Chapter 5 #2
Cosmo waited until I’d put away my phone.
He stared at me with an intensity that reminded me of my third-grade teacher – and my former mother-in-law.
Both hadn’t been members of the Bex Merriweather fan club, and like my ex-husband in the final year of our marriage, they’d declined to call me anything but Rebecca. I should have seen the signs.
But what had I done that earned me that look from Cosmo?
“If this is going to work, you need to talk to me so I can understand,” I told him. “After all, you’re my familiar now. That is what you are, right?”
His whiskers trembled and his lips twitched. “That’s not the term I’d use. Who’s the one who’s wet behind her ears, a total greenhorn who couldn’t tell a hex from an enchantment and a spell from a scrying? Think of me as your mentor.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you. I thought familiar was the correct term.”
“It’s okay,” he said graciously. “You may think of me as your familiar, as long as you understand who’s in charge for now.”
“Totally. What do I do?”
“Follow my instructions, read, learn, practice. You’re not my first novice, and you’re quite smart for a human.”
“Thanks, but I mean, about the house, and Louisa? Won’t she find out Aunt Violet was a witch when she goes through every single item in the place? Or does she already know? Does anyone?”
“No, and she won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Did you know? Or at least guess? No. And you know why? Because people only see what they expect. Also, we’ve used the secret room. If you listen to my instructions, it’ll be a piece of cake. Speaking of which …” He licked his lips.
I opened a can of tuna. “Don’t forget to use the bathroom before we head out,” I said, before I could stop myself. My only child was 20 years old, and after less than 24 hours with Cosmo, I returned to full mom mode and was treating him like a toddler. I had to nip that in the bud.
A little later, I pulled up on the driveway, with Jimmy and Cosmo in the car.
The automatic lights on the porch came to life.
They cast their beam over the front yard.
I could make out the pink, yellow, and purple of the hellebore Aunt Violet adored.
Winter daphne was planted alongside the house.
The back yard held more flowers, shrubs, and trees of a dizzyingly wide variety.
My aunt had taken great care in deciding what to plant where, so the kids could pick a flower or two after the library visit, without poisoning themselves if they nibbled a leaf.
Poison. What had brought that to my mind again? I lowered my head, intent on not glancing over to Jake’s place.
Jimmy climbed out of my car. He struggled a little to pull himself upright but declined my assistance. “All I need is a little space, and patience.” He shuffled over to the hellebores and inspected them. “You ever done much gardening?”
I shook my head. Our yard had been all lawn, with a few carefully arranged flower baskets hanging from ornamental brackets. A florist had changed them at regular intervals, working in tandem with my ex-husband.
Had I ever put my mark on our family home, apart from my workshop? Not so that anyone would notice.
Never mind, I told myself. That was going to change. Rebecca, the pushover, would fully transform into Bex Merriweather, destined to be a power for good in Willowmere, and all of Cannon Hill. No more backing-down, no more compromises to keep the peace. I punched the air in triumph.
Jimmy peered at me. “Is it arthritis? It can hit you at any age now, I’ve heard.”
“There’s a reiki practitioner, that can help. I think my receptionist told you about Brad?” Louisa startled me so bad I dropped Cosmo’s carrier. He wailed.
I ignored him. How could I not have noticed her arrival? Was she a witch, too? How many of us were there – here, and further away? I had so many questions I lost track of them all.
Louisa flicked on the main switch. All the lights went on, on the first floor.
The switch for the second floor, with the main living quarters, was located at the bottom of the staircase in the middle of the house.
Another boxed staircase at the end of the library had been fitted with a stairlift, when Aunt Violet had been diagnosed with heart problems that required constant medication and more rest periods.
The chair lift had been her idea of a compromise, so she wouldn’t have to climb the stairs a dozen times a day, with books.
The library only held part of the collection, and she’d restock the shelves with new (or old, however you wanted to look at it) reading material, whenever there were gaps, or she’d decided which novel or picture book was needed.
A tower was added to the side of the building. The top floor of the tower had been my abode.
My aunt had pulled a lot of strings to get the necessary permits to run her private lending library in her own home. Common sense had prevailed.
I closed my eyes and inhaled. Mixed in with the slightly musty smell of old books and touches of orange blossom from the reed diffusers, was the vanilla and cinnamon from the thousands of cookies Aunt Violet had baked in the small kitchen down here. Scented candles stood unlit.
“Bex?” Louisa tapped me on the shoulder. “We’d better get started.”
“Sorry.” I switched on the upstairs lights. Cosmo scrabbled inside the carrier. I hastened to open it. Without so much as a glance towards me, he shot up the stairs. We followed at a more sedate pace.
“Where do you want to begin?” I asked Louisa.
“In the living room.”
Louisa and Jimmy did the inspection. They both took care of different sides of the room and shouted out their finds to me. I typed everything into a laptop Louisa had provided.
“Wouldn’t recording on your phone be easier?” I asked here, after the third entry of “multi-colored teapot, bone china, in the style of Clarice Cliff”.
“I tried that once and lost a whole day’s work when it crashed.” She lifted a cup and inspected the bottom. “Add five teacups, also in the same style, no pottery mark.” We stopped two hours and ten pages full of inventory later.
“A few hours tomorrow should do it,” Louisa remarked, full of confidence.
Jimmy rubbed his back. All that stooping, to clear out cabinets and drawers in the proper kitchen, must have been exhausting.
I made a mental note to see if that reiki person offered gift vouchers.
But apart from my old room, the attic and storage areas, and the library, we were done.
Louisa had declared herself happy without rummaging through my aunt’s wardrobe, and she could testify that I hadn’t pilfered so much as a silver bookmark.
I grinned as I scanned the list. All these teapots (the final tally was six), yet zero cauldrons, crystal balls, wands, or spell-books.
We’d discovered a broom, but from the looks of it, my aunt had used it for sweeping and not for flying.
If witches really did fly. My authority on the subject had spent the stocktaking on the sofa, curled up on a rose-patterned cushion, with another one propped behind his back.
I emailed myself a copy of the list and shut the laptop. Cosmo stretched himself and yawned.
So did Jimmy. My conscience pricked. “Anyone up for dinner? My treat, of course.” With $20,000 coming my way, my money worries had ended, at least for a while.
“Great, and it’s on me, or rather, the firm. Company expense,” Louisa said.
“In that case, I won’t say no.” Jimmy chuckled.
We went to a local steak house, which combined rustic chic with deceptively simple cooking. Everything on the menu was locally produced, which meant the menu changed with the seasons and the harvest bounty.
Jimmy feasted on meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and a stewed vegetable medley. He scanned my steak with a wry grin. “Enjoy it while you can. Chewing is a darn sight harder with a dental plate. Your aunt had a great set of teeth. If you take after her, you’re lucky.”
Louisa speared a bite of flame-grilled chicken. “I’m glad she brought you back home.”
“That’s lovely to hear.” I was touched.
“We can do with fresh blood for the Badger Belles.” She gave me a once-over. “Do you still bowl?”
“Not since our High School days. And I’ll probably be much too busy, learning how to run the library.”
“Nonsense.” I remembered that determined expression in Louisa’s face.
She’d honed her math skills by calculating statistical odds at the bowling alley.
Other people were proud to remember what a badger in bowling was.
Louisa laughed about such simple things.
At the drop of a hat or throw of a ball, she’d tell you how often a badger had been registered, who’d thrown it and when, and what kind of a badger it had been.
Uninitiated folks thought of striped woodland creatures when they heard of the Badger Belles.
Instead, the team took its name from the rare feat of getting at least four strikes in a row.
I shook my head at myself. How did I remember this stuff and yet I’d stocked up on table salt so often, I’d be able to supply half the neighborhood, because I couldn’t recollect if I’d bought a new canister or not?
We left without running into more of my old acquaintances. Good, I felt fit to drop. It had been an unusual day, and an exhausting one. Which is why I only gave Harper a quick wave at my return and headed towards my bed and oblivion.
Cosmo agreed when I told him I was too tired for a chat. “You need to rest as much as you can.”
“I do. It’s been a shock.”
“True. Which is why I’m happy to let you sleep before we begin your training. Do you need me to wake you an hour before sunrise?”