Chapter 18 AN ENCHANTING STROLL
AN ENCHANTING STROLL
The flush that went up in my cheeks courtesy of the whisperwind was so extreme that I had to make my excuses. I practically raced out the front door of the salon, barely managing a quick pat for the grumpy black cat.
Fortunately, there was a gentle breeze outside, and I let it play on my heated skin as I paused against one of the wooden benches that offered a superb view of the ocean.
‘Love the hair, Molly!’ called Alberta, who was hurrying back to For Old Times’ Sake with an enormous caramel latte in hand.
I beamed. ‘Thanks! I’ll be by with Lara for some headbands and scrunchies later.’
But in the meantime, I was going to stroll around the town and show off my new hair. Hey, a girl was allowed her vanity when she’d just had her hair freshly styled.
I peeked in the windows of the sundry store, where a few tourists were taking selfies with the cheese-and-crackers vending machine.
Fair, because it did have an excellent variety of sharp cheddars and fancy tostinis.
I paused outside the Hammer and Thistle, checking the dates on its upcoming pumpkin-carving contest, which Lara and I never missed.
The pub didn’t open until midday, but hundreds of pumpkins (and a few watermelons) sat out front, waiting for would-be carvers to claim them.
I was picking through the pumpkins when a commotion at The Scoop caught my eye. The ordinarily bustling gelato shop had a sign on the door saying Closed due to equipment malfunction, but there was plenty of activity going on inside.
Soraya waved at me as I wandered over to peer in the window – I’d never been able to resist a behind-the-scenes look at anything. Lara said I was a voyeur, which, coming from her, was actually a compliment. Personally, I just thought it was my journalistic brain going to work.
‘Molly, come on in!’
Opening the door, Soraya pulled the sign down, crossing her fingers.
‘Your hair is gorgeous,’ she exclaimed, indicating I should toss my head to show it off.
‘Pandora’s working her magic again, I see.
A good thing, because the anti-frizz serum I got from her the other day was doing the opposite of what it said on the bottle.
But it is Summerween. Things can get a touch strange. ’
‘Molly!’ Little Ernie gave me a gap-toothed smile, then hurried up to wrap his arms around my leg. Ernie was small for his age, and thigh height was about as far as he could manage for a hug. I ruffled his fluffy hair.
‘How’s the baseball going, Ern?’ I asked. ‘Still making the front page with your hits?’
‘Yep!’ He nodded enthusiastically. ‘Have you seen Sealy? Let me show you Sealy!’ He ran off into the back room to fetch whatever Sealy was.
‘His giant seal plushie,’ said Soraya, laughing. ‘It’s almost as big as he is. And it’s multi-functional. It’s a pillow, a chair, a table. Basically, whatever his brain can dream up.’
Ah, the one he’d been showing off at the Summerween Festival.
‘It sounds like we all need a Sealy.’ It was good to see Soraya looking so happy and relaxed. The last few times I’d seen her, she’d been desperately trying to rework the chill charm that made her ice cream so famous.
‘Sealy has three plushie brothers, so you’re welcome to borrow one. Oh, here he comes.’
Ernie had returned with a giant squishy toy seal that was easily as large as Soraya had described. Bar his skinny legs and charm-covered Crocs, Ernie was entirely obscured behind it.
‘Wow, you were right about Sealy! He’s huge.’ I turned to Soraya. ‘Looks like you have a great helper here.’
‘Keiko at the Summer Camp was having trouble with her arts-and-crafts spells,’ said Soraya. ‘You don’t want to be in the room when a thousand googly eyes and five hundred pipe cleaners suddenly make a break for it.’
‘I think I actually do,’ I said, laughing. ‘But it looks like your ice cream is doing better than Keiko.’
‘It is!’ Soraya exclaimed. ‘The no-melt charm is working again, as of about ten minutes ago. We had that gust of magical wind that went through, and whatever was interfering with my charm suddenly wafted off. I honestly thought I was going to have to close up for the rest of summer.’
Her phone rang. ‘Hang on, it’s Keiko. Hello?’
‘Uh oh,’ I said to Ernie. ‘Is Sealy becoming … a spaceship?’
I used my magic to lightly set the seal plushie aloft. Ernie squealed with delight, clapping his hands. ‘Higher! Higher!’
Soraya grinned as she watched our shenanigans. ‘Oh, that’s great. I’ll drop him over within the hour.’
She hung up the phone. ‘Keiko says that her spellcasting woes have been resolved as well. Whatever was in the air, it’s gone now. And thank goddess, because I have so much to catch up on after these past few days.’
‘I can walk him down to Keiko’s if that would make life easier for you,’ I offered.
Soraya’s face lit up. ‘Are you sure? Oh, you’re a superstar.’
‘Sure. Any excuse to say hi to Keiko – she was a formative part of my childhood.’
When we were younger, Mom and Rosie had signed us kids up for various day camps with Keiko, and we hadn’t always been on our best behaviour.
I had plenty of memories of coming home covered in mud, or with a backpack that definitely wasn’t mine.
(This had been part of a concerted swapsies effort that had delighted the kids and infuriated the parents.) Thankfully, Keiko was a good sport and, like Soraya, had become a firm family friend.
‘I’ll text her to let her know you’ll be dropping Ernie off. Would you like some ice cream for the road? I can pick the flavour if that helps.’
It did indeed help, or Ernie would’ve been an hour late getting to his camp programme.
‘Baklava and vanilla bean,’ said Soraya, handing me a gift bag filled with a small tub.
‘Tell Finn I said hi,’ she said, giving me knowing wink.
My ring fizzed. Of course: the last time I’d come in here it had been with Finn. And he hadn’t been subtle in his playfulness. Nor I in my reciprocity. Soraya probably assumed we were a couple.
Were we a couple? Where was the line between flirting and something more?
The six-year-old tugging at my skirt meant that was a question for another time.
I looped the gift bag around my wrist and hoisted Ernie’s yellow John Deere digger bag over my shoulder.
‘I’ll do the backpack if you promise to carry Sealy,’ I told him.
He hugged the plushie so tightly it almost exploded, then hurried off out the door, his sneakers lighting up with every step. He was so cute – but wow, I had no idea how Soraya kept up with his energy. He was like a million Finns condensed into a tiny, fluffy-haired package.
We’d made it down the path when I heard my name called. A deep, calm voice I’d know anywhere.
‘Molly.’
It was Noah. I spun on my heel, trying not to do a double take at the magic Pandora had worked on his hair.
She’d trimmed it, just lightly, so that it was tidier around his ears and neck, but she’d left the length for the most part.
He looked like he’d just stepped off the set of an indie film shot in black and white.
If I were in a Victorian novel, I’d be swooning.
‘Noah!’ Ernie dropped my hand and went racing over to Noah, Sealy out in front of him like a steering wheel.
‘Hey, Ernie. Hey, Sealy.’
‘You know Sealy?’
Noah tossed the seal lightly up in the air. ‘We go way back. I’ve been helping Keiko out with some of her painting classes.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘You didn’t tell me anything about this.’
‘You never asked,’ he countered.
‘I’m definitely asking now. Hey, Ernie, what has Noah been teaching you how to paint?’
‘Hand-print crabs!’ said Ernie excitedly. He splayed his hands to demonstrate.
‘The fingers are the legs,’ explained Noah. ‘Then you add googly eyes to the thumbprints.’
‘And a smiley face!’ added Ernie.
‘And a smiley face,’ agreed Noah.
‘I made an extra one with my friend Jessie,’ added Ernie. He pressed his hands together into a butterfly. ‘It had sixteen legs. Are you coming with us, Noah?’
‘I’m dropping him off at Keiko’s,’ I explained.
Noah hesitated.
‘Please?’ begged Ernie.
There was no denying Ernie. He was simply too cute.
‘Sure,’ relented Noah.
We strolled up the winding roads of Whisperwind Cove, warmed by the soft oceanside sun. Ernie zigzagged in front of us, proudly reading the numbers on the mailboxes and the street names etched into the sidewalk cement and traced with moss.
Keiko’s campsite was down a long driveway that connected off Enchanted Way, a tree-lined street filled with quaint homes that enjoyed a magnificent view of the cove.
I pointed out my favourite houses as we went. A yellow one with a conical turret and a spotty terrier sunbathing in the bay window. A blue cottage with a thatched roof, and a garden to rival Rosie’s. A charming green house with gingerbread-style millwork and bird baths.
Ernie chimed in with every one, adding his cheerful agreement.
‘That’s my favourite one, too!’ he exclaimed. ‘And that one! And that one as well!’
Noah nodded along, but he seemed quiet. Distracted, almost.
‘Here we are, Ernie!’ I called, when the stained-glass flowers and bottle trees that lined the art camp gate came into view.
I waved at the doorbell camera, and a moment later a tiny woman in a sparkly tutu, hand-painted Converse high-tops and a necklace made from sequined bottle tops came jogging up: Keiko.
A gaggle of kids followed after her, half of them smeared with paint, and the other half carrying in-progress craft pieces.
‘Thank you for bringing him up,’ she said. ‘We’re doing pottery later today – Ernie’s favourite.’
‘Any time,’ I said, taking a moment to ooh and aah at the artwork the kids were waving at us. Next to me, Noah was generously giving high fives and nodding wide-eyed at the stories he was being told about unicorns and dolphins.
‘Noah, will you be coming in for our painting session next week?’ Keiko asked. When I shot Noah a curious look, she added, ‘We’ve been working with gouache, and his colours are so vivid. The kids love it.’