Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
S unday afternoons were for card sharks, mainly because the participants couldn’t manage to stay up past eight in the evening.
I was more of a card octopus. I showed up on occasion, but mostly did my level best to stay camouflaged, at least socially.
My job didn’t allow me to hide, especially not today.
With Judd out of commission, I’d be forced to spend the rest of the day glued to my phone.
I shed my last card. “Sorry, witches. I guess crazy eights is my game.”
“You got the crazy part right,” Meemaw said.
She wasn’t my Meemaw. The crone was the eldest witch on the island, which had garnered her the unofficial title of Everybody’s Grandma.
She wasn’t your typical grandmother in a knit shawl and soothing pastels, however.
Meemaw favored brightly colored tracksuits and sported shiny rings on every finger, as well as a gold tooth where her right canine used to be.
My preferred rumor was that she yanked it out herself because she needed the original tooth to complete a spell.
Not all badasses were witches, but in my experience, all witches were most certainly badasses.
I observed the money pot, which had grown to a considerable size since the games began two hours ago. “I should probably go back to the office,” I said. Maybe Judd’s hangover was cured, and I would find him seated at his desk, complaining about the coffee grounds I left in the filter.
Meemaw cast me a sly look. “So soon, child? Why not give an old witch a chance to win back what she lost?”
“You win far more than you lose,” I told her. “I consider this an anomaly.” Much like the rest of my morning.
“So do I,” Meemaw said. “I’m uncomfortable with anomalies. I’d like to set things right.”
“Just one more, Maya,” Meemaw’s daughter, Margie, pleaded.
“You haven’t played with us in a month.” As far as appearances went, Margie Ashford was the opposite of her mother.
For starters, she’d kept all her teeth. Today she wore a floral blue Lily Pulitzer dress, a string of black pearls, and a crown of silvery blonde curls.
She and Meemaw shared the same dark sense of humor, however, and the same leathery skin that suggested a century of sun worship.
“Fine. One more round,” I agreed. I wasn’t so greedy that I’d deny the crone a chance to recoup.
Catherine Weyand, another witch in residence, gathered the cards and shuffled. “I thought your new roommate was going to join us today, Louise. Why didn’t she show up?”
“Because I didn’t invite her,” Louise said.
A whistle blew past Meemaw’s gold tooth. “Friction already?”
“Not exactly. She called my eye patch ‘fetching.’”
Everybody on the island knew Louise Perry because of her eye patch. She treated it like an accessory, changing the design to coordinate with her outfit. Today she’d opted for a shade of neon green that matched her fingerless gloves.
“There. See? You’ve made a friend,” I said.
Louise shuddered. “Oh, I can’t possibly be friends with Bernice. The woman heats her water for tea in the microwave. It’s positively barbaric.”
“You should invite her next week,” Margie said. “Try to remember how you felt when you first moved to the island. The change can be unsettling for a lot of Neighbors.”
Louise shook her auburn head. “I don’t think she’ll fit in with this crew.”
“You don’t need to be a witch,” Meemaw said. She gestured to me. “Case in point.”
“Not because of that,” Louise said. “It’s a bunch of things, like I told her—if you have a gentleman caller, text me a picture of a sock.”
“Why not just hang one on the doorknob?” I asked.
Louise grunted. “This is the South, Maya. Nobody wears socks.”
I became acutely aware of my own sock-clad feet.
“Anyway,” Louise continued, “then she went on to say she would prefer we don’t have gentleman callers at all. That our condo should be a man-free sanctuary.”
“I don’t think that’s unreasonable,” I said.
Louise pinned me with her visible eye. “Easy for you to say. You live alone. You can swing from the chandelier with a team of incubi, and nobody will say boo about it.”
“I think the chandelier might complain,” I said.
Catherine licked her fingers and dealt another hand. The door flew open and my neighbor, Edith Evans, burst into the condo. Her bright red hair made it look like her head had been set on fire. Even in a crowd, the color made her easy to spot—and avoid.
“Sorry I’m late,” Edith said, panting. She stopped short when she noticed me. “I thought I saw you go to work.”
“I’m taking a break.”
“She’s had a rough morning,” Meemaw added.
Edith made a face. “Why am I not surprised? What did you two do this time?”
Meemaw and Margie exchanged looks. “It wasn’t us,” Meemaw said. “Sounds like Gwen was the victim of a home invasion.”
I heard Edith’s sharp intake of breath. “It wasn’t a home invasion,” I said quickly. I needed to stop the rumor mill from churning right here and now.
“There was an unauthorized demon in Gwen’s condo,” Margie said. “Doesn’t that qualify as a home invasion?”
“He wasn’t a demon, and technically he was invited in.”
“Maya kicked his butt back to the hell dimension he came from,” Catherine said.
“It was the coin, not my butt kicking.”
“That’s probably the most action Gwen’s condo has seen in years,” Louise said.
They burst into fits of violent cackles.
“Please, no jokes at Gwen’s expense,” I said. “She can’t help that her dementia is getting worse.”
“Lydia should be fined for the unauthorized use of magic,” Louise said. “Judd’s going to be in a foul mood when he gets your report, Maya.”
“If he has a hangover, he’s already in a foul mood.” She was right, though. Maybe I wouldn’t go back to the office after this, just in case.
Catherine fanned herself with her cards. “I’m not fond of angry Judd. He’s partial to the silent treatment, which reminds me too much of my ex.”
“At least you don’t have to share a bed with Judd,” Louise said.
“I didn’t share one with my ex either. He snored like a buzzsaw.”
“Judd is tightly wound,” I said, “but he’s a good guy.”
“He’s a stickler for rules,” Meemaw grumbled. “My least favorite type of person.”
I looked at her. “You follow rules when you craft spells, don’t you?”
“That’s different.”
“How so?”
“Because those rules are for my benefit.” Meemaw sniffed. “Judd’s aren’t.”
“They aren’t Judd’s rules,” I said. “They’re the Neighborhood HOA rules and regulations. We just enforce them.”
Meemaw gave me a pointed look. “One of you more stringently than the other.”
A fair point. I’d left a strict adherence to rules behind me when I left the mainland. I was more than happy to let Judd be the stickler on Evermore.
Edith pulled up a chair and squeezed next to me. “You know, if Judd is such a good guy, why not date him? You’re both available.”
Oh no. Not this again. You’d think with three ex-husbands that Edith would be champing at the bit to find her fourth. Unfortunately, she seemed to have decided that I was a more interesting time suck. If she had a future husband number four, maybe she’d leave me alone.
“Judd is my boss, and I have no romantic interest in him.”
“He gives bossy older brother vibes,” Louise said .
I tried to redirect Edith’s attention to her own empty side of the bed. “You’ve been in a dry spell lately. Why not find a new boyfriend?”
“I don’t want a boyfriend. I want a nap.” Edith nudged my arm. “You, on the other hand, should consider a husband. You’re too young to give up on relationships.”
“I think Maya is wise to stay single,” Catherine said. “I had a husband and you know how that worked out for me.”
Margie addressed the group. “He dropped her right on their wedding night when he crossed the threshold.”
“I warned him not to pick me up, but did he listen? Of course not. The man had more red flags than the Olympics.”
Edith’s jaw practically hit the table. “Your husband dropped you?”
“Metaphorically and literally,” Margie said.
“Multilayered,” Edith murmured.
Louise stared at her with a solemn expression. “If that isn’t an omen, then I don’t know what is.”
“The man still haunts me. The other night I tore off the covers and flew out of bed, screeching like a banshee.” Catherine shot an apologetic glance at Edith. “No offense.”
Edith bristled. “I’m a harpy. We’re not remotely the same.”
I stifled a laugh.
Catherine continued her story, undeterred. “Anyway, the room was pitch-dark, but I managed to find the wall so I could stretch my calf.”
“Night cramps are the worst,” Margie chimed in.
“Here’s the kicker,” Catherine continued. “I felt the need to apologize out loud. I hadn’t shared a bed with my ex-husband in years, yet there I was, disoriented in the middle of the night and instinctively apologizing for making a sound.”
“Old habits die hard,” Meemaw said in solidarity.
I silently agreed. I’d struggled to break many, many old habits in order to live a peaceful life on Evermore.
“Margie and I are going to the pictures later. Anybody want to come?” Meemaw scanned the group. “How about you, Maya?”
“Maya needs to spend her free time figuring out the rest of her life,” Edith said.
“She can figure it out while standing in line for popcorn,” Margie countered.
“I’ll pass, ladies, but thank you.” I glanced at Edith. “And not because of what you said. I don’t need to figure anything out. My life is exactly as I want it to be.”
“You’re too young to have that attitude,” Edith said. “The rest of us are here because we’ve lived too long to get away with living in the modern world.”
“Maybe I’m older than I look.”
Meemaw laughed. “Not a chance. I have chin hairs older than you.”
“Can we get back to cards?” I asked. “Especially when I’m about to kick butt for the second time today.”
“You can’t win, Maya.” Meemaw sounded very sure of herself, especially given my severe lack of a poker face.
“Like hell.” I placed the eight of spades on top of the discard pile and relished the sound of horrified gasps.