Chapter 6 #2
“You did,” Pop says soothingly. “You did exactly what she asked. You kept Harrison safe.”
“We did,” Dad corrects, and even though I can’t currently see Dad, I do see the familiar, affectionate smile Pop sends in his direction. It makes me unbearably homesick.
“Your cards are in the cupboard by the armchair.”
“No, not those ones. I want the Ceridwen deck. It’s more accurate for specific questions.” I can hear his voice getting fainter, as if he’s still talking while walking out of the room, then Pops sighs.
“I’d better go and help him before he gets himself all worked up.”
“Okay,” I mutter. I miss them both so much, but deep down in my gut, I know I can’t go home, not yet. “Give him a hug for me and tell him not to worry.”
“I could tell him that, but he’s going to worry regardless.” Pop exhales. “Look, Harry, I want you to be careful, okay? Call and keep us up-to-date with what’s happening, and if you need us, we’re only two hours away.”
“Pop, it’s a four-hour drive to London,” I remind him.
“Not the way I drive when my kid needs me.”
I huff out a quiet laugh. “You might need to sedate Dad if you’re planning on driving like that. Do you remember what happened when you were driving on the autobahn in Germany?”
“How often do I get to drive on a road with no speed limits?”
I smile and let out a slow breath. “Love you, Pop.”
“Love you too, sweetheart,” he replies softly. “Call if you need us, okay?”
“I promise.”
“Alright, I’ll talk to you soon.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up. My tea has long gone cold, so I tip it down the sink and rinse out the cup. I don’t have time to make another one; I still need to get dressed and open the shop. Pushing aside the homesickness, I head out of the kitchen towards my bedroom.
It’s just after lunch when Tristan, the pretty young man with wild curls and glasses who seems to be inordinately comfortable in the company of ghosts, wanders into my shop. I watch from my comfortable chair in the corner of the store, my book once again open in my lap.
I shouldn’t have been surprised to see him again so soon, but I don’t really know what to say. My people skills are not so much rusty as woefully underdeveloped.
Soft, soothing music fills the air along with the scent of herbs and candles as he peruses the glass display cabinets of crystals and tarot decks.
“Back again so soon, Tristan?” I finally say, shifting his attention from an ornate athame.
He turns to look at me, seemingly surprised at finding me watching him.
“Um.” His cheeks flush slightly, and he pushes his glasses back into place as they slip down the bridge of his nose. “You remember my name?”
“You’re rather hard to forget,” I reply mildly. “I don’t get many people infested with spirits in my shop.”
“Hardly infested,” he scoffs, and I have to wonder how unusual his life is that getting trapped in his own body with a deceased drag queen didn’t really register with him as a reason to panic.
“Where are your disembodied sidekick and your deceased duckling?”
“Do you mean Mrs Abernathy?” he asks. I assume he means the little old lady and nod.
“Dusty and I managed to figure out her unfinished business in the end. She crossed into the light with her true love. As for Dusty—” He pauses.
“Actually, I have no idea where she is right now. She has a tendency to just show up.”
Eyes narrowed slightly, I stare at him, my fingers absently tapping out a restless beat against the pages of the book laid open in my lap. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to say thank you,” Tristan replies with a small smile.
“You have already,” I point out.
“Yes, I know, but…when I was here last week, everything was so crazy, and I feel like I didn’t properly convey how much I appreciated your help. I don’t know how Dusty and I would have been able to separate ourselves if it hadn’t been for you.”
“I told you, it’s fine.” I pick up my book again, hoping he’ll go away.
I’m really not feeling very sociable today.
My mind is still too full of thinking about everything that’s happened recently.
However, instead of taking the hint, he steps closer.
I huff in annoyance and put my book down once more.
“What now? Did you want to purchase an athame?” I nod towards the ceremonial knife he’d been looking at earlier. “A scrying bowl? A spell?”
“No,” he says mildly. “I wanted to say thank you properly. I’d like to take you to dinner. Not like a date or anything,” he adds quickly when one of my brows quirks. “I mean, with me and my boyfriend Danny. He’ll be there too, and you can meet him.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Because although Danny doesn’t technically know about the whole body-swap slash body mash-up debacle at the moment, I don’t want to keep this part of my life secret from him, and that includes the people who are a part of it.”
I stare at him in confusion. “I’m not a part of your life though. We’re not friends.”
“But we could be.” It may be my imagination, but he seems a little nervous when he says that.
“Friends, I mean. I’d like to get to know you.
You’re the first real witch I’ve ever come across.
I didn’t even think magic was real, but the lightning thing I saw you do with your hands”—I roll my eyes when he lifts his hands and wriggles his fingers in a frankly ridiculous manner—“I think you’re fascinating. ”
My back stiffens and my shoulders tense. “I’m not some specimen or side-show curiosity to be ogled.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He rubs his forehead and takes another deep breath.
“I’m not very good at this, as you can probably tell.
Look, I want to say thank you. I appreciate what you did for me.
I thought dinner would be nice. I could introduce you to Danny, and maybe we could get to know each other and be friends.
Really, that’s it. I honestly don’t have any ulterior motive. ”
Part of me doesn’t know what to do with his invitation, but the other part of me yearns to accept. It’s probably not a good idea. I came to London for a specific reason, and I don’t want to get distracted.
“Thank you, but I don’t need any friends,” I say as politely as possible.
“Harrison,” he says softly. “May I call you Harrison?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You always have a choice.” He chuckles. “Would you like to come to dinner with me and Danny? Our treat. It’s not just a thank-you for saving my arse, but I genuinely want to talk to you.”
I experience that strange tug inside me again, some long-forgotten instinct. A feeling that I’m supposed to know this curious man somehow.
I sigh. “Are you going to keep hounding me until I agree?”
“Is that a yes?” Tristan’s smile widens.
I eye him suspiciously, my belly churning with nerves. “Just the three of us? Me, you, and your boyfriend?”
Tristan nods, his eyes bright and his smile wide, as if he can sense my imminent acquiescence.
“Fine,” I huff begrudgingly. “And stop smiling at me like that.”
“I can’t help it.” He beams. “I’m so pleased. I’ll text you the time and place as soon as I’ve booked a table for tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“I’m not giving you a chance to change your mind,” he declares resolutely. “And if you try to back out, I’ll send Dusty over to convince you. Trust me, she has an exhaustive list of karaoke hits to perform, and she never gets tired.”
I stare at him dryly. “You wouldn’t.”
“I’ll text you,” he calls over his shoulder and heads for the door.
“You don’t have my number.” I scowl.
“I do. I have the magic card thingy you gave me.”
“I didn’t actually give it to you–”
“But I still have it.” He gives a little wave and practically skips out of the door before I can utter another word.
Why do I get the distinct feeling something is about to change?
And why do I feel like that may not be a good thing?