Chapter 1 #2
Other than hearing him on the phone from time to time, I’ve never even seen a picture of him, nor any of her family, so I’m actually a little excited to meet him.
Neither of us really talk about our pasts before college, and I’m okay with that.
I love the woman I’ve matured alongside, the woman she is today and always has been with me.
Needing to delve into how we arrived at the same dorm in college all those years ago is unnecessary.
All I need to know is that she’s an amazing friend and person with a fabulous slutty streak that I’m far too jealous of.
“Good morning, Mrs. Ruby. Two coffees, three cakes?” I cheerily greet our first regular.
She runs a clothing design store a few blocks from here.
Both coffees are for her; one for the walk to her building and one for when she arrives.
The cakes are for her staff. It doesn’t matter what we have in the case on the day, she always orders three.
“Please. I think I’ll go for the Red Label today. I have a VIP coming in for a fitting and I need the extra energy boost.” Her voice is so raspy it sounds as though she has a bad smoking habit, but she quit years ago once her designs began to really take off.
“I’ll stir them with the green jade spoon for extra luck.” I wink and set about making her coffees.
A real magical witchy being, I am not, because they simply don’t exist, but I believe in the general power of the universe and positive thoughts, meaning the green jade will definitely bring Mrs. Ruby the luck she needs today.
The chimes above the door sound again, the morning wind sweeping through the shop enough to make the dreamcatchers on the ceiling sway as the next customer arrives.
Six-thirty in the morning and the sun has begun to rise, peeking over the buildings opposite and giving off a beautiful orange glow.
I love this time of day almost as much as I love the moon while it’s at its highest.
Danika appears from the storage room when Mrs. Ruby leaves and we get through the morning rush together. Nobody comes in to buy crystals, candles, herbs, or anything other than coffee and cake for the first five to six hours. It’s the same every day, and as usual, the cakes don’t last long.
Twelve o’clock rolls around and I make up two coffees, then head upstairs to grab the sandwiches I prepared last night.
“C’mon, let’s take advantage of the lull and have lunch.” I nudge Danika on my way past and sit at one of the two small round tables we have set up out front.
The wind from this morning has died down and my brain is lost reveling in the way the sun is peeking through the clouds, but then I see it.
The raven. A singular black raven sitting in the sycamore tree on the sidewalk opposite our building.
It’s the one thing that has been a constant in my life from since I can remember.
I know it’s not the same raven I used to see when I was a child because their lifespan is only around ten to fifteen years, but the fact that there’s always been one is comforting enough.
I don’t know why, couldn’t explain it if I tried, it just is.
“Collected these while you were masturbating. Figured we’d paint some ladybugs, sprinkle them with Trina’s special dust, and go for a walk this evening.” Danika places a bag of small rocks down in the middle of the table and sits on the chair opposite me.
“How thoughtful. You really were busy before we opened up.” Shaking my head, I sip at my coffee, uncaring that it’s still far too hot to actually drink. “But absolutely yes. Feels like ages since we last did the ladybugs.”
We leave them around town for anyone to find.
They’re our way of spreading a little joy and people seem to go crazy on social media when they find them.
The ladybug is a symbol of good luck and Trina actually began the tradition with us about seven years ago.
Painting the rocks together is one of the hobbies that Danika hasn’t grown bored of… yet.
Since our boss has taken us under her wing, we’ve grown as humans and as women.
She may not be glamorous the way the New York lifestyle is portrayed on the international scale, but with her long, flowing gray hair that matches the vibe of her maxi dresses and no-nonsense shoes, she looks every bit the part of a witchy store owner.
“There’s an influx of college kids getting ready to begin their first semester, so if we leave the ladybugs close to the campus we may even encourage some new customers.” Danika wags her brows, owning her business savvy brilliance with a grin before biting into her sandwich.
“The person we have coming in this afternoon for a tarot reading is one of the new students. They used their college email to book the session. Word’s definitely getting around with each new semester.
” I push the last of my sandwich into my mouth, already looking forward to washing it down with the sweet black nectar I love so much.
“Yeah, yeah, business, shmizness. Are we planning a night out to mourn the imminent ending of my twenties? Des is coming on Sunday night and taking me out for the day on Tuesday, which is a shitty day to have a birthday, if you ask me. So shall we do this Saturday?” Danika leans back in her chair and swipes the bread crumbs from her deep purple top.
The fabric is like a thin, breathable wool, so it sticks, but she manages to get it all off.
“I promise to plan a fucktastic party for your dirty thirties in November, too.”
“Can we not accidentally get the fire department called out to the bar this time?”
“Babe, it was your birthday. You can’t tell me you hated it. I saw you eyeing up the tall one. He was bulky as fuck.” She nods, clearly picturing said fireman with appreciation if that little smirk of hers is anything to go by.
I glare, raising both my brows, just waiting for her to make the promise I know she won’t keep. Well, she will, but she’ll find a way around it somehow.
“Okay, no setting small fires so the firemen get called in. But I can’t promise that I won’t make us wear matching Halloween costumes.
Now will you come?” Her faux-pout is cute, and I roll my eyes, unable to deny my best friend most things.
Even matching Halloween outfits. Seeing as my birthday is the day after, it’s not unusual.
“You know I will. Are we doing lunch with Trina and George on Sunday?” They’re the closest thing to actual parents that either of us have and they’ve celebrated our birthdays with us since the first year we moved in upstairs.
Trina’s as much a mentor to us as she is a parental figure, and I’ll always be grateful for finding that woman.
Our lives changed the day she entered them.
And I’d like to think we contributed to their happiness, as well.
She and her husband George lost their only daughter a few years before we moved into their apartment, and they’re always stopping by for a coffee and cake with us. We love it.
“Yeah, George wants to try out his new crumble recipe.” She pauses and her smile grows wider. “Speak of the old devil and he shall appear.” She laughs and stands, holding her arms out to the sides.
“Hello, girls.” George’s deep, raspy voice tells of his age, much like the lines on his face and the pure white hair on his head, but he’s just as nimble as any man I’ve ever known, with no signs of slowing down anytime soon.
He hugs Danika, turning to me next, where I’m standing and waiting with my arms out for my turn.
He’s taller than both of us. Although, being taller than me isn’t difficult. At five-foot five I’m about as average as a height could get.
“On your own today, George?” I look over his shoulder to see if Trina’s fallen behind maybe, but it seems as though he’s flying solo.
“Only briefly. My Trinket got distracted by a puppy. You know what she’s like.
Can’t walk past anyone with a pet without having a half hour conversation about their life story.
” He chuckles and holds the door open for me and Danika to walk back into the shop.
“Do you happen to have any of your baked goods left over for this tired old man?” Rubbing his stomach, he sits at one of the three small tables we have in the store.
“Sorry, George, we sol—”
“Hang on, I left one upstairs this morning for whatever reason.” Danika shrugs nonchalantly before continuing. “It’s all yours, I’ll be right back.”
“Are you okay, George? You look pale.” Not bothering to clear up our lunchtime trash, I drop everything in my hands and move quickly over to his table, crouching in front of him to see his face clearly.
He’s bent over, his brow is clammy…
“George…what’s wrong? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
Slower than I ever thought possible, he lifts his head, his eyes reaching mine, and the pain in his brown depths tells me all I need to know.
“Sage, what’s…George?” Danika’s shocked tone indicates how serious this is, if all the other very obvious flashing signs hadn’t already.
“Call the ambulance, quickly.” I don’t even look to make sure she’s doing it because I know she won’t hesitate.
“George, stay with me.” Reaching out, I grasp his hands, his cold, clammy hands, and the left side of his face scrunches in pain as he almost doubles over again.
“George, help is on the way. We’ll call Trin—” He falls forward off the chair, a grunt of pain the only warning I get before I try my best to soften his fall.
Panic is beginning to set in, but I will remain calm because that’s what is needed, I can freak the fuck out over it once the problem is solved.
And it will be solved.
George is not dying on us today.
Gently rolling him off me, I place his head in my lap and stroke his forehead, listening to Danika manically tell the operator what’s happening. A lone tear slips down my cheek as he groans in pain once more, clutching at his left arm with his face all scrunched.
“Shh, it’ll be okay, George. It’ll be okay.”
He’s shivering now, and as the sound of sirens begins getting louder, the chimes by the door ring out as our own VIP rushes inside.
She falls to her knees beside me within seconds and the wail that escapes her throat is heartbreaking.
“Oh my Goddess! No, George! My George! Honey, please, come on. It’s not time yet. I’m not ready yet…”