“You come here a lot?”
“Depends on how you define a lot.” He laughs lightly and waves Phil over.
“I love seeing new faces,” Phil says as he approaches, wiping his hands on a towel and then tossing it over his shoulder. His thin face stretches tight with a genuine smile, full of strong, healthy teeth.
“Phil Spicker,” he says, extending a still damp hand towards me. I acknowledge his greeting with a firm grip of my own. “Welcome to my dog’s place.”
At my confused expression, he nods over his left shoulder, still gripping my hand. In the darkened corner just behind us is a large dog bed filled with an even larger bulldog on his back, all four legs up in the air. This elicits an involuntary ‘aww’ from me.
“Yeah, he’s a mess,” Phil says, gazing with loving eyes at the old dog. “His name is Phil, too.”
“I’m Aven,” I say as he turns back to me, finally releasing my hand.
“She owns that new witch shop on Derby,” Cal says.
“Ohhh.” Phil’s eyebrows rise in recognition. “So you’re the one.” He eyes me with mock disdain.
“Oh, my.” I put my hands over my heart, feigning surprise. “Does my reputation precede me?”
Cal’s expression tells me that he doesn’t know what Phil’s referring to, and I don’t elaborate.
“It does indeed.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve caused quite a little storm there, haven’t ya?” By his expression, I know he is having fun with me.
“I don’t know what you mean, good sir.” I put on my best innocent face.
Phil guffaws. “I’m sure ya don’t!” His boisterous laugh startles Phil the dog. He gives his owner a snort then lets his head fall back and hang over the lip of the dog bed.
“What can I get ya?”
I ask him what brands of gin he carries and, thankfully, there’s an acceptable one. I order a gin and tonic, healthy. He clicks his cheek in acknowledgment and heads for the bar. I ask Cal where the ladies room is and excuse myself.
“What was all that about?” Cal asks, rising at my return. He reaches for his beer glass, forgetting it was empty.
“Well,” I say, putting my innocent face on again, “apparently, I’ve pissed off a few shop owners for a couple of reasons.”
Phil returns with a highball glass in one hand and a beer in the other.
“Only a couple?” He winks at me and I grin back. He doesn’t linger. I’m sure he thinks Cal and I are on our first date. Can you call this a date? An experienced barman like Phil knows when to hang around and when to make himself scarce.
“Phil knows everything that happens in this neighborhood, if you couldn’t tell.” Cal takes a long draught of his dark beer.
“I can see that.” I take a sip of my drink. The gin has a nice bite.
“Anyway, after I closed on the house, I got all the permits and everything I needed for the renovations in record time—without any hassles or delays. I guess that didn’t sit well with a lot of people. There are rumors floating around that I bribed some people to make it happen so quickly. Which is bullshit, by the way.” I take another sip of the nicely prepared gin and tonic. I notice Phil staring at me, and I raise my glass to him approvingly. He winks and turns away. “I can be quite charming when I need to be.”
“I’ll bet you can,” Cal says with a lascivious twinkle in his eye. He immediately regrets his words and his cheeks flush. I’m also a little embarrassed but give him a chuckle to ease his discomfort.
“Nobody likes competition,” Cal says, “especially if they think you’ll outdo them.”
He stares at his beer then finally makes full eye contact. “It’s a nice place. Looks good. I’ve only been in a couple other stores like that, doing plumbing jobs, and they’ve all been, well, either too creepy goth—is goth the right word?—or too hippy for me.” I nod to his goth question.
“I know what you mean. I refuse to be a contributor to the witch or pagan stereotype. My shop has only those things imbued with real magick.”
He makes a face at my last few words, but I ignore it for now.
“If that cuts into my bottom line, then, oh well. It won’t send me to the poorhouse.” I have accrued a great deal of wealth over the centuries, hidden away deep in a dormant volcano on a deserted island. It is mostly gold and jewels as paper money either deteriorates or becomes obsolete over time.
“You mentioned plumbing jobs. I guess you’re a plumber?”
“Yes and no. My family has a plumbing business, and I help run it. When I was younger, I did a lot of the work, but I’m older now and hire younger backs for that kind of work.” His beer mug is already empty.
I ask him more about the business and what it’s like to work with family. He beams as he talks about them. The business was started by his father, who passed a few years ago. Cal runs it in partnership with his sister, who is a few years older than he is; he confesses she’s the smarter of the two. His younger brother had no interest in plumbing and opted for a life in the military. While he is in Afghanistan, Cal is taking care of his son. Will’s mother ran off when he was a baby. At the mention of Will’s name, a frown takes over my mouth. Cal notices and quickly changes topics. I watch him talk. His full lips make me think he is a good kisser, and I like the way his eyes light up each time he mentions the business or his sister.
His body relaxes as he talks. It’s helping me relax also. Or, perhaps, the strong drink deserves the credit. He launches into talking about his ‘younger days’ when he was part of the Boston College Men’s Crew. He loved rowing but had to give it up when he tore his shoulder. As he talks, he accentuates important words with hand gestures. His hands are rough, and it’s obvious that he chews his nails, but they look strong from years of hard work and rowing. He’s kept his athletic build. The golden lighting brings out the blond in his hair, and reveals hints of silver threaded throughout the slight waves. When I first saw him, full of fury and stress, I still thought him quite handsome. Now that we are inches from each other and his mood has warmed with pleasure rather than anger, he’s a great deal more handsome to me.
At the end of what Cal has apologized for as an unrequested, long-winded tale of his life, Phil comes over unsolicited with two more drinks. We both give him a smile and he’s away again, this time sporting a grin.
“Don’t let me do all the talking,” Cal says, turning the glass’s handle towards him.
“It’s not like I’m going to tell you to shut up and let me say something.” We both laugh. Besides, you have a really sexy voice.
I settle back into the chair. “Well, you know I run a ‘witchy’ shop and live there also, and I bribed a few people to get my permits.” He acknowledges my sarcasm with a nod and a grin. “I share the house with a lazy cat, Arial, whom you declined to purchase, and a Great Pyrenees, Magdalyn, or Maggie, for short. Never married, no kids, no living family remaining. My hobbies include reading, gardening, making things like candles and soap, drinking piña coladas, and getting caught in the rain.”
He laughs aloud. Our knees make a connection as he relaxes in his chair. Neither one of us remarks on this or moves our knees. My attempt to put myself at ease with jokes and sarcasm has been thwarted by physical contact. A warming sensation fills my belly.
Staring at my glass, I continue.
“But seriously, my life’s dream has been to be accepted for who I am, and in moving to Salem, I’ve finally found that place. Money is not the reason for my shop. It’s more of a vindication; I can finally live as I am, be who I am—for the most part anyway—and having this shop fills me with that sense of acceptance.” Surprised by my unexpected openness with this stranger, I now feel exposed and embarrassed. I search for words to inject a bit of sarcasm to alleviate my discomfort but find none.
His eyes study my red face. “So you really believe in this witchcraft stuff? It’s not just for show?”
I meet his gaze. “I do.”
He purses his lips and
nods absently, like a bobble-headed doll.
“I take it that you don’t believe in magick?”
“I do not.” He is looking at his beer. He opens his mouth to continue but seems to think better of it.
I don’t hide my grin. If this goes anywhere, I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I prove him wrong.
“It’s okay, go ahead and say what you were going to. You won’t offend me, truly. I’ve heard it all.”
“I don’t want to run you off already,” he says. “I’m told I can be a real ass, so I’ll keep my comments to myself for now.”
My heart skips a beat at hearing that he’s worried he’ll run me off.
“Okay, fair enough. But I look forward to continuing this particular conversation.” I raise my glass, and he clinks his with mine. He doesn’t shy away from my gaze. Hooray for liquid courage.
After ordering some of Phil’s killer fries, which we end up sharing with Phil the dog, our conversations go back and forth from his life to mine. Most of mine I have to lie about, like my parents and childhood, but I’m quite practiced at doing so.
The pressure of our knees touching has gotten increasingly firmer. Neither one of us has acknowledged this contact. I think Phil has turned down the air conditioning because it’s too warm now. I’m hoping my deodorant is holding up. Cal has rolled up his long sleeves.
Phil comes over to the table, slaps his hands together loudly to ensure he has our full attention, and rubs them together. “Sorry, kids, but it’s getting to be closing time.”
“You’re kidding?” I’m surprised he’s closing so early.
“It’s almost midnight. This isn’t Boston, toots. I don’t make enough money to keep this place open until two a.m. in the off-season.”
I can’t believe how quickly the time has gone by, or that I’ve just been called ‘toots’. I don’t want to say goodnight to Cal so soon.
“Time flies.” Cal scoots back his chair.
Phil flips down a slip of paper in Cal’s direction and turns away. I ask him what my portion is and he waves me off. “I got it,” he says, digging for the wallet in his back pocket.
“No way. I must have had, what, six drinks? What’s the damage?”
Cal looks at the check. “You only had four, slacker.”
I can’t help but stick my tongue out at him. I may be a little tipsy. He looks for a moment and resists making a comment. Now I’m embarrassed and don’t press for him to say what he was about to.
As Phil takes Cal’s money and the empty glasses, I want to block the awkwardness creeping back in. “So, did you walk here?”
“Yeah, I’m not far. You?”
“Yep. Was a great chance to see the neighborhood.” I sit back in my chair, rubbing the sweat from my palms onto my pants.
“Cold?”
“Just the opposite,” I laugh. He grunts an agreement.
Not sure of what to do next, I get up. Cal quickly follows suit, and we head for the door. We say our goodbyes to Phil the human, and Phil the dog pads over to see us out. I have a new best friend. I scratch his chin and rub his sleepy head.
We bid Phil goodnight. The wind is surprisingly cool, or I was just that warm, and a delightful shiver passes over me. I hadn’t realized how stifling it had gotten in the bar. Cal assumes I am cold and laments not bringing a jacket because he would be offering it to me now. I thank him for his gesture with words and a squeeze on his upper arm. His muscle flexes involuntarily under my palm, making my fingers tingle. My hand lingers there a few seconds longer than it should. A pleasant warmth travels through my body when I realize I’m standing only inches from him. Heat is rolling off him. I finally drop my hand, knowing he’s looking at my face but not able to bring myself to look up at him. What a silly girl I feel like right now. Jo is hearing about none of this.
I clear my throat. “Well, I’m this way,” I say, gesturing with my thumb behind me.
“I’m just the opposite.” He looks behind him and then at me again. “But I could still walk you home, I guess.”
“Thank you, that’s very sweet, but I’m good.” The prospect of him returning home with me is an extremely tempting one, not that anything would happen, but the visit from Morris has knocked me down more than I want to admit.
“You sure? It may not be the safest walk at night.” He looks a bit disappointed.
I can’t help but laugh. “I’ll be totally fine, I promise.”
“Okay, then.” He takes a step back, hands going into his front pockets. “Have a good night. Be safe.”
“You too.” I can’t find anything else to say, so I turn.
I hear his feet scraping and turn to see him stepping towards me.
“Sorry.” He stops short of running into me. “I forgot to say that this was a great way to offset the crappy way we met.” We hadn’t talked about the incident with his nephew.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
In the glow of the streetlight, he fidgets, then pushes his hands back into his pockets.
This is stupid. I put my arms around his neck for a hug. A hug is a perfect way to hide your face when you’re nervous and also helps make you less nervous. He hesitates only for a second before putting his arms lightly around my waist.
His body is solid and so very warm. His arms squeeze a little tighter around my back, and I sense him sniff my hair. I just want to close my eyes and relax my entire body into his embrace. But I must let go and walk away before my legs turn into complete jelly.
I pull away slowly and step back. I am really hoping he doesn’t try to kiss me. Not yet anyway.
He clears his throat. “Can I call you tomorrow?”
I grin at him. “You still don’t have my number.”
“Ah, shit.” He hangs his head and unclips his phone from its case at his belt. After a few taps on the screen, he hands it to me. “Type in your number, I’ll finish the rest. Please.”
I enter my number and hand the phone back. While he’s occupied, I make my escape.
“Goodnight again, Cal. Talk to you soon.” I walk backward a few steps before turning around. He calls back goodnight and continues to watch me as I round the corner.
Once he is out of sight, I jump into the air like a little kid—the biggest grin plastered on my face. I am too elated and the night is too perfect to walk home, so I fly.
11
I watch my woman raise her arms into the air and bend her knees. She leaps upward. Rather than coming back to the ground like every other human, she propels upward at a great speed. Not like bird flying, for she has neither wings nor feathers. And yet, she flies.
The man she had been in that building with for many hours peers around the corner. At not seeing her, he calls her name and begins walking in the direction she should be going. After a few paces and no response, he looks around and pulls an object from his waist. It glows brightly. He replaces the item after a moment, shaking his head, and turns back.
I like this man. He has a kind spirit although his displeasure with the boy was very strong. I watched him pull the boy down the sidewalk. His face was tight and hard, and the boy fought against him with every step. Their words were angry. The boy had done wrong, and the man was going to make it right.
I think about following him but only watch him for another moment as he disappears around the other corner. I want to follow my woman as she has not flown since she moved to this loud and crowded place.
She is not far from me. She flies slowly, enjoying the feeling of it. The shimmer of magick is around her, like the ripples of silver water, which keeps her hidden from human eyes. But I can always see her. I can always find her.
She makes wide banks left and right, savoring the night air. She rolls leisurely with each curve and even from this distance, I can see her wide smile and the happiness in her eyes. She loves to fly; flying always makes her smile. But tonight her smile is from something else.
I can get a few inches closer but no more. I try, I have tri
ed, countless times to be near her but I cannot. Her energy is so very strong, and I cannot approach without pain in my head and my heart. Long ago, I thought that it was she doing this to me, hurting me on purpose, pushing me away, not wanting my company. After a time, I discovered this was false. She longs to see me, to be near me, to talk to me—as much, it seems, as I do her. On the many occasions when she has pursued me, I have had to flee. The pain is too much to bear. It feels as if all of my feathers are being plucked out at once. She has called to me, cried to me, so many times, but I cannot come. It weighs heavy on my heart.
I do not remember a time without my woman. I have followed her throughout her many lives. Sometimes it takes a long while to find her, but I always do. Her energy calls to me, leaves its trail for me to follow. But then, the pull becomes a push and I must stay back.
The other woman, my woman’s friend, is quite pleasing to be near. She is happy and smiles and laughs a great deal. She chats with herself in her garden when she thinks no one is looking. My woman trusts her as she has none other in the past. I feel that this woman has strong power. I will speak to her. Perhaps she can help me be near my woman.
My woman is home now, alighting quietly on the roof. I perch on an eave several houses down. She has heard movement behind her and turns. Her eyes pass over me and they burn me. I sink my talons into the wood to bear it and hold my breath. I endure it as it is not as bad as if I were closer. The pain passes quickly. She turns away and disappears into the house.
12
It’s a glorious morning. My sleep was untroubled by nightmares or even dreams for that matter. I’m refreshed even though it seems like I put my head on the pillow only a few hours ago.
As I lie under the covers looking at the hint of sunrise through the sheer curtains, my thoughts go immediately to Cal. I can’t help but smile. Aside from the palpable awkwardness at more times than I care to admit, last night was wonderful. Remembering the pressure of his knee pushing back on mine makes me flush.
The White Raven Page 8
