Chapter 3
By the time Julia came in to work, Sabrina had nearly rebuilt the duck with the help of her favorite ceramics glue and a lot of patience. Each time she added a new piece and was able to join it seamlessly, it felt like a win. It also quieted the curse. For a little while.
“Hey, Sabrina,” Julia said. “And hello, Mr. Trip.”
He was on his shelf, snoozing. The flicker of his ears was the only acknowledgement that he’d heard his name.
“How’s the day been?” Julia asked.
“Pretty typical,” Sabrina answered, trying to play it cool. “But I might have a job coming in from Amelia Marchand.”
“The Amelia Marchand?” Julia’s eyes went wide. “Merciful moonlight. That could be major.”
“I know.” She grinned.
“Do you think I’ll get to meet her?”
Julia was a witch, although due to her curse that made her spells wonky and her magic basically useless, she wasn’t practicing.
Sabrina felt for her. “Maybe, if she comes into the shop. But I need to head over there now and take a look at the item. It’s an antique music box.
From the photo, it looks like it just needs some cleaning, painting, and new gilding.
Anyway, nothing I can’t handle. You’ll be all right by yourself, won’t you? ”
Julia stuck her purse under the counter. “I won’t be alone. I’ll have Trip.”
“True,” Sabrina said. “And he is very good at customer service.” She grabbed her purse. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Take your time,” Julia said. “It would be great to get that job.”
“Yes, it would.” Sabrina gave Trip a quick scratch. “You be a good boy while I’m gone.” Then she waved at Julia and headed out.
As soon as she was in her car, she dialed the number Beckett had given her.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Moreau.”
She blinked. She hadn’t said her name. Maybe the house had caller ID? But she hadn’t given him her number, either. “Um, hi. Is this Beckett?”
“It is. Are you on your way over?”
“I am. Just wanted to let you know.”
“We’ll be waiting.”
“Great. See you soon.” She hung up and stared through her windshield. This could be the opportunity she’d been waiting for. A few nerves danced over her skin. She’d be fine. She was good at fixing things, at making the old look new again.
She’d never gotten her hands on anything this expensive or important, but a broken object was still a broken object. Unless it was repaired, it had very little worth. Other than sentimental. And Amelia had just bought the music box, so she couldn’t be sentimental about it.
That didn’t give Sabrina the comfort she’d been hoping for, but it would all work out. She had to believe that.
She started the car and pulled away from the curb.
There was no need to set her GPS. Pretty much everyone in town knew where Amelia Marchand lived.
Sabrina and Julia had driven by it more than once, hoping to find something good out by the curb.
Something that could be repaired and sold in the shop.
They’d yet to find anything, but there were a lot of other houses in town that hauled things curbside they no longer wanted or could use.
Didn’t take Sabrina long to get there and she was soon pulling through the iron gates and onto the driveway at Indigo House.
What an incredibly impressive place it was. Creamy stucco, dark blue roof, gorgeous landscaping, and a set of glass double doors that probably cost more than Sabrina had made in her whole life. Or maybe the glittering blue-black stone tigers that flanked the double doors were more expensive.
At this house, it was hard to say. Everything here was probably super high-end, custom-designed, or a priceless antique.
Amelia must have really wanted the music box to buy it when it wasn’t in great shape.
Sabrina turned off the engine, nerves suddenly worse than they’d been.
She did her best to stay calm as she grabbed her purse and made her way to the front doors.
She frowned at her reflection in the wavy blue glass of the doors.
She could have done better than jeans and a secondhand twin set.
The blue-and-tan striped tank top and cardigan had looked so cute on display at the Bargain Bin. She wasn’t so sure now.
Before she could knock, one of the doors opened and Beckett stood there, smiling. “Hello, Miss Moreau. Welcome to Indigo House.”
“Thanks.” Even that single word had come out a little shaky. She cleared her throat. “Please, call me Sabrina.”
“Don’t be nervous, Sabrina,” Beckett said.
Sabrina just swallowed and nodded.
“Follow me.” He backed away and gestured toward the house’s interior.
She stepped inside. And exhaled. She’d never been in a house like this. It was breathtaking. The foyer was a towering rotunda with wrought iron balconies that looked down from the second floor.
Wide molding separated the dark hardwood floors from the crisp white walls.
At the ceiling, there was more crown molding, wide and detailed.
The house was decorated with antiques galore.
Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the oil paintings on the walls and brought to life the colors of the elaborately woven silk rugs underfoot.
It was a monument to what money could buy. The kind of life it could give a person with a longing for things of the past.
It was like stepping into a different time, in a way. A time when things were valued and cherished and taken care of. The faint smell of furniture wax brought a smile to Sabrina’s face. Amelia made sure her antiques were well looked after.
That was enough to give Sabrina a sense of kinship with the woman.
Beckett led her deeper into the house and down a hallway to a sitting room. He went in ahead of her. “Sabrina Moreau, ma’am.”
Sabrina walked through the door into yet another gorgeous room. The highly polished wood floors had been laid in a herringbone pattern that gave the large space a more intimate feel. Closest to her was a seating area and a wall of shelves filled with books and objects.
At the far end, a small fire crackled in the large, carved stone fireplace. In front of it was another seating area. An older woman sat in one of the chairs. Her colorful kaftan and sparkling jewelry gave her an air of importance.
Beckett stood between them. “Amelia Marchand.”
Sabrina nodded, slightly in awe. “Hello.”
Amelia gestured to the sofa nearest her. “Please, join me.”
Sabrina made her way over. Despite how expensively decorated the house was, it still had an easiness and a personality about it. Not like it had been designed to impress anyone. More like Amelia had surrounded herself with the things that made her happy.
Sabrina took a seat. “Your home is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Amelia said. “Tea? Coffee? Water?”
“Um, tea would be great.”
Amelia looked at Beckett.
He nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you for coming,” Amelia said. “That’s the music box on the table.”
Sabrina nodded. She’d already noticed it. Hard not to as there was nothing else on the table. The colors were richer than they’d been in the picture she’d seen. “It’s lovely.”
“I agree. Shame it’s not in better condition, but it was created in 1889. I suppose some wear and tear is to be expected.”
Sabrina reached for it, then stopped herself. “May I?”
“By all means. I can’t expect you to fix a thing without touching it, can I?”
Carefully, Sabrina picked up the music box.
It was heavy. She turned it, studying the little painted scenes.
The music box called to her, to that need inside her that couldn’t ignore a broken thing.
In her mind’s eye, she saw herself repainting the box, adding fresh gilding, bringing it back to life so that it could be loved and adored for another hundred years.
It would be beautiful once again. “I can refurbish this.”
Amelia smiled. “You haven’t even opened it.”
“You’re right. Of course.” She set the box back on the table and lifted the round lid.
As the lid opened, a small platform rose up. In the center was a gorgeous little bird with blue and green feathers, all made of painted metal with tiny glass eyes.
Amelia sighed. “It should sing and flutter its wings, and I think it even moves its head, but I’ve tried the key and while the bird lifts up, nothing else happens. I can’t wait until it has life again. All I ask is that you do not touch the magic in the box.”
“No, of course not.”
“Wonderful,” Amelia said. “How long do you think it’ll take to get it in proper working order?”
A sinking feeling nearly pulled Sabrina to the floor. Mechanics were not her specialty. She didn’t know the first thing about moving parts. “I, um …”
“You can fix it, can’t you?”
Sabrina needed this job. She needed the money, and her business needed the boost. But it was more than that. She’d had the box in her hands. Her compulsion for broken things wouldn’t let her say no. She had to fix this. She had to give it life again.
So she smiled and nodded. “Of course I can.”