“I didn’t did dat!” #2
Amongst the four of them—Luna, Nigel, and the two aunties—they had figured out a consistent childcare routine.
Luna and the aunties took turns as Tea Witch in House at The Arcane Bouquet.
Luna still served the Silly Young Things, who loved her with a devotion which bordered on fanatical.
But Arabella and Aurora both had their own clientele, who swore by their readings and could bear to be scried by no one else.
A few years back, the two sisters had moved into the apartment above the shop, declaring that they wished for a chance to taste the excitement of Big City Life.
This had worked out rather well, as the bedrooms in Tealeaf Cottage were fast filling up.
Nigel took most afternoons off from work at the shop to spend with the children out in Garden.
The Arcane Bouquet was closed on weekends as well.
He and Luna would while away their Saturdays foraging and preparing teas, Baby Tea strapped to Nigel’s back, while the older children explored the rolling grounds.
Garden always kept them out of trouble, and there were endless adventures to be had.
Sunday, of course, was for chantry services and long afternoon naps.
There was a beauty to the rhythm and routine of life, a sort of music, Nigel felt. A song with infinite variations which he could imagine enjoying for a lifetime to come.
They reached the green door with its peeling paint at last. The double-delight arched around it, having taken up residence there and blooming in great profusion, so that the door no longer seemed to stand in the middle of nowhere, but in the center of a massive rose-wall.
She nodded her bright blooms cordially to Nigel and Arabella as they approached.
Alfie and Loni had already burst through into the passage beyond, leaving the door standing wide open, which they knew they were not supposed to do.
Nigel sighed, but figured he’d spare them a scolding this time.
Since it was Green Yule. They were excited to bring Mummy the new ornaments, after all, and he couldn’t fault them for that.
Nigel held the door politely for Arabella, who stepped through, calling out, “Rory! Fetch out the glasses, I’ve brought the sherry!”
Pausing for a moment, Baby Tea on his hip, Nigel gazed back out into Garden.
He took in the sight of those rolling grounds, those magnificent vistas.
Those groves and secret shrubberies and walkways and ponds.
All lusher, greener, richer, more glorious than anything even his father could have imagined.
From where he stood, he could see the Heart Tree, tall and proud in the distance.
Years ago, Luna had taken to harvesting the apples from its boughs, breaking the long-standing tradition Nigel had maintained of never eating its fruit.
She’d declared that time was over, insisting that Nigel’s mother would want her favorite Ruby Delights to be enjoyed by her children and grandchildren.
Nigel believed she was right. And from where he stood in the doorway, he was fairly certain he could smell a Ruby Delight apple pie baking in the shop kitchen.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for everything.”
And the wind picked up, blowing a sumptuous bouquet of perfumes in his face. And he could feel the whisper of Garden’s gratitude in return.
Nigel took care to lock the door carefully behind him.
If there was a secret worth protecting in his life, it was the secret of Garden.
Granted, the Brotherhood was no more, and, as far as he knew, there weren’t any ongoing plots among the remaining sorcerous circles that should concern him. Still, it didn’t hurt to be careful.
So he locked the door, tucked the key into his trouser pocket. Then, bouncing Baby Tea happily, he stepped out of the passage and into the shop, only to stop and gaze around him with surprise and delight.
Everything looked so beautiful. Luna had been hard at work ever since closing time to get the shop floor just so for their annual Green Yule party.
He’d helped with much of it, stringing up garlands and twinkling white lights wherever he’d been told.
But her finishing touches were really what pulled it all together, particularly the enchanted, heatless candles tucked into every nook and cranny.
The Winter’s Heart Tree, grown specially by Garden, stood proudly by the window. The children were already there, stringing up their newly-baked ornaments. “No, Loni!” he heard his wife cry out in dismay. “You can’t eat the—Oh dear. Spit it out, sweetheart. Yes, into my hand. Ugh.”
Luna appeared from the far side of the tree and caught his eye across the shop.
Making a crinkle-nose face and holding out her hand in front of her, she came toward him.
Nigel watched her with great pleasure, admiring her graceful walk, the way her red holiday dress clung to her curves.
Her figure had stubbornly refused to “snap back” after the third baby, something which he knew was a source of frustration to her.
But by gods, did he love seeing her with a little meat on her bones and a healthy flush to her cheeks!
She was, as she always had been in his eyes, utter perfection.
Even with her hand full of half-chewed tree ornament and her mouth twisted in an expression of distaste.
She hastened to the trimming sink, where she proceeded to wash her hand off.
This accomplished, she turned and planted a kiss, first on Baby Tea’s soft cheek, then a more lingering kiss on Nigel’s lips.
She tasted like orange blossoms, her auspicious tea of the past year.
Not much longer now, and she’d be choosing the New Year’s tea.
Nigel secretly hoped for a reprise of chamomile-lavender.
“My dear,” he said, smiling at her when she drew back, “you’ve worked miracles in here this evening.”
“Why, thank you, Handsome!” she replied, patting his chest and flushing with pleasure.
Then she tapped his tiepin with one finger and gave him a stern look.
“Now, I’m giving you fair warning . . . it got out.
I tried to stop it! I swear I did! But it’s in here somewhere, and I have no doubt it intends to pounce at some point in the evening. ”
Nigel’s face fell. He heaved a great sigh. “I could hunt it down—”
“No, no!” Luna took hold of his tie, giving him a tug so that his face came down close to hers. She planted a kiss on his nose. “I won’t have any violence on Green Yule. You’re to behave yourself. Understood?”
“Will I get pie later on if I behave?”
“You’ll get many sweet delights later on if you behave,” she said with a wink that heated his blood.
Before he could take action, however, she swiped the baby and said, “I’ll just nip back to the kitchen with this one for a minute.
See that some of those decorations make it to the topmost branches, won’t you? ”
To the trill of baby coos, his wife darted down the passage to take care of maternal necessities, while Nigel betook himself to the front of the shop.
Auntie Aurora and Auntie Arabella sat at one of the wrought iron tables, already well into toasting the season.
Auntie Aurora raised her glass to him as he passed, and solemnly declared, “The Green Mother's blessing rests most readily upon the cheerful heart.”
“Amen to that, Auntie,” Nigel replied.
With a rasping cry of “Never mind!” Debbie flapped from her skull-pot at the counter, passing over Nigel’s shoulder.
She snubbed him entirely, in fact, and perched instead on the top of Loni’s head.
She’d taken quite a fancy to the child, and Loni was uncharacteristically gentle with the old bird.
She solemnly handed her un-chewed ornaments, and Debbie fluttered up to hang them on the higher branches, rendering Nigel’s services unnecessary.
He stood back to survey his children’s handiwork. The tree was quite festooned already, positively glittering under the white lights. But Nigel frowned. Something seemed to be missing. “Alfie,” he said, “where is Baron Von Sniffington?”
Alfie looked up from the box of ornaments, his eyes widening. “Baron!” he cried.
An answering whine sounded almost at once. Alfie dropped to his knees, crawling over to peer under one of the display tables, which had been pushed to the edges of the shop to create a dance floor. “Daddy!” the boy called out in dismay. “The tiger lilies got him pinned down again!”
Nigel crouched beside his son. Sure enough, the poor black-and-white dog cowered under one of the tables, whining pathetically, tail tucked, while a pack of vicious lilies slowly stalked him, growling with undisguised menace.
“Hey!” Nigel barked, channeling his best former-Dark-Sorcerer voice. “None of that now!”
The tiger lilies hissed and scattered at once, leaving behind a flurry of orange petals and a few stray leaves. Baron Von Sniffington crept out and hastened to his boy’s arms, still trembling. “Poor old Baron!” Alfie crooned, rocking him tenderly.
“Why don’t you take him back to Garden,” Nigel suggested. “You can stop in the kitchen on your way. I’ll bet Mummy’s got a treat or two for him back there.”
Alfie nodded and carried his canine pal away with him.
Right about then, the shop bells rang, and the first of the guests arrived.
Nigel moved to greet them, surprised to find himself face to face with none other than the intrepid Miss Eugenia Lambert, travel-writer and adventurer.
She was accompanied by her publisher and definitely not boyfriend, the ever-so-dashing Mr. Bellamy of Bellamy House Press. And Sutton, of course.