriam to Mona Clarke. As the funeral services were closed to the public, the public had in turn created its own way to pay respects. The outpouring of sympathy was somewhat surprising, given the controversy she had caused at the historic commission meeting, but in the end Vivienne knew the hearts of most folk in Cayuga Cove were good and they rarely spoke ill of the dead.

  As traffic began to clear, she spied Victoria Clemens holding the arm of Mayor Richard Clarke as they walked together and read some of the messages left on condolence cards.

  Richard looked tired and much older than usual, Vivienne thought as she drove past. He was clearly overtaken with grief at the sudden loss of his wife and seemed to be relying on Victoria to keep things in as much order as possible during the grieving process.

  Her eyes drifted to the grimoire on the front seat. She didn’t know why, but she suddenly felt protective of it and didn’t dare leave it at home. If it did contain such power, surely it could prove a deadly weapon in the wrong hands.

  A squeal of tires snapped her attention back to the road where a silver van pulled out forcing Vivienne to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision. The driver shouted something in an angry voice at the crowd of mourners. Vivienne’s headlights reflected off the red lettering along the side of the van. She could clearly make out Suzette Powell’s The Formal Affair catering logo. The van revved its engine and sped off as Vivienne double checked for any further traffic before continuing on her way.

  The smell of the macaroni and cheese filled the air inside the car, and her stomach gave a little growl in response. As she turned onto Meier Lane she had to pay close attention to the house numbers in order to get her bearings. It was one of the streets she wasn’t at all familiar with. Unlike the other areas in Cayuga Cove, most of the homes in this area were built in the late sixties and early seventies. There were many ranch and split-level style homes, along with some duplexes that served as rentals due to the lack of any fancy apartment complexes that larger cities had in spades.

  Easily enough, she found the green duplex at 604 and pulled her vehicle along the curb to park. She turned off the car and tucked the grimoire into her large purse along with the keys. With the casserole in hand, she walked up to Joshua’s door and kept having to fight a persistent breeze to keep the aluminum foil from leaping off the top of the casserole dish.

  The front door opened and Joshua welcomed her with a big smile and a warm hug. Dressed in a pair of comfortably worn jeans and a red flannel shirt that allowed wisps of his dark chest hair to peek out from the top two buttons which were left undone, his casual look matched hers perfectly. “Let me help you with that.” He took the casserole dish from her grip and guided her into his home.

  She stepped into the small foyer and was pleased to smell the faint warm scent of wood smoke. “Thank you.”

  Setting the dish down on an end table, he slid her jacket down her arms and tucked it into a coat closet where she noticed a few extra deputy uniforms and pairs of polished boots were neatly stored. He retrieved the casserole dish and inhaled deeply. “This smells delicious.”

  “It’s nothing terribly fancy, simple macaroni and cheese.” She explained as she followed him into the living room. A robust fire crackled from the fireplace, across from
which a simple square table was setup along with place settings, linen napkins, and a bottle of white wine chilling in a bucket of ice.

  “I love macaroni and cheese.” He licked his lips. “Does it have a crunchy topping?”

  “It’d be a sin to have forgotten that.” She laughed.

  He lifted the foil cover up and smelled it once more. “Is there no end to your talent with food?”

  She walked over to a brown leather loveseat and set her purse down on the carpeted floor. “I’m horrible with making fudge.” She confessed. “The best I can come up with is more akin to sludge.”

  “Well that changes things, date’s over.” He joked as he set the casserole dish on the table.

  She shared his laughter and lowered herself down onto the cushions of the loveseat. The leather cushions were soft and supple, cradling her body in a warm embrace. “You have a lovely home here. You’re so lucky to have a working fireplace.”

  “I was surprised it hadn’t been replaced with one of those gas units.” Joshua stared at the fireplace with pride. “It’s just not the same.”

  “I agree.” She watched the flames dance and leap over the split wood. The bottom glowed amber and red, much like the sunset she had witnessed earlier. “It’s just not as romantic.”

  He easily pulled the cork from the bottle and poured some of the wine. “I was thinking the same thing.” He took a seat and passed a long-stemmed goblet to her.

  “Here’s to the lost art of romance.” She raised her glass to him.

  “I’ll drink to that.” He shared the toast with her and they both took a sip.

  The wine was bright and fruity, with a nice grape flavor. “This is really good. What kind is it?”

  “It’s from one of the local places around here.” He paused for a moment in thought. “Glen Harvest, I think was the name.”

  “That’s the winery that Stephen Clemens owns with his family.” Vivienne mused.

  “I don’t think I know him.” Joshua replied and took another sip.

  “He’s the husband of Victoria Clemens from the historic commission.” Although her knowledge of wine was quite limited, she had to admit that this blend was quite tasty.

  “Oh.” Joshua nodded. “She was the bossy one at the meeting, right?”

  “Well, one of the bossy ones I guess.” Vivienne shrugged. “There was so much said that night it all seems a blur now after Mona’s death.”

  Joshua swirled the remaining wine in his glass. “I know.”

  Vivienne scolded herself for bringing up Mona’s death again. He probably had dealt with it all day at work and the last thing he wanted to do was spend his off hours talking about it. She took a deep breath and changed the subject. “So, I’m thinking I’m going to aim for a soft opening in four days.”

  His blue eyes studied her. “No big ceremony?”

  “That’s not my style, really.” She took another sip of wine.

  He placed his arm around her shoulders. “You don’t care for big crowds either?”

  She relaxed and allowed herself to lean against him. “I’m just a laid back country girl at heart.” She loved feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath. The faint smell of a spicy cologne drifted from underneath his shirt.

  “That’s me too.” He answered with a chuckle. “Except for the girl part, that is.”

  He stretched his long legs out and accidently knocked her purse over with the tip of his enormous brown cowboy boots. “I’m sorry about that.” He leaned forward to retrieve it. “That’s what happens when you have size fifteen feet.”

  “I can see why.” She chuckled in response. “It’s okay. Don’t tell anyone, but I can be a klutz in the kitchen sometimes too.”

  “What’s this?” He picked the grimoire up from the floor.

  “Oh, it’s just an old journal from my Nana Mary.” She finished off her wine and reached out for it. “I found it tucked in a box with some of her cookbooks.”

  He flipped it open and glanced at the page. “Whoa. This is from 1692?”

  The empty wine goblet fell from her grip and bounced on the carpet as she sat up in alarm. “What did you say?”

  He pointed to the first page on the grimoire where the journal entry was posted. “It says March 28th, 1692.”

  “You can read it?” She blinked in disbelief. “You can actually read it?”

  “Yes.” He answered slowly. “Is that surprising to you?”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s amazing me.”

  “Amazing that I can actually read a book?” He puzzled.

  “No,” She took the grimoire in her hands. “You are the only person I’ve shown this too that can see more than just a bunch of blank pages.” She flipped ahead to the middle of the book where the pages still looked like gibberish to her. “Can you read this?”

  He leaned forward and his brow furrowed. “Not really. It looks like some kind of collection of symbols.”

  She set the book down on the loveseat and threw her arms around him in response. “I’m not going crazy. Oh, you have no idea how much this means to me.”

  “Whoa.” He pulled away from her. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry.” She fanned her face with her hands. “I know it sounds unbelievable, but this means more to me than you can know.”

  “Vivienne, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say.” He gave her a little smile of reassurance. “But I’m happy that you’re happy.”

  “I guess I should start at the beginning.”

  “Can we talk over dinner?” He asked. “I’ve been smelling that macaroni and cheese since you came in and it’s driving me crazy.”

  She clapped her hands together. “Oh, yes. I’m so sorry about that.”

  Joshua stood up from the loveseat and helped her up. “Something tells me you’ve got a hell of a story to tell.”

  She looked up at him, the firelight dancing off his finely chiseled features. “You have no idea.”

  As they enjoyed the main course, and a few more glasses of wine to wash it all down, Vivienne brought him up to speed on her journey of discovery. At first, he seemed to be waiting for her to reveal it was all a prank. After the third glass of wine went down, he lowered his guard and took in every word with absolute undivided attention.

  “This is amazing.” He marveled. “It might just be the wine talking, but for some reason I completely believe you.”

  “I can hardly believe it myself.” She admitted.

  “So you cast a spell on the macaroni and cheese?”

  “I guess so.” She hadn’t found so much as a single charred piece in the entire casserole dish. “But don’t ask me how I did it.”

  “That seems a rather simple spell. Did they even have macaroni and cheese back in Salem?” He chuckled.

  “Right now I’d believe anything is possible.” She took another sip of wine. “Coming from me, that’s really saying something.” Her head swirled a bit and she wished she hadn’t drunk so much of the wine.

  “I’m not a warlock or anything like that.” Joshua added as he finished the last of the wine. “Isn’t that what a male witch is called?”

  “Well that’s good to hear.” Despite the two of them finishing two entire bottles of wine, she was still quite thirsty. It must have been the heat from the fire, she thought as she held her empty glass out to him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m still a little thirshy.” She blinked at her mangled pronunciation. “Thirsty. Do you have another bottle?”

  “I think there’s one more in the fridge, but it’s a blush.” As he rose from the chair, he held onto the table for support. “That wine really catches up to you after awhile.”

  Vivienne gave him a goofy smile. “I hardly ever drink, so just a bittle lit and I’m flying.”

  He laughed at her answer and nearly fell to the floor. “I don’t know why that’s so funny, but it is.”

  She stood up from the table and then stumbled over to the loveseat. “Mother woul
d be so embarrassed if she knew I was drinking with a hot man in his own home.” She plopped onto the leather cushions. “Oh hell, at this point if I called her she’d probably have us married and having kids by tomorrow. Why don’t we just drive down to city hall and get it over with?”

  Joshua stumbled over next to her and dropped onto the loveseat. “I can only imagine the news of a shotgun wedding spreading through town. That’d really give the town gossips something to talk about for once, right?”

  She crawled over to face him and burrowed her face into his chest. “It sure would. Eunice Kilpatrick would have a field day down at the bank.”

  He closed his eyes and laid his head back. “I’m too tired to clean up.”

  “Maybe there’s a spell in the book to clean everything up?” She giggled.

  “Would you try to make it do my laundry too?” He giggled back. “I could save a small fortune on laundry soap that way.”

  She waved her hands around in the air. “Oh magic book, do us a favor and clean up this place so we don’t embarrass the neighbors.”

  “You’re a poet too?” He asked.

  Vivienne responded with a little snore.

  He kicked off his boots and closed his eyes as the fire slowly died out. He wrapped his arms around her and surrendered to sleep. Vivienne mumbled something unintelligible and drifted back to sleep along with him.

  Chapter 15

  She awoke the next morning with a start as the shrill basic ring of the cell phone blared from inside her purse. She stirred from her sleep but was unable to answer it before it went to voicemail.

  Joshua blinked his eyes and stretched his arms upwards with a yawn. “What time is it?”