Chapter 20 #2
“What else do you have in there?” I tease her.
Simone grins wickedly. “Anything the situation calls for. I’m always prepared.”
“You must be a Capricorn.”
“Or a boy scout,” Joanna mutters.
Simone beams. “Virgo. But I looove that you know the star signs!”
“It was a hobby,” I say. “When I was alive.”
“You can still have an astrological chart in the afterlife. Ooo!” Her eyes suddenly pop and she takes my arm. “You should let me read your tarot!”
I shake my head slowly. “Maybe once I’ve gotten my shit together.”
“But this could help guide you to get that shit together! Oh, please let me do it! It’s something I’ve been working on, and I could use all the practice I can get.”
The last time I came in contact with a set of tarot cards was at my best friend, Lanie Fallon’s house.
Her mom was a witch, and I used to love sneaking into her room with Lanie and looking at all her magical items. She had crystals and smudge sticks strewn across her dresser, and pendulums dangling from the mirror.
Behind her bed was a beautiful tapestry depicting long-haired women dancing barefoot in the forest around a fire.
When my sister first told me we were moving, it wasn’t just the fact that I was leaving my friend that made me sad.
I was leaving behind the beauty of magic as well.
Moving to the city meant moving away from paranormals, and growing up I felt connected to them in a way.
I wasn’t like them, but I shared their label of being different.
I stood out in middle school because I was the tallest kid in my class.
The red hair didn’t help either. I didn’t like playing sports and I didn’t participate in after school activities.
I was the loud, obnoxious, weird girl who didn’t fit in, so it wasn’t that hard to empathize with the paranormals.
I wanted to stay with them—to live in their town—but it wasn’t up to me.
On the drive out of Shadow Hills, after we’d packed up the entire house in one afternoon and said goodbye to none of our neighbors, I gazed longingly out the window from the backseat and wished I could ask Mrs. Fallon’s tarot cards for help.
I remember feeling so lost, and it’s the same way I feel now. I have no idea what my future holds, or if I even have a future anymore, but what if those cards really do hold the answers I’m looking for?
Raegan and Joanna are watching eagerly, waiting for my reaction. I give Simone a hard nod. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
She fist pumps the air then touches my arm again with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
“I think that’s a great idea, Kennedy,” Raegan says. “Maybe they will answer some questions for you. Like why your spirit chose to come back to Shadow Hills.”
She’s right. It’s probably the biggest question I have, and I trust Simone.
A young man, about college-aged, approaches our table and asks what we want to eat. I think I recognize him, but he keeps his head down the entire time he’s writing down our orders.
“Do you have blueberries?” I ask him hopefully.
“Umm. Let me ask my mom.”
He shuffles away, sticking the notepad with our orders in his back pocket.
“That’s Kiki’s son, Brendon,” Joanna tells me. “He works for me at the farm part time. I thought he was done with the cafe, but he must have changed his mind.”
“He doesn’t seem to like his job very much,” Raegan suggests.
Joanna purses her lips. “I think it’s just being around his family so much that annoys him. I mean, I get along with my mom great—she’s my best friend—but I know you wouldn’t want to have to see your mom at work if you were living with her too.”
Raegan bristles. “Birdie? Absolutely not.”
“She’s not that bad,” Simone interjects. “She’s old school, for sure, but she means well.”
“Yes, but you have magic, Simone. She likes you.”
There’s some unspoken understanding between these women, and I sense it has something to do with Raegan not being part of the coven. But it’s none of my business.
The girls start chatting about plans for a winter carnival, but I zone out.
Being here with them almost feels normal.
I could easily become a regular member of this friend group, but what will happen fifty years from now when I’m still one day shy of turning thirty and they’re knitting in the nursing home?
I guess it’s no different than anything else in life. Things change, but I never will.
I can’t help but sit with that daunting thought as Brendon comes back to the table. I don’t realize he’s talking to me until Simone taps my knee.
“Sorry?” I look up and find the guy blinking at me.
“We don’t have any blueberries. Our fresh fruit gets delivered on Sundays, and we’re all out until then.”
My heart sinks. I was really looking forward to having something from my previous life—something to remind me what it was like being alive.
“That’s okay,” I tell him, secretly berating myself for getting my hopes up.
“We can do something else,” he suggests. “There’s like, all the unhealthy options. Just not the healthy ones.”
“Putting fruit in a pancake doesn’t make it healthy,” Joanna says.
“Yes, it does,” Raegan interjects. “It’s like having lettuce on your burger. It’s the essence that counts.”
Simone directs her question to the waiter. “Can I get some pepper and onion essence in my omelet?”
I suppress a laugh, and instantly the mood has lightened.
“Just plain pancakes, please,” I say, and Brendon nods.
Joanna and Raegan agree to split a large veggie hash bowl.
After our food arrives, the other girls immediately dig in.
I, on the other hand, can’t stop staring at the enormous plate of buttery pancakes that’s been placed in front of me.
My mouth begins to water from the smell, but I’m too afraid to take a bite.
“Is it not what you ordered?” Joanna asks around a bite of potatoes smothered in cheese.
My breath hitches. “It’s perfect.”
A simple pancake breakfast shouldn’t make me emotional, but part of me thought I’d never be able to do simple things like this again. Eating a warm meal seemed like something a ghost would no longer be privy to, but I’m so glad that’s not the case.
The girls are quiet, but they seem to understand the significance of the moment and don’t interrupt.
I cut into a double layer of fluffy pancake and carve out a small bite, raising it to my lips.
Syrup drips from my fork and onto the plate as I place it in my mouth.
I savor the sweetness on my tongue for as long as I can before swallowing.
Theo was right: eating while in my physical body feels completely normal.
But where is it going to go later if I shift forms?
There’s a period of quiet as we all dig in, but soon they start talking about life updates and funny anecdotes with their significant others. I listen for the most part with a smile on my face, and they all make an effort to include me, despite not having much to add to the conversation.
Almost an hour after everyone is done eating, Simone announces she’s meeting the other witches to see a movie. After that, Joanna heads back to the farm and Raegan walks across the street to the bookstore to start her shift. And when I’m finally alone again, I think to myself, this could work.
This whole afterlife thing might not be that complicated after all.