Chapter 17
True to my word, I prepared Linda’s tea while the cookies were in the oven.
I’d reached the stage where updating Cosmo while snipping, shredding, and measuring herbs and dried petals were no longer mutually exclusive.
The road to witchcraft mastery might be long and winded, but I’d left the starting blocks far behind.
“Is that a little smugness I detect?” Cosmo asked when I’d ended my report and wrote out a label with instructions for the tin. I’d checked my aunt’s notes for the highest allowed dosage, when the hot flashes threatened to melt the brain.
“I think I’m allowed to be proud of myself once in a while. I spent what felt like an eternity with Linda last night and not once did it cross my mind to be anything but kind and helpful.”
“A remarkable feat of self-control.” He sniggered. “It seems like only yesterday when you cast your first spells and bounced chestnuts off her head.”
I shrugged the memory off. “You can’t blame a newly minted witch if she gets carried away, and I’ve kept myself in check ever since, haven’t I?”
“You have indeed, more or less. And you’re making remarkable progress with your learning.”
To my embarrassment, I couldn’t help but stand a little taller. Cosmo Merlin de Beaufort was not prone to idle compliments, and praising me twice in a a week must be a record.
I ended the instructions with a small flourish, with seconds to spare before I had to yank the cookie sheets out of the oven.
While they cooled off, I changed into a flour-less sweater and jeans.
Cosmo raced ahead of me to the library, but he didn’t have to balance two boxes with cookies and a tin with tea. In hindsight, a carrier bag might have been useful.
I refilled the jars and put the one with the magical treats safely out of sight. Only the ordinary jar stood openly available in the coffee and tea corner. I’d been playing around with different layouts, to put my personal stamp on the library, and to maximize Cosmo’s comfort.
The easier he could jump onto the counter while staying far enough from the mugs and plates to satisfy pernickety customers, the better he liked it. Personally, I’d become used to the occasional hair on my plate. After all, all pets were magical beings in their own right.
I was testing the library stamp on a piece of paper to see that the inkpad wasn’t drying out when Linda stalked in.
The spell had worn off completely, as expected, and the hot flash appeared to have returned with a vengeance.
Sweat beaded her temples and her mascara had smudged, as if she’d applied it with an unsteady hand.
“You need tea,” I said.
“That’s why I’m here. Where is it?”
I detected desperation behind her rudeness. “I’ve got your mixture ready, but what I was trying to say is, you need a cup now. And a cookie. Sit down in the reading nook and I’ll bring both over.”
My smugness level rose to a new height as she tottered off as instructed and I brewed her beverage.
For myself, I poured a coffee. A tiny voice in my head whispered that I was showing off, because I was due a dose of my Midlife Magic brew myself, but I didn’t want to show Linda that I, too, needed the occasional leg up in the battle against perimenopause.
I ignored the voice. I’d never said I was perfect.
The tea and cookie were, though. One of each should be enough to relax Linda for the rest of the day.
She eyed the cranberry and pecan cookie as if it might jump up and bite her. “That’s a lot of calories.”
“It’ll do you good.”
“That’s easy for you to say, with your extra padding.” She patted her hips which were jutting out more than they had a few months ago.
Suddenly, I no longer cared about self-control, or Cosmo’s approval.
“You’re calling me fat.”
“I didn’t say that.”
I whisked away her tea and cookie. “One tip for the future, if you want anyone to do you a favor, it’s smart not to insult or belittle them whenever you open your filler-enhanced mouth.”
She gasped.
“You may not like me, heck, you’ve never liked me since I started high school and you took so much trouble to make me miserable.”
“I did no such thing.” She lowered her lashes to avoid my angry gaze.
“The worst thing is, I have no idea what you’re getting out of this. It’s not as if being mean makes you happy.”
“Stop it.” Her lip wobbled. “And can I please have the tea?”
“Only if you apologize.”
“I’m sorry, Bex. I was only teasing.”
“Hmm.” Nevertheless, I returned the tea and cookie to her.
She took a nibble, to appease me. “It’s just – everybody thought you were so wonderful. Such a good student, always helpful, a real trooper, that’s what my dad called you. You beat me to the glee club, the debating team, everything he wanted me to try out for, you got in.”
“That’s your beef with me? You were two years above me, you could have tried out ages before.”
“Well, I didn’t. Even my first boyfriend kept on telling me how funny and cute you were.”
“Who was that?”
“Raymond.”
“I don’t remember anyone of that name.”
She shrugged but continued nibbling.
“Drink your tea,” I said.
She did. Her lip stopped wobbling.
“Do you have any idea why I was such a good student and a real trooper, as your dad called it? The girl you were bullying had already lost her mom, her dad had left her, and all she had left was her aunt and the niggling fear that one day, she too would decide that Bex Merriweather wasn’t worth keeping around. ”
“That’s ridiculous. Violet thought the sun shone out of your backside. And your friends did too.”
“That still didn’t stop the nightmares, or the insecurities.”
Linda sucked in her breath.
“Don’t tell me that’s exactly what you went through.”
She gulped down her tea.
Cosmo ran up to her, halting ten inches away. He purred a little.
“My parents had high expectations,” she said.
“And you were afraid not to meet them?”
Soft steps alerted me to Ange’s arrival. She had a yoga class for the seniors scheduled in the library and always came early for a chat and clearing the area.
I motioned her to sit down, next to Linda, and decided to follow my instinct. “How would you describe yourself? Thirty seconds, as many adjectives as you can think of. Close your eyes and go!”
Linda shut her eyes. “I’m wealthy, thin, blonde, married, I have a designer wardrobe, and a Lexus.” She faltered.
“Poor woman,” Ange mouthed.
I agreed. “But at your essence? What do you love, what are you passionate about, what gets you out of bed in the morning? Go!”
Linda’s lips moved. Not a single word came out. She opened her eyes. “I don’t understand the point of this.”
Cosmo bumped his head against my shin.
Gently, carefully, I cast a spell that would make Linda feel safe, and loved, if only for a few minutes. “What do you care about most?”
Her face went blank as the spell took hold. “My marriage. But I’m not sure if I can save it.”
“Why?” I signaled to Ange to stay silent.
“Garth wants me to go to therapy on my own.”
“He doesn’t want to do couple’s therapy?”
“Only when I’ve completed my own sessions. I think it’s an excuse for him.”
In my mind, I replayed the glance on her husband’s face when he saw Ange and Nick holding hands. “He loves you. Why does he think you need to see a therapist?”
“The woman who did our first couple’s session said so.”
“Because you don’t know who you are,” I guessed.
“That’s ridiculous. Everybody knows who I am.”
“Poor woman,” Ange repeated so low it was almost inaudible.
“What did you dream of, as a teenager, or a young woman?” I probed.
“Stupid, stupid stuff. My parents were right. Our kind of people doesn’t do these things.”
The words “our kind” rubbed me the wrong way but I ignored them for now. “Like what?”
“Like baking wedding cakes or taking art classes with nude models.” Her expression flickered between happy and desolate.
I expanded the spell a little, so she’d remember the emotions I hoped to create, and touched her hand. “Hey.”
She shook herself. “Did I nod off?”
“No. We all feel like that when we come out of the menopause brain fog,” Ange said, unprompted.
“We were just talking about vacation plans and dreams. Seeing Jimmy and Ms. Vine singing in front of an audience was so good. It got me all excited about trying new things myself.” I let that sink in for a moment, before I continued. “Or refreshing old skills. How about you?”
Linda twisted her wedding band. “And what if I make a fool of myself?”
The snarky voice in my head whispered, an even bigger one than usually? I shut it down. “Who cares? At our age, we should be done with wondering what other people think, as long as we’re happy and hurt nobody,” I said.
“Exactly. That’s what Nick keeps on telling his patients.” Ange exposed her henna tattoo. “I think it’s awesome that you got one too, no matter where you got it. You shouldn’t cover it up with too long sleeves.”
Linda pushed back her sleeve to admire her mehndi, in all its glory, including a tiny irregularity in the lace design.
My body temperature rose for a heartbeat. I should have put two and two together sooner. “Did you have it done in Cannon Hill so nobody in Willowmere would be the wiser if you didn’t like it after all?”
Linda’s face said it all.
I’d never thought I’d see the day, but I felt sorry for her, truly, deeply sorry.
Aunt Violet though had foreseen it. I’d almost forgotten about it, but among the notes she’d left me about her clients had been a cryptic one about Linda.
“To give to her when the need arises.” Since my aunt’s gift to match books and people had predated her witchy years, I’d kept those notes and referred to them on occasion.
I sensed it with all the fibers of my being that for Linda, the need had arisen. I sprinted to my desk, unlocked a drawer, and took out my copy of the precious notebook. Locating the two books Aunt Violet had prescribed for Linda was a matter of minutes.
When I returned, Linda was helping Ange put aside chairs and a bookcase on wheels and roll up the carpet.
“What’s that?” Linda asked when I offered her the books.
“Inspiration. I’ve dreamed for ages about going on vacation to Paris.”
Ange peered over Linda’s shoulder. “We should totally do a girls’ trip there.”
Cosmo’s whiskers twitched. Maybe he wanted to come too, to relive his French era.
Linda sighed. “I’d love to go, but I’m not sure Garth would care. He hates being away from the business for too long.”
A lightbulb went off in my head. I knew exactly what my aunt had planned when she chose Parisian stories for Linda.
“What if he could easily combine pleasure and business? There’s no better place for a jeweler than Paris.
And while he does his thing, you could take a patisserie class, or learn to dance in a cabaret, or whatever floats your boat. ”
Ange hummed the first bar of a melody that had been at the back of my mind. She lifted an imaginary petticoat, swished it and flung her legs. I did the same.
Ange hummed louder.
“You’re insane,” Linda declared.
Cosmo purred.
I held out my hand and said something that took me as much by surprise as everyone else. “Give it a whirl, girl.”
My long-time nemesis capitulated. Together, with all three of us, we danced the cancan, until the yoga ladies came in and we sank panting onto the floor.
Linda fled with her books and tea. I couldn’t blame her. She had a lot to digest, and so had I.
Linda had just unwittingly exposed a lie and maybe pointed the finger at a suddenly strong murder suspect. Now I had to wait for the yoga class to end, to discuss the revelation with Ange.
I thrust my hands into my pockets, only to experience another witchfire wave as I touched a piece of cardboard. I’d all but forgotten about the business card I’d removed from the chest.
Was it another clue?