Chapter 2 Rosie
Rosie
I’m not sure if pink Himalayan salt is the right choice for a salt circle, but I’m really hoping it is. If not, I’ve just wasted a full forty dollars’ worth of salt.
After finishing my circle and setting up the candles using the specific sequence my mom taught my sisters and me long ago, I light each candle, thinking only of my goal and whom I want to speak with.
The warlock who put a curse on the Mayfields. I need to break the—
“Meow,” Percy, my annoying fluffy cat, says.
I didn’t really choose him as a pet; one day, he followed me home and hasn’t left my side since.
It’s truly a toss-up if he’ll stay home when I leave the house or if he’ll follow me around town.
He’s a good cat, though, and if I go into a place that doesn’t allow pets, he’ll sit outside, waiting for me to be done.
“Shut up, Percy,” I grumble, opening one eye to glare at him.
“I’m trying to find you a dad.” Percy glares as if to say, You dumbass, I’m a cat, I don’t need a dad, but eventually, he turns around, tail lifted high to show me his asshole before he makes his way downstairs, probably to knock some books off a shelf as punishment for my attitude.
I return to the task at hand, focusing on whom I want to summon. The warlock who put a curse on the Mayfields, I think over and over. I want to find my true love. I need to break the curse. I don’t want to feel the pain of heartbreak anymore.
When the fifth and final candle is lit, I move the smoldering bowl of herbs, spices, and dried flowers I prepared and sit on the floor before it, taking a deep breath.
Finally, I open the large, leather-bound grimoire my mom helped me create at the age of eight when my powers first started to appear.
Flipping through, I find the page I’m looking for: How to communicate with the dead.
There’s a note written in the margins in my mom’s handwriting: For emergencies only! And even then, NEVER perform this alone. Ghosts are tricky and always looking for loopholes!
I shrug, ignoring her warning. How much worse can things get?
I’m doomed to a life of loneliness as it is.
From what my mother told me, the spell was put on my grandmother by a jealous warlock, cursing the entire line of Mayfields to have their hearts broken over and over after they tell a partner they love them.
My grandmother was left with two daughters when my grandfather walked out on them, and my own father passed when I was barely five, leaving my mother with my two sisters and me.
I refuse to face the same fate.
I want a happily ever after, this stupid curse be damned.
And tonight, I’m finally brave enough—or desperate, depending on how you look at it—to make it happen.
The spell is simple: once the setup is complete, just repeat the name of the person I’m trying to contact until they appear.
“The person who cursed the Mayfields. The key to breaking the curse,” I repeat over and over, and even though I don’t have the exact name, I feel it after a moment: the chill washing over me, the lights flickering on the candles, the creaking of the old floorboards.
I continue speaking. “I want to fall in love. Bring me the person who will help break my curse so I can find my true love.” The candle directly in front of me snuffs out, sending my pulse skyrocketing, the other four remaining lit, and then a form is there in its place: an elderly man with a wide smile, only half of him formed, his bottom half coming together in a point as he floats a few feet above the ground.
If I hadn’t watched my grandmother summon ghosts when I was a child to kindly ask them to stop haunting people’s homes, cars, or couches, I might have been nervous or shocked. Instead, I smile at him.
“My, my, now what do we have here?” he asks.
He doesn’t seem devious or malicious, something I’ve been warned could happen.
“What’s your name, girl? My name is Phillip.
” Names are powerful in magic, but something in me tells me it’s safe.
And if there was one thing my mom taught me, it was to always trust my gut.
So: this man, despite having put a curse on my family years before, is safe.
“I, uh,” I start, then clear my throat to speak. “My name is Rosemary Mayfield, granddaughter of Gertrude Mayfield.”
“Mayfield, why does that name sound familiar?” He drifts up in the air, twirling around and circling like he is already bored and needs to move to entertain himself. I take a deep breath, centering myself before answering, forcing confidence and expertise I don’t necessarily feel into my words.
“Because you cursed my grandmother and our entire line years ago when she turned you down for a date. I summoned you to remove the curse once and for all.”
He stares at me, one translucent finger to his chin like he’s thinking before his smile widens. “Ah, yes, I recall now. A real looker, she was. Remind me, what were the exact terms of the curse?”
I bite my lip because I never actually asked for the specific words—even though that’s how all magic works.
“Or, at least, what you know of it. You said Gertrude Mayfield is your grandmother?”
I sigh with relief and nod. “Yes, I don’t know all of the terms. I only know that you cursed my entire family line and made it so when we tell our partners we love them, the relationship ends miserably.”
He nods thoughtfully. “And I assume you want to fall in love? You seem like a sweet girl. It’s a shame it hasn’t happened yet.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Oh, I’ve fallen in love plenty of times,” I say. “It’s the staying in love that seems to be the issue. Just like your curse threatens, when I tell someone I love them, the relationship ends soon after.”
He nods, looking around my living room where I set up my salt circle to keep his spirit contained. “What do you do?” he asks. “Do you live in Heartwood Hollow?”
I nod once more, watching him float along here and there, spinning and twirling as if he can barely stay focused on the task at hand.
“I own my own business. And yes, my sisters and I still live in Heartwood Hollow, where the curse originated,” I say.
“Ahh, yes. You own a bookstore, correct? A teal one?”
My brow furrows, unsure of how he knows that or why it matters, but I nod all the same. “Yes. Yes, that’s me.”
“Does your magic work with the store?”
I sigh, then nod. “Yes. Someone who is ready and willing to fall in love will read a book from my store, and then they fall in love with the next person they date.”
He takes me in, genuine interest on his face. “Fascinating. And yet, you can’t fall in love yourself,” he says.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s so fascinating—goddammit, Percy, no!
” I say, as Percy swipes a paw through my salt circle, breaking its containment.
Phillip immediately slips through, gleefully and swiftly moving around my house like he’s been let out of prison.
I stare at him with panic for a moment, unsure of what to do since Mom told me the spirits always have to stay within the circle or else you no longer have any control of when they leave or stay.
Ignoring my horrified looks, Phillip moves around my room, trying to pick up odds and ends but having his fingers only float through them.
My nerves ease with the revelation he’s just exploring, and a hint of pity runs through me.
I realize that I don’t actually know much about ghosts or spirits.
Can they only talk to people if they’re summoned, and that’s why he’s taking his sweet time, chitchatting with me?
Maybe he’s lonely, and this is his one chance for interaction.
But then I remember that this man is responsible for my heartbreak.
“Can we just cut to the chase?”
“And what would the chase be?”
“I want you to remove the curse on the Mayfield line so I can find my one true love and not have it end in heartbreak,” I say carefully.
You have to be incredibly specific when asking for something from a spirit, so I add, “I want the curse removed from my entire family, too, present and future, so all of the Mayfield women can fall in love without worry.” I wouldn’t want my sisters to never fall in love.
He looks at me, nodding once, then moves quickly and floats right through me, the bright, near-painful cold running through me and dissipating almost instantly before he’s in front of me once again, a disapproving look on his face.
“What did you have for dinner?”
“What?” I ask, caught off guard by his question.
“What did you have for dinner tonight, young lady?” Phillip asks, more frustrated than before.
“I…” My mind wanders, trying to remember what, if anything, I ate for dinner, but then I recall finding Michael cheating and getting started on my plan instead of eating dinner. It’s hard to eat when you’re experiencing your hundredth heartbreak.
“You didn’t eat dinner today, did you?” he asks.
I scoff and roll my eyes, crossing my arms on my chest. “What do my eating habits have to do with anything?”
“If I’m going to invest time in you and break the curse, I need to know you’re taking care of yourself.” A part of me lights up with hope because he’s not saying no. He’s not saying he isn’t going to help at all, so that has to be a good sign. Right?
“I didn’t eat because I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me today,” I say through gritted teeth. “But I have muffins on the kitchen counter that I’ll eat before bed.”
He nods approvingly. “What flavor?”
I blink a few times before answering. “What does it matter?”
“Don’t question my methods,” Phillip says grumpily.
I sigh, reminding myself to stay on his good side. “Lemon blueberry and double chocolate chip. My sister owns a bakery, and she makes them.”
His face lights up, despite him being a ghost and pale as, well, death. “Ooh, a bakery! What’s her specialty?”
Something in me snaps, and I put my hands on my hips, glaring at him. “Are you kidding me?”
“I’ve been dead for a year—I miss basic things like bakeries and muffins.”