by Rose Pressey
***
Liam and Nicolas had both declined breakfast by leaving a note on my door the next morning. Where had they gone so early? Was it their so-called business in town? Maybe I should follow them sometime just to see exactly where they went. That kind of move wouldn’t win me the innkeeper of the year award, but I needed answers.
When I arrived at Bewitching Bath and Potions Shop, I pulled up in front, but hesitated before climbing out of the car. I knew my mother would have a million questions for me as soon as I walked through the door.
Fat bars of sunlight streamed through the windows and brightened the already white space. My mother was standing behind the counter. This time she had both eyebrows still on her face. A large pot with her ingredients surrounding it covered the space in front of her. She was hard at work.
She smiled and tapped her finger against a box next to her. “We have a bunch of new orders to fill.”
I quirked a brow. Why wasn’t she demanding to know everything?
“It’s been busy already this morning,” she said as she continued wrapping soaps in their packages.
I grabbed my apron and looped it over my head. Pulling out items from the box, I continued to stare at her.
Finally she looked up at me. “What?” she asked.
“Don’t act all innocent with me. What’s going on?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” she asked sweetly.
“Why aren’t you asking me what happened?” I stared at her.
She continued her work, pouring an unknown concoction into a pot. “I figure if you want me to know you’ll tell me.”
Oh, now I got it. “You’re upset because I didn’t return your call last night.”
“I still feel magic all around you. And it’s not the normal feeling. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked with a suspicious glare.
I continued taking things out of the box without looking over at her. I knew she was glaring at me. The staring was getting to me too. She had always had a way of making me talk. I knew she would win this battle.
Finally I gave in. “Okay. I found this book the other day and I performed a couple spells out of it. It seems like there’s been this strange energy around me since it showed up. Or maybe it has been since Nicolas and Liam showed up.”
“Oh. You’re on a first-name basis with them?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Mother! Out of everything I just said, that is the one thing you decided to focus on?” I looked at her incredulously.
She shrugged. “No, it’s not the one thing, but it was just the first thing.”
“Well, using their last names seems so formal.” I sniffed one of the soaps. “I want them to think of my place as a cozy, friendly spot.”
Uh-huh. Yeah, my mother wasn’t buying it and I knew that wasn’t the reason either. But I’d never admit it out loud.
“So tell me about this book,” my mother said. “Where did you find it?”
“It was in the attic,” I said nonchalantly
She brushed her hands on her apron “Well, your great aunt had a lot of old books.”
My voice lowered. “This one was different from the others.”
“How so?” she asked.
“Well, for starters, it wasn’t on the shelf with the rest of them. I found it upstairs in the attic. Or more like it found me.” I stirred the pot then met her stare.
“Honey, what are you talking about?”
Just then the phone rang and she held up her finger, making me pause. It was just as well though. I was having second thoughts about telling her about the book. Maybe I could think of something else to say. I could start talking about Nicolas and Liam. That would distract her from the situation.
My mother cast a glance at me as she apologized to the person on the other end of the line. What had I done this time?
She hung up the phone and looked at me. “Been doing spells in the middle of the night, have you?”
“I knew that witch Abigail would rat me out. I can’t help it if I messed up her spell. Besides, I can’t exactly do spells in front of my guests. Well, unless it was an emergency.”
“Can’t you wait until they leave?” The amused look suddenly left her eyes. “It wasn’t an emergency was it?”
“Not exactly. Well, I don’t know if it was an emergency.” I bit my bottom lip.
“You’re not making any sense, sweetie. Why don’t you tell me the whole story?” She patted the stool next to her and motioned for me to sit down.
“There’s not much to tell really. Like I said, I found the spell book in the attic. It was hidden behind the beams. I don’t know who hid it there, but I’m assuming it was Aunt Maddy.”
“That sounds like something she’d do. She probably forgot about it. What kind of spells are in the book?” my mother asked.
This was the tricky part, telling her the story had been easy up until now.
“I’m not sure what kind of spells are in the book.” I plopped down on the stool behind the counter.
“What do you mean you don’t know what kind of spells? Aren’t they labeled?” Her eyes widened.
“I don’t know if they are labeled,” I said.
“You’re still not making any sense. Did you hit your head again?” She touched my forehead.
I let out a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is the book is in a different language.”
She froze with her hand midair. “What language is it written in?” she asked with wide eyes.
I picked at a piece of paper on the counter, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before.”
“Then how did you do a spell out of the book?” she asked.
I shook my head. “This is the really strange part. A big wind came through and opened the book precisely to a page that was written in English.”
Her face blanched. “Then why the heck did you do the spell? Did it say what it was for?”
I shrugged. “I was compelled to. I don’t know what came over me.”
“This is not good.” She wiped her forehead and narrowly missed the eyebrow.
She looked at me as if to say ‘look at what you’ve done.’
“I need to call the Coven,” my mother said with alarm in her voice.
I stopped her from reaching for her phone. “No! You can’t do that.”
“Halloween, you don’t know what this book is or what it could do. You have to seek advice from people who are experienced in this sort of thing,” she pleaded.
She did have a point. But I didn’t want them involved. Not yet anyway.
“Just give me a little time to figure it out on my own, okay? I promise if I don’t figure it out I will tell the Coven. Do you promise not to tell them yet?” I asked.
She hesitated, then finally nodded.
“Thank you,” I said, giving her a warning glare.
The bell on the door jangled and we both looked up. I was thankful for the momentary distraction. A man carrying a beautiful bouquet of roses approached us.
“Oh, how beautiful,” my mother cooed.
If I’d known that roses could have captured her attention so much I would have sent flowers a long time ago. I’d have to remember her reaction.
“I have a delivery for…” He paused and looked down at his clipboard.
My mother held out her hands but stopped short.
The man finished his sentence. “Halloween LaVeau?” He quirked a brow and looked down at the paper to make sure he’d read it correctly.
“That’s me,” I said with shock in my voice.
