Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
T he Freya Grove Historical Society was bigger on the inside and held more items than Sirena could imagine. Nana had taught her all about the types of houses that were built around the Grove, but she had a special fondness for this house. Whenever they drove or walked past the historical society, Nana told her that it held all the stories and mysteries of the Grove. Sirena thought it was charmingly Gothic. Her Beetlejuice- and red-lace-loving heart felt giddy whenever she drove past during her previous Empty Fridge deliveries. It didn’t really give off wild party vibes, more like midnight séance gathering space. Sirena quickly adapted to her new second-chance schedule. She’d spent her mornings working at Night Sky, took her lunch, then headed over to the historical society to start her shift as a culinary consultant, as Gus had titled her.
“Can I be a magician’s assistant instead?” she had joked.
Gus only smiled at her question and told her that she’d be stationed in the library.
Cherrywood bookshelves lining the walls were stuffed with large and oversized tomes filled with decades of Grove lore and fables. A spiral staircase wound up to a second level, where even more shelves were located. Deep-red couches were arranged so patrons could comfortably sit and read for hours when the building was open. Sirena stood in the room and breathed in the scent of crisp paper and cracked leather spines. She felt like Belle in that classic scene where the Beast gifted her his entire library.
She looked at Gus. “Can I spend my birthday here?”
His dark eyes flashed with glee. “If you’d like,” he said in a low voice.
He brought her over to the three shelves. Gus wasn’t lying about the number of culinary and cooking materials that the society possessed, or about needing a culinary eye to help decipher the information. There were a lot of archive rules Sirena had to follow before she could even touch a single item: Wash and dry your hands before you handle the documents. Keep the workspace clean. Make sure the documents have minimal exposure to light.
There were a dozen more rules that the society insisted on following, but she kept herself aware of how she was treating the documents. So far, she’d been working at the society for five afternoons, and she had barely managed to get through one small box and make a dent in the second box. One day Sirena was reading a pixie’s shopping list, and the next day she was trying to make sense of a gnome’s recipe for beer mash. Each scrap of paper she held possessed a bit of worn magic that felt like warm dust underneath her fingers.
Something dormant within her kindled when she was reading these notes and faded recipes and saw how passionate previous Grove residents were about cooking. Sirena grabbed a yellow legal pad and got a pencil, scribbling down everything that piqued her interest. She copied down a few herbs and food items that she could pick up at the Farmers Square.
Rule twenty-six: Make a shopping list before you go to the store. Check it twice.
Her phone beeped, and she checked the message.
She grinned once she saw the email’s subject line on her screen: Interview for head chef at Lighthouse. It was about time. Sirena sat back in her seat, dropping the pencil on the table. She already knew what was in the email, but this time around she didn’t feel the sense of self-assuredness that she once had. The doubt that she had managed to outrun these last few days crept back in the more she stared at the email invitation. She needed a great—no, a spellbinding —dish to help her land this interview and get the job for good. Can I trust my magic not to mess up this time around?
She winced, unable to confidently answer that question yet.
Sirena needed to get that creative spark in check. Once she got that feeling back, it would allow her to cook any dish she wanted. She went to the first box on the shelf and found a yellowed recipe that she couldn’t get out of her brain. Shore croquettes. Did Auntie Niesha cook this dish a long time ago?
She snapped a picture of it on her phone, then returned the paper to its proper place.
Getting a job at Lighthouse would help get her back on track and back to what she used to be: the best kitchen witch the Garden State could offer.
The door opened, and a steady footfall echoed on the hardwood floor.
Sirena turned to see Gus strolling in. “It’s closing time.”
A sudden warmth surged through her body the longer she stared at Gus. Why did he have to wear the tweed blazer with the tailored pants today? There was something enjoyable about it; maybe it was the thread of color about this outfit that made her smile. Most of the time, Gus was super serious when it came to his job, but there were moments when she saw the humorous side of him appear. His full, thick beard gave him a mysterious aura, as if he’d just walked out of his potion-making room to check in with her.
His handsome face lit up with an inquiring expression. “Do you see anything you like?”
Yes, I do. Sirena forced herself to look away from Gus. “Um, yes. I’m interested in the Saybrooke journal.”
Whenever she walked past the book waiting on the shelf, she felt a jolt of energy. Of course, Sirena couldn’t touch the journal until Gus finished researching the item’s provenance.
He made a low sound of agreement. “I have an update. My investigator just sent me her final report. She did an extensive search about Juliette Saybrooke. Apparently, she didn’t have any children and has no living family. She lived a very interesting life.”
Sirena leaned against the table. “How so?”
“She knew Madame Zora and even cooked for her and her family on a regular basis.”
Wow. Sirena’s brow rose to her hairline. Madame Zora, the world-famous psychic, was one of the most famous people who ever left the Grove. Everyone in the Grove claimed that they were related to Madame Zora, but her true descendants were unknown.
An eager smile crossed Gus’s face. “I’ll continue to search for any relatives, but I think we can officially call it.”
He spoke in his serious voice, which reminded Sirena of a head librarian at an enchanted circulation desk. “I can officially declare that the Saybrooke journal is part of the permanent collection of the historical society.”
Sirena let out a yell of delight and clapped her hands. She jumped up and down and did a little shimmy dance at this news. When was the last time she’d been excited to read a journal that wasn’t her sister’s? Her heart lifted. She’d been dreaming of this moment for the last week.
Gus watched her, seemingly dazed by her shimmy, then cleared his throat.
“You can come over tomorrow to look at it,” he offered.
Oh no. Her shoulders dropped. Tomorrow was Saturday, and she was going to the Harvest Festival with Callie. “I have plans.” Sirena groaned. She really wanted to look at the journal as soon as possible.
“The journal will be here on Monday.”
Sirena started gathering her notebook and her items. “I’ll be here early. I’ll bring my lunch from Night Sky.”
“You’ve got the bug,” he said kindly.
Sirena peered at him. “Is that a magician thing?”
“It’s a family thing. Grandpa Gus used to say that whenever you got fascinated with a topic, you got bitten by the curiosity bug.”
“You’re named after your grandpa,” she said.
He gave a short nod.
Sirena grinned, happy to add another piece to the Gus puzzle. “I have gotten the bug for all this. History. I mean, who knew that a kitchen witch like me would go completely batty over old papers? It makes no sense.”
“It does make sense. The herbs and foods you cook with are a direct reflection of the history and heritage you’re a product of. I mean, your last name means so much in magic.”
Sirena laughed. “Trust me, Nana Ruth schooled us about our family history.”
“Was the name always Caraway?” he inquired.
“It’s the name we claimed,” Sirena said confidently. “Caraway seeds are used in protection charms, and it’s believed that whoever carries them will remain safe. So, Lucinda and Jacob took the name for themselves and gave it to their children. They wanted to keep us protected.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I like that. Once you read the Saybrooke journal, you’ll see yourself in those pages.”
The warmth in her body went up a notch. “You know how to make a witch feel special.”
“Well, you are special.” His words were as cool and clear as an evening breeze.
She peered at him for a long second, her interest in him blooming in her chest. His dark eyes were gentle but heavy with exhaustion.
“How are you still standing? You must be tired.”
“I’ll sleep when the work is done,” he said.
Her brow creased with worry.
The Freya Grove Historical Society was a hive of constant activity. The work never seemed to get done, but Gus never complained or faltered.
Mondays he held open hours for local college and high school students to come in and ask questions about local history and examine items from the collection. He gave hour-long tours to people who were interested in having anniversary parties or wedding receptions in the library. On Wednesdays he hosted a genealogy workshop for older adults who wanted to create a family tree as a gift. She overheard booming laughter from the meeting room as Gus told his pun-filled jokes and charmed visitors. On Thursdays, he opened the society to caregivers and stay-at-home parents to have a safe place to meet and connect. Sirena heard Gus join in with the toddlers when they started singing the alphabet song, his voice kind yet strong. She had to keep from melting in a puddle of admiration. Seeing people charged Gus up, and he seemed to bask in the light of their attention. Even though she’d been there for only five days, she’d seen many sides to Gus.
She liked all of them. This man was captivating, like a faceted crystal in the sun—refracting light from other sources and catching her attention with how brilliant he shined.
She yearned to gain a fraction of the light he held.
“You really love what you do here,” she said.
Gus cleared his throat. “It’s a job.”
No. It was more than that, but she didn’t push him to change his answer. Instead, she gave him a knowing smile. Would she ever love cooking or magic again as much as he loved this place and its history? When the time came to answer that question, she hoped she had an answer that wouldn’t break her spirit.
Sirena gathered her coat and purse from the library’s desk. They left the library together, walked down the stairs, and stood in the foyer of the historical society.
Her stomach grumbled.
“Dinner or dessert?” he asked.
She considered the two options. Which one was more fun? “Dessert.”
He gave her a curt nod. “Sprinkles and Scoops, the dessert place on Main, is debuting their fall favors tonight. I thought it would be fun to try them all—or try a few favorites.”
She blinked rapidly at his offer. He hadn’t forgotten about the fun lessons. As if reading the stunned look on her face, he smirked. “I wanted to make sure our first lesson fit your personality.”
“Have you been taking notes about me?” she joked.
Gus stroked his beard as he considered her comment. Was his beard soft or rough? She rubbed her palms, itching to touch his face and quell her curiousity. Her eyes dipped down to his mouth, which seemed to be always on the edge of a laugh. He, with his dry words and style, reminded her of a well-dressed rogue who watched over the world but didn’t interact with it. A rogue who would be ready to jump into action when he was called to cause a disruption.
“A magician never reveals his secrets, but a historian examines the records, takes detailed notes, and considers the next step,” he said.
Gus waved his fingers. The front door opened before them, and the evening sounds of passing cars and faint televisions were heard. He offered his arm to her. Sirena took it without another word, and then they walked out the door. Her crush on him felt new yet familiar—like a song she hadn’t heard in a long time but felt brand-new every time she heard it.
Whenever Gus had appeared on-screen during Dealing with the Dearworths , Sirena had stopped what she was doing—cooking, cleaning, or brewing—and watched him do his magical act. He walked with a powerful swagger, a magician on a mission to thrill the world, one audience member at a time. She had watched the episode “Like a Phoenix” on repeat just to see Gus practice his breathtaking fire illusion and step into his power. No matter how many times she saw that moment when he took a single match and turned it into a soaring phoenix, Sirena was spellbound. He even got nominated for an Emmy for that episode. She was smitten with Gus in the fun way you had a crush on an internet celebrity. It was harmless.
But now, when he looked at her with his roguish smile, filled with mischief, her crush on Gus was renewed like a library book.
Sirena watched him for a long beat, not knowing whether to be charmed or on guard. From what she knew about magicians, they learned their magic just like a person learned a musical instrument. The more a magician performed their craft, the better they became at using it. What wonders could he do with the snap of his fingers?
She was afraid and a little thrilled to find out the extent of his charms.