Chapter 18
Eighteen
The way Mira’s days were busy from breakfast until well after dinner now, it was a bit of a blessing.
It left her with little to no time to ponder the implications of that uncouth thought about Yoni.
The way Mira privately wondered if she was as strong as she looked.
If she would finally let her guard down fully.
What it would take to get her there. No, she was not thinking much about that at all.
Thankfully, the following Friday Kayden joined them again, and otherwise, Mira barely saw Yoni during the week.
She should have been glad for it. It meant that the shop was going well, that she was busy restocking her supplies and learning new recipes, and even realising during chitchat at the till that the occasional customer had come from Greengrass or even Heartfield; people who had always bought Uncle Lochlin’s potions, and were hoping to find that same quality with hers.
Mira hoped so, too, though she did not say that out loud when she wrapped bottles and wished people a good day and a safe trip home.
The shop was so busy that she was ordering new supplies almost every time she went into town, to the point that Harper began suggesting they start talking about bulk orders.
“I don’t know.” Mira stared at the list of quantities and prices Harper had put on the counter. “That’s a lot.”
“You’ve gone through at least that already,” Harper pointed out. “I can pull out the order forms to check.”
“No, I know.” Mira chewed on her lip. She probably had, but this was still a commitment, and she wasn’t quite sure she was ready for that. “What if things just. Stop though?”
“Sure, but does it look like they will?”
“…no,” Mira admitted with a sigh. “No, you’re right, it makes sense.” She tapped a line on the list. “That’d cut the cost of bottles in half, and if you can get me a matching quantity of corks for the ones people return to me…”
Another list landed in front of her shortly. “Knock yourself out.” The bell chimed, and Harper moved away. “Excuse me.”
“Mhm.”
Mira leaned on the counter, going down the lists and making her own, scribbling her maths in the margins.
If the numbers held steady, and the cost went down that much, then she might just be able to pay her bills within just a few months.
Of course, if the honey also kept going up in price, though according to the almanac she’d consulted in the library, she was coming up on the primary season for some of her main ingredients, so those would be…
“…can’t promise you anything.”
Mira flinched a little when she realised that Cassia was speaking right next to her. She glanced up to find her leaning on the counter, looking sullen.
“There’s something up with the trees.”
“Really?” Harper pursed her lips. “People love plum season. The jams and the preserves, and you know Sabir has been experimenting with plum wine, he’s been meaning to ask you about it.”
“I know,” Cassia groaned. “Doesn’t change anything though. Looks like issues with the ground water, and we’ve been having problems with the well, too, so we can’t irrigate the way we need to.” She shrugged. “At this point we’re just holding out for more rain until this mess is fixed.”
“Is the pump still causing issues?” Mira asked. Cassia turned around, surprise on her face.
“Oh, hey Mira.” She nodded darkly. “The pump and everything else. We’re lucky if we don’t lose half the harvest this year.”
“I’m sorry to hear.” Once again, Mira wasn’t sure if she should ask. Or more to the point, what she should ask. This didn’t seem like a pump problem anymore. “If there’s anything you think might help… I could check the recipe books, maybe.”
Cassia chuckled. “Appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t think we can alchemy our way out of this.” Then, as if a switch flipped, a wide beam appeared on her face. “You know what would make my day though?” She sidled a little closer. “You know that Talent Night is coming up again…”
Suddenly frozen in place, Mira stared at her. “Yes? I, uh-”
“You’re free, right?” Cassia waggled her bushy eyebrows. “You can’t be busy every time.”
“That sounds like a good opportunity for a break,” Harper agreed, and Mira swore she could see the smirk hiding underneath that pleasant smile. “You’ve been working so hard.”
They had her cornered, and they knew it. She’d promised she’d attend – some time. Seemed like that time had now come. Rats.
“I can probably make it,” she said slowly. “I’m not sure though what I would do?”
“You write stuff, don’t you?” The beam was still there, still wide, still mildly threatening. “You could read a poem, I’m sure people would love that!”
A poem. “I’m more of as story writer.”
“Oh, it’ll be fine!” Cassia slapped Mira’s shoulder so hard her knees almost buckled. “It’ll be a fun challenge!”
Well. She had promised, and saying no now just seemed… mean.
“All right then.” Mira cleared her throat. “A poem. I’ll see what I can come up with.”
For the rest of the week, Mira successfully ignored the impending doom of Talent Night. Perhaps she played around with a few lines here and there. Wrote down a couple of notes about themes and imagery.
Which was a little less than ideal, because come Thursday, when she still had no poem ready to go, she sat down with said notes and a realisation.
“I’m going to write a damn love poem, aren’t I?”
Blooming rose of spring.
A caress on the breeze, gentle like your laughter.
Your arms a wall to keep out the night.
Surely, she could make that sound innocent. Perhaps simply a few verses about the beauty of summer. No need to mention the flowers in the garden, and the woman tending those flowers, and said woman’s nosy cat…
Head in her hands, Mira stared at the collection on her kitchen table.
Oh, she had a problem. She blinked, looking out the window and across the street, where Marigold was perched atop a fence post, meowing.
Just then, Yoni came into view, carrying a basket out of which the tell-tale white and red wrapping paper of one of Matteo’s pastries was peeking.
She stopped by the fence, affectionately scratching Marigold behind the ears.
The cat meowed again and flicked her tail.
Yoni said something, glancing over her shoulder.
In a flash of panic, Mira ducked low, though Yoni probably couldn’t see her.
That would just be creepy, staring at her from the window.
Mira waited, so tense that her shoulders were beginning to hurt when she finally peeked outside again. Woman and cat were nowhere to be seen. Mira exhaled in relief. Briefly, anyway, until the reality of the situation caught up with her again.
Yup. Definitely a problem.
Talent Night was somewhat of a misnomer.
It began in the early evening on Saturday, just after the dinner crowd had finished up.
Mira had arrived early enough to find Matteo clearing a space at the end of the room and putting up a tiny makeshift stage in the form of several large bricks and a few sturdy planks laid across them.
Emilia came out the back, carrying a microphone, a small, gleaming sphere holding the amplification spell surrounded by a brass cone.
It looked a little older than the ones Mira had seen at the bars in Willow Harbour, but she had no doubt that it would carry her poem into every last corner of the inn.
She’d almost turned tail and run when Emilia spotted her.
“Mira! So glad you could make it!” A mischievous grin. “Cassia is so happy to finally see you here. Why don’t you go and find a table, we’ll be full pretty soon. I’ll put you on the list for the stage, should be shortly after the break.”
And so Mira once again found that she had no choice. At least she had her pick of seats, and chose one in a corner, where she would be as invisible as possible after embarrassing herself on stage. The folded paper in her pocket crinkled, and she felt her cheeks grow hot. What was she even thinking?
“Mira! You’re really here!”
Cassia swept past the couple that taught the students at the town hall and helped herself to a chair before Mira could even reply.
“I thought you might skip town again!”
“I-” Mira cleared her throat. “I didn’t skip town. I had somewhere to be.”
“Sure you did.”
Cassia leaned on the table, her long sleeves dragging along the floor. She was wearing a voluminous dress that looked suspiciously like the curtains Mira had seen in the Bakers’ living room window, and a tiara made of twigs and decorated with flowers.
“So what are you showing off?”
“I’m not showing off,” Mira muttered. She took a deep breath. “The poem you mentioned.”
“Yes, I know. What kind of poem?”
Mira managed a coy smile. She would not give Cassia any extra ammunition for teasing her. “Well, you’ll have to figure that out for yourself, won’t you? That’s half the fun of poetry.” She gestured at the tiara and the dress. “What’s this all about?”
“Oh, my fancy gown?” Cassia lifted an arm and shook the sleeve, which Mira suspected had been a bed sheet not too long ago.
“Have you ever been to the opera? The man I was seeing before I moved back here used to take me. A right dandy, that one. I like the music, so tonight, I’m singing an aria.
I figured it would be fun to have a dress to match.
It’s sung by a princess lamenting her lost love.
Hamish agreed to learn it, he’s accompanying me on his violin.
” Her eyes went wide. “Oh, speaking of, I need to find him! We’re up second…
third? Pretty early. I’ll be right back! ”
She almost toppled the chair when she got up and sauntered off into the rapidly growing crowd.