Chapter 6
Marigold was walking to her car to leave work when she stopped. Her vibrant green eyes, usually sharp, were dulled with exhaustion as she tried to put the long, emotionally taxing day at Enchantresso behind her.
She went to wave at Roz, but the other woman was deep in conversation with… thin air. Roz’s jet-black hair hung loose against her baggy plaid shirt, her dark red lips moving as she gestured dramatically.
Goldie shrugged, then put her hand down, deciding she didn’t have the energy to find out what was going on.
As she was driving, the thought of going home alone and being stuck in the cavern of her own head didn’t seem fun.
That cavern was currently populated by the ghosts of Lucian’s accusations, and Goldie wasn’t ready for a solo excavation.
Instead of turning left towards her quiet cottage, she turned right.
She stopped at Frank’s Diner, the local greasy spoon with the best burgers in town.
She found a booth near the back, slid onto the bench, and grabbed the laminated menu. A low, gravelly whisper that somehow traveled the entire room shattered the silence. She could hear Gertrude sitting down at the booth in front of her, gabbing away with the force of a small hurricane.
Gertrude was talking to one of her blue-haired church friends—the kind that all looked exactly the same to Goldie, a uniform of sensible shoes and brightly colored hair dye.
Goldie was trying to shrink into the bench, hoping the oversized menu would somehow make her invisible.
She didn’t have it in her to deal with the town gossip tonight.
A peaceful meal was all she wanted, and the soothing hum of quiet conversation surrounding her that she didn’t have to take part in.
She eavesdropped without meaning to, her attention snagged by the unmistakable name of Lucian.
“...and I saw Carrie yesterday at the post office,” Gertrude’s gravelly whisper continued to her friend. “She told me Lucian is visiting from Stonefall City—said he’s taking a break from the big city hustle and that he’s recently single.”
Recently single. The words snagged in her brain, causing Goldie’s grip to tighten on the edge of the menu.
The other lady gasped. “Single? Wasn’t he getting married? Well, now that’s interesting.”
Goldie felt her stomach turn as she tried to block out the voices, no longer wanting to hear whatever gossip they were discussing.
“That’s what I heard also!” Gertrude hissed, leaning closer.
“I guess he dumped her because she got too clingy. You know how intense city folk can be,” Gertrude hesitated, her voice dipped in a loud, conspiratorial whisper, like a loose shutter rattling in a sudden gust. “But listen to this: I saw him myself earlier, down by the park this afternoon.”
A sickening lurch in her stomach, a heavy, leaden sensation pinned Goldie to the diner booth, rooted to the spot by an unseen force.
“He was talking to Ellie,” Gertrude paused for dramatic effect.
The air felt thin and metallic. Goldie felt her breath lock in her throat, a crushing weight settling on her chest. Gertrude always stretches the truth, and that’s what’s happening now, her mind screamed.
Gertrude’s voice kept going, careless and pleased with itself. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if sparks were flying there, honey. After all, they’ve always been close.”
Ellie. Her Ellie. Her best friend, her sister in everything but blood. The thought hammered at her: Ellie would never do that to me. The menu slipped down, and then she felt those piercing eyes lock onto her.
Suddenly, Gertrude’s voice changed pitch. “Oh, I didn’t see you there, Goldie.”
Goldie forced air back into her lungs and looked up, rearranging her face into something that could pass for normal.
Gertrude was already smiling at her as if nothing had just been said that could ruin a life.
Gertrude patted her big Texas gray updo.
The hair was a super huge and fluffy confection on her 4’9” frame, a style that seemed to hold secrets she couldn’t keep to herself.
“We were just discussing the fact that Lucian was back in town,” Gertrude continued, leaning over conspiratorially. “Big news.”
Goldie shrugged, a faint ripple of her shoulders under the wool, attempting to project an air of easy indifference. “I’m sure it is.”
“Didn’t you guys used to date?” Gertrude asked, her eyes gleaming.
“That was… a long time ago,” Goldie looked at her, trying to figure out a way to answer without fueling the gossip mill. “When we were like kids.”
“Oh, but you’re still a kid,” Gertrude laughed.
Goldie tried to deflect, scanning the diner for escape routes instead of conversation threads. That’s when she spotted the woman next to Gertrude. “Hey Lucy.” Hoping she had said the right church lady’s name.
“I’m Clara, sweet child,” Clara replied. “You may want to get those eyes checked; I look nothing like Lucy.”
“Oh—sorry,” Goldie muttered, heat crawling up her neck.
She looked around, looking for Lizzy, the waitress and owner of the diner. Hoping at this point to order food to go—being stuck inside her own head at home was way better than trying to avoid saying the wrong thing to Gertrude.
Her prayer was answered when Lizzy finally broke away from the service counter and started gliding toward her booth. The woman looked like a rockabilly witch, with jet-black hair pulled back, but for two striking white streaks that framed her face like lightning bolts.
“Evening, Goldie,” Lizzy said, pulling a pad from her apron. “Rough day?”
Goldie managed a small, tired smile. “You have no idea. Just passing through to grab some comfort food. How are you doing tonight?”
“Hanging in there. What can I get for you?” the waitress asked.
“A burger, fries, and a vanilla shake—all to go, please,” Goldie replied quickly, pulling her wallet out to speed the transaction up.
“Got it,” Lizzy said.
Before Lizzy could even write it down, Gertrude’s booming voice cut through the air, overriding the low murmur of the diner. Goldie didn’t even need to turn around to know Gertrude was staring directly at her.
“Nonsense, Goldie, you can come eat with us,” Gertrude declared, making it sound like an order, not an invitation. “You can sit with us. Plenty of room. We’ll keep you company.”
That wasn’t an invitation. It was a decision made without her.
Goldie’s entire body tensed. She immediately began scrambling for an acceptable excuse.
I can’t sit there and let her pick apart my entire life.
She opened her mouth to argue when a sudden, clear memory surfaced: Nibbles.
Nibbles was currently in his crate in the back of the car, with the windows cracked just enough for air.
He had been a champion of chaos even earlier that day, and she knew her familiar was a grade-A escape artist. Given the chance to stay, she would undoubtedly overthink Lucian, but leaving him unattended for long was probably a recipe for disaster—a broken window, a missing Grifflet, or both.
It was definitely for the best that she just headed home.
She gave Gertrude a look of genuine regret. “That’s so sweet of you, Gertrude, but I really can’t. I need to get home to feed Nibbles before he starts throwing a tantrum. You know how he gets.”
“That sweet little Grifflet?” Gertrude frowned. “You could just bring him in. He’d be no trouble at all.”
The waitress didn’t even look up. “Absolutely not. Last time that thing was in here, we lost three mugs and I’m still finding feathers from his molting season.”
“He’s been banned,” Goldie winced at the memories. She had insisted on paying, but was told it was all right. “So, I just take my food to go.”
“Temporarily,” Lizzy corrected.
Gertrude sighed as if this was all solvable with persistence. “Well. Until your food’s ready, we can still talk.”
Goldie’s smile held for half a second too long. She sat back slowly, regretting every decision that had led her into this booth, this diner—and whatever the hell Lucian coming back was about to mean. Goldie felt the color drain from her face as she regretted stopping for food.
Marigold tried to find the sunshine side of the day.
It was a conscious effort; a mental pep talk she gave herself every morning since Lucian came back to town a week ago.
Today, she found the task nearly impossible.
The relentless grey clouds outside her window matched the heavy, sluggish feeling in her soul.
She forced her lips into a smile—a bright, determined curve that immediately felt strained and fake—and muttered, "It's a new day, Goldie.
New day, new magic, no Lucian." She took a deep breath, inhaling the sharp, clean scent of the morning, trying to banish the lingering memory of him, banish the gloominess.
She was determined to be cheerful, even if it took every ounce of witchy-will she possessed.
The drive to the shop was a blur of distracted thoughts and near-misses, made all the more stressful by Nibbles.
The little Grifflet was in rare form, flying chaotic, screeching loops around the interior of the car, his talons occasionally snagging the headrest and his wings hitting the back of Goldie’s head.
By the time she pulled up to Enchantresso, her nerves were already frayed to a thin, vibrating wire.
She saw Ellie in front of the cafe, smiling. She had avoided the conversation for two days, but knew she couldn’t avoid it anymore. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for it.
"Ellie," Goldie began, jingling her car keys, "Gertrude at Frank's Diner mentioned seeing you and Lucian talking at the park."
Ellie paused as if she were weighing her words carefully.
Then she gave Goldie a look of calm. She shrugged casually.
“Oh, that old bat. We did run into each other—literally, almost—while I was taking my lunch break walk. It was just for a moment. You know how this town is. People turn breathing near someone into a story.”
"Right," Goldie said, trying to ignore the friction in her chest. “She was just... suggesting things. Saying he was single, and that sparks were flying between the two of you."
Ellie's expression immediately hardened into a look of fierce loyalty. "Goldie, are you serious? After everything we've been through?” She paused for a beat. “I would never betray you like that. He's your ex. I’m your best friend. End of story."
She crossed the distance between them and squeezed Goldie's arm, her eyes wide with sincerity. The powerful conviction in Ellie's voice provided a small amount of relief, temporarily overriding the town gossip.
Goldie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. "I know, I know. It's just... with Lucian back, everything feels raw again. And Gertrude's words are poison for a person’s raw wounds."
"Then don't drink them," Ellie murmured, looking at her phone. "You deserve better than that male."
For a split second, however, a tiny, cold core of distrust settled in Goldie’s gut, and she let Gertrude’s words create friction in her heart.
“Crap,” she said immediately, too quickly. She looked down, already stepping back. “My mom’s losing it again.”
Goldie frowned. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. She just… spirals.” Ellie gave a small, practiced smile. “Would you mind if I took today off?”
Goldie hesitated. The morning rush flashed in her mind. “I guess.”
Ellie was already backing away.
Goldie called after her, sharper than she had meant to. “Hey—are you sure everything’s okay?”
Ellie waved without turning fully back. “It’s just my mom. Overdramatic as usual.”
Ellie jumped into her car and drove off without a further word.
The moment she pushed open the front door, the heavy scent of moisture hit her—a sharp smell that definitely didn’t belong in a tea shop.
Her heart sank. Stepping further inside, she found the floor transformed into a shallow, shimmering lake.
A low, rhythmic gurgling led her to the kitchen, where she let out a long, pained groan.
Water was gushing from under the sink in a steady, relentless torrent, pooling rapidly across the brown tiles.
“Why me?” she growled, the frustration boiling over as she lunged for the shut-off valve.
With a violent twist, the spray died down to a pathetic drip.
She stood there for a moment, shoulders slumped, before grabbing a stack of industrial towels and starting the grim task of cleaning up the deluge.
Between frantic swiping at the floor, she reached for her phone, already deciding that despite the early hour, she had no choice but to call Luke.