Chapter Two
Lilith
Lilith sagged against the counter at Shelver’s after showing the fourth customer that day where Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil was located—in the section conveniently titled “Local Interest” where stacks of the popular book were on prominent display.
She scrubbed a hand over her face, as if she could swipe away the veil of fatigue.
Lord, she needed sleep.
One of the resident cats padded to the front room and looked miserably up at her, his stomach gurgling audibly. She knew that
sound when it came to Fred.
A noxious odor filled the room.
Suddenly wide awake, Lilith snatched him up and rushed him to the back room where she discovered his food bowl was full of
the crunchy X-shaped cat food. Not his prescription food.
“No, no, no, no…”
She quickly swapped out the food as the new girl entered the back room. Debbie’s nose wrinkled. “What’s that smell?”
“Fred got the wrong food.” Lilith dumped a couple scoops of Happy Gastronomy into a fresh bowl. “I left you a note about it
last night.”
Debbie shook her head. “I didn’t see a note.”
Tamping down her frustration, Lilith replied, “I left it on the counter.”
Like, smack dab in the middle of the counter, written in thick black sharpie.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see it.” Debbie frowned down at Fred and gave him an apologetic stroke. He nuzzled against her and all
was forgiven.
Lilith set the right bowl of food in front of him and left them both to return to the cash register.
Guilt trailed after her.
She had written the note, right?
In her mind’s eye, she recalled the bold black letters on a hot-pink sticky note. But at the counter, there was no note. Not
on the floor or stuck to a nearby book or even crumpled up in the trash can.
Maybe she hadn’t written it after all…
Her sleepless nights were getting the better of her.
“Hey, Lilith,” Essie sang out as she navigated her stroller over the threshold of the store. Amara jostled in her seat, unperturbed
as she plucked a Cheerio from a spill-proof plastic bowl.
Lilith glanced at her watch and grinned at her best friend. “Exactly 2:30 on the dot.”
Essie pumped her fist victoriously. “Right on time.”
From the stroller, Amara lifted her hands to Lilith, who obliged, pulling the girl into her arms. Little beads at the ends
of Amara’s braids clacked together as she did so.
“Your braids are so beautiful.” Lilith snuggled her goddaughter closer.
Amara beamed at the praise. The story time bell chimed and she wriggled out of Lilith’s arms, making a beeline for the children’s
room.
“That girl knows what she wants.” Essie shook her head, even as her warm brown eyes glowed with pride. Together, Lilith and
Essie followed Amara’s quick steps to the back of the store.
A pulse of longing echoed in Lilith’s chest. She ached to know her own place in the world as surely as her friend did. As
even little Amara seemed to. Essie had always been driven to achieve what she wanted for as long as Lilith had known her,
back when they became neighbors after Essie’s parents died and she moved in with her grandmother. Her childhood hadn’t been
easy, but now Essie had it all, and she’d worked hard to have it all: a handsome husband, a loving child, a flourishing law career.
“Aren’t the braids just so cute?” Essie settled onto the colorful carpet with Amara in her line of sight.
Lilith recalled Essie’s hair in those same braids, pink and white beads clicking melodiously every time she moved her head.
Her hair was natural now, a halo of curls worn like a regal crown on her head. Lilith glanced at where Amara sat with her
back straight, full attention fixed on Debbie who cradled the day’s book in her hands. “I can’t believe how big Amara is getting.”
Essie folded her legs crisscross. “And I can’t believe how tired you look.”
Lilith shot her friend a look of playful injury. “Ouch.” She sank to the floor beside Essie, unable to ignore the slight hum
of the earth beneath her, even through the flooring and the kid-friendly carpet.
“You know I’m all honesty and tough love,” Essie said with a beatific smile.
And she really was. She always had been ready to offer advice at any moment throughout their friendship. Whether wanted or not. Advice that was, in hindsight, always needed.
From the front of the room, Debbie opened a book about a pig wearing a raincoat and began to read.
“Is it the nightmares?” Essie asked quietly.
Lilith nodded.
Essie frowned. “Still?”
Another resident cat slid against Lilith’s shin. Brutus was an orange tabby who liked to chase his own tail and tease the
kids desperate to pet him before he performed a disappearing act. She stroked a hand over his face and rubbed behind his ears
as a purr rumbled to life. “The other things too,” she added in a soft voice. “Like the honeysuckle bush and the weird weather.
It’s all since Mama died.”
“You need to get out from under her control, Lil.” Essie set a hand on Lilith’s arm, her nails a freshly painted coral red.
“She’s gone. She can’t hurt you anymore. You need to move on, make a plan for your life.”
Lilith sucked in a breath, hating how even the reminder of her mother’s rage could sting. How much she still let those biting
words crumple her confidence.
“There’s a full-time position available here.” Essie bumped her shoulder against Lilith’s. “I saw the flyer when I walked
in.”
Amara looked over her shoulder through a crowd of other children and found her mother’s gaze. Essie waved and Amara grinned
before turning back to the story.
“Several people have already interviewed for the position.” Lilith shrugged and scratched Brutus under the chin. “I didn’t
feel like throwing my hat in the ring. Besides, I like working part-time here. It’s about all the people-ing I can stand in
a week.”
“Well, you don’t need the money.” Essie winked. “Maybe you should consider going back to school?”
It was true—between both parents’ life insurances and a terrific financial planner, Lilith didn’t have to work. Ever again, if she didn’t want to.
Still, she hated this conversation. The gentle, nudging reminders of how her life had stagnated.
At twenty-six, she had no purpose, nothing to aspire to. Honestly, she didn’t even want a husband or kids. A decision that
everyone had an opinion on, which they had to voice. As if her sole purpose as a woman should be to get hitched and pop out
babies.
Kate Chopin’s The Awakening always blossomed in her thoughts during such moments. “The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice
must have strong wings.”
Only she didn’t have strong wings. She had little chicken wings, plucked bald by Mama.
Being a godmother was as close to motherhood as Lilith cared to be. And before Mama got sick, Lilith’s pathetic time at Georgia
State University had only amounted to wasted money and precious few passed classes. Mama was right, she didn’t have the chops
for pre-law.
But without Mama to care for, without school to attend, Lilith was unmoored, floating through life without purpose.
Essie patted Lilith’s hand and took a deep breath, as if she meant to say something, but decided against it.
“What?” Lilith asked.
Indecision crossed Essie’s features. “I have a suggestion, but it’s…”
“It’s what?”
“Woo-woo.”
Lilith cut a side glance at her friend.
“I know, I know.” Essie held out her hands, palms up in acknowledgment. “There’s a fortune teller on Montgomery Street.”
Lilith immediately shook her head. “You know how I feel about that.”
That.
The supernatural.
Magic.
“Because your mama made you feel that way.” Essie’s expression softened. “She’s gone now, Lilith. Maybe you should lean into
it a little more. Remember how when you first told me about the honeysuckle, how you thought there might be purpose in it?
That all this weirdness happening to you is like the world trying to tell you something?”
Lilith rolled her eyes before sliding a grin toward Essie. “I really should stop oversharing with you.”
But the playful comment didn’t put Essie off. Not when she knew Lilith so well.
Essie glanced around before speaking in a whisper. “Do you remember how the wind would pick up when you were mad? How you
always knew the moon was out, even if we weren’t near a single window?”
Lilith scoffed. “We were kids, hopped up on stories like Bayou Magic and sneak watching The Craft. Which, by the way, we really were way too young to be watching. Our imaginations were on overdrive.”
“Oh, we were definitely too young to be watching The Craft.” Essie gave a wicked grin. “But it wasn’t just our imaginations.” Her smile slipped away. “What about that honeysuckle growing
back as soon as your mama died? What about how you said you can hear the earth? What about… What about your daddy?”
The pain at those words was as fresh and raw as a decade before when Daddy had gone to work and never come home. When Mama
had blamed her.
Essie pulled out her phone, glossy nails catching the light as her fingers flew over the screen. Lilith’s phone vibrated in
her back pocket.
Essie casually slid her phone back into her purse. “I just sent you the link for the store.”
Lilith pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen with a groan. “‘Enchanted’? Really?”
“Those dreams don’t sound natural, and there is a part of yourself you’ve been denying your whole life.” Essie shrugged a
shoulder. “Maybe it’s time to explore now that your mama isn’t here to stop you.”
Before Lilith could argue again, story time ended, and Essie was already helping Amara into her stroller. A quick hug later
and they were gone, bumping through the doorway, Cheerios sprinkling out like confetti. Not to be seen again until story time
next Saturday.
A young woman approached Lilith with a book in hand. “Can you ring me up, please?”
She handed Lilith a copy of Practical Magic, the very title she and Essie had pored over their freshman year in high school. The cover was warm, a slight unmistakable
tingle against her fingertips.
Recognition stirred, delicate as the brush of a butterfly’s wing. Maybe it was nothing. But maybe it was everything.
Because with that whisper of recognition came the tease of hope, that she might explore what had for so long been forbidden.
“Of course.” Lilith ventured back to the cash register to ring the woman up, working around Brutus as he tried to rub his
face against her hands.
When the customer left, Lilith glanced down at Essie’s text again.
Enchanted.
She was right—of course—maybe there was something to the dreams. And if so, maybe the time had come for Lilith to finally
explore the supernatural.