Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Aunt Vera arrived at the café shortly after Callan departed. She breezed into the room in a blur of scarlet coat, thick gray scarf, large vegan-leather bag, and a sweet perfume I’d made her for Christmas.
“How did your study session go?” she asked and kissed me on the cheek.
“Good. Thanks for letting us use the space. And for the scones. Everyone was raving about them.”
“Of course they were.” Aunt Vera nodded then hung her coat on a rack in the back room. “Are you on your way out? I came in to experiment with a few recipes. You’re welcome to join me.”
I glanced at my watch and was relieved to see that I had some time to spare. I hadn’t had any time with my aunt since her New Year’s trip to visit the family of her husband, Bryce.
“I’d love to,” I said, moving to the sink to wash up. As I scrubbed my hands with the crisp lemon soap, I again marveled at the complete lack of evidence that I had cut myself only a few minutes ago.
“Are you ready for spring classes to start? You’re still taking one class at SCC, right?” Aunt Vera asked.
“Yes, prop design is a year-long class. We’re making the decorations for A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which the drama classes will perform later in the semester. I’m excited to see everything come together.”
“I can’t wait to see it. Speaking of spring, I was thinking about trying something different that we can launch once it warms up. What do you think of flower-flavored cookies?”
“Flower-flavored?” I scrunched up my nose. “Which flavors?”
“Well, we’re already famous for our lavender scones. Maybe we branch out to hibiscus, jasmine, honeysuckle.”
“Where are you going to source those?” We had an abundance of each of those at Evergreen Academy, but I couldn’t share that information.
“I thought I could get a garden growing out at our house. Get it certified then do a farm-to-table kind of thing.”
She opened her purse and pulled out a paper-wrapped package. As she unfolded it, I spotted the bright pink of camellia. “Options are limited in the winter, but I’m going to experiment with these.”
“What are you going to do? Grind up the flowers?”
“I’m not sure yet,” my aunt admitted.
“I talked to Bryce while you were visiting his family,” I began, deciding it was as good a time as any to broach the subject. “He said you were talking about flowers a lot and putting bouquets all over his relative’s home.”
“Who doesn’t love flowers? They were all into it. Did he tell you I arranged the bouquets myself?”
“Is this a new hobby? You should have told me, and I would have had you help with the flower arrangements for your wedding.” I was still trying to keep my voice light.
“The hobby is a recent development. Come to think of it, I started getting interested in it after the wedding. Maybe it was the arrangements you made that triggered my interest.”
I frowned. My aunt had gone full steam ahead with projects before.
The bakery was a clear example of that. I had shrugged off Bryce’s concerns, but the new suggestion about making flower-flavored pastries was strange.
It seemed to have come out of nowhere, and the recipes she was proposing weren’t likely to have a large market.
As creative as she was, my aunt understood business.
“This interest started after the wedding? You’re not having any sort of post-wedding letdown, are you?” I echoed the concerns Bryce had expressed. They had been married for three months. Was my aunt having a hard time adjusting?
“Oh no! Nothing like that.” Aunt Vera waved a hand in a subtle motion, brushing off the idea.
“It’s just that suddenly, I’m noticing every flower I see.
I can’t pass them in a store without purchasing some.
It’s like they’re speaking to me. I swear they lean in my direction as if asking me to take them home.
” She let out a little laugh. “You probably think your aunt is going crazy.”
A nagging sensation tugged at my chest, and I inhaled sharply as something clicked.
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” I said, calling the words back over my shoulder as I went to retrieve one of the bouquets from the tables in the front room.
I had a preposterous theory, and there was one way to test it.
The blooms in the vase immediately leaned toward me as I gathered them.
When I returned to the back room, I set the bouquet on the table then stepped as far out of its range as I possibly could while monitoring them, my heart racing.
Once I was farther away from the flowers than my aunt was, I watched in astonishment as the blooms slowly reversed course, straightening then shifting so that every single bloom stretched directly toward my aunt Vera.
“See?” Aunt Vera said, glancing up at the blossoms. “Aren’t they beautiful? It’s like they’re displaying themselves just for me.”
Holy blossoms.
The flowers were drawn to my aunt. She had a floral affinity.
Aunt Vera was a magical botanist. And something had activated her powers.