7. Your Favorite Part
Your Favorite Part
FERN APPLETON
Thursday dawned bright and full of sunshine. Fern stretched her arms over her head, a yawn forcing its way out of her. Beside her, Bramble’s fluffy form remained curled comfortably against her hip. She smiled. “Up and at ‘em, my dear familiar.”
“Morning already? Boo,” grumbled the talking cat with a scowl. “Surely the bookstore doesn’t need to open at eight in the morning on such a beautiful day.”
“Alas, it does. Who else will put out the fall decor?” Fern asked him with a barely stifled giggle.
“Fine.” Bramble sighed the word, drawing out the ‘i’ dramatically.
Their usual morning routine passed like any other day. A can of wet food in his fancy dish and a good brushing for the tuxedo cat with his long black-and-white fur. Two eggs, scrambled, with homemade honey-wheat toast and tea for her.
Fern picked out a soft yellow sweater with daisies and paired it with a pair of high-waister khaki shorts.
She dug through her sock drawer until she located the pair she sought, matching sky-blue socks with daisies in bright white and yellow.
Then Fern reached for her dangling daisy earrings and fastened them securely through her pierced ears, smiling at her reflection in the mirror.
A musical “hmm” sounded from her familiar as he inspected her outfit for the day. “The last warm days of summer, I take it?”
“Of course!” she nodded. “I won’t be able to wear these by this time next week. The temperature is set to drop below seventy and stay there as of this weekend.”
“Fireside reading weather,” Bramble whispered, his tone dreamy.
With that, the two of them made the ten-minute walk from their cozy cottage to the Petals a perfect choice.
Her fingers ripped the corner from the paper packet and Fern placed the first few seeds into the soil.
Every other divot she had made gained a few marigold seeds.
When that was done, she reached back into her apron to select the next flower.
Ballerina tulips, she thought with a smile.
As Fern tucked a few seeds into each of the other indents, she caught the familiar refrain of “I’ll Put a Spell on You” playing over the speakers that lined Main Street.
If you don’t believe, you’d better get superstitious
I put a spell on you, a wicked spell
Fern held both palms above the flowerpot, just a breath away from touching the soil itself.
Her hands grew warm, a small glow emanating from them as they began to sparkle and tingle.
The way that they always did when she worked her plant magic.
She could feel it all the way to her core, the rightness of it.
After a minute or so, the seeds sprouted roots.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the roots grew and wound their tendrils through the damp soil.
In her mind, Fern could see them stretching and growing, turning and twisting.
By the time five minutes had passed, the first little green sprout poked its head up through the dirt, and her heart leaped.
“Magic,” whispered Bramble into the silence around them.
It seemed as if all of Main Street had gone quiet, only the faintest hum of motion and noise at the edge of her vision.
No one stepped out from the coffee shop or approached the bookstore.
No squirrels chattered in the trees above them.
All that existed in this moment was Fern, her familiar, and her magic.
She hummed a cheery tune as she repeated these steps at the next large outdoor flowerpot. The same two flowers were planted, allowing for the matching set to flank the front doors of Petals & Pages. They needed something more to make the display feel full, though.
Tucking one hand back into her apron pocket, Fern tugged out a packet of calendula seeds. Her eyes crinkled as she ran one finger over the label and nodded to herself. Minutes later, the first hint of green peeked through the soil where she had planted them.
Satisfied, Fern moved on to the window planters along the store’s front windows.
She repeated the process dozens of times, until each and every display had sprouted their first green shoots.
This year, with three new types of flowers for their fall garden, she wondered which would wind up being her favorite blooms.
The day passed in a blur of magic, soil, and playful Halloween songs in the background as she concentrated.
With diligent care over the next five days or so, Fern would have her flowerpots full to bursting with pretty yellow, orange, and red blossoms. Pride swelled in her chest at the sprouts she could see and the vision of the shop full of fall flowers in her mind.
This year, she would do it all by herself.
No help from her parents, no one reminding her to feed them a little magic and plant food and water twice a day to encourage growth.
No, this year, Fern would show everyone that she had the magic touch her family was known for and could do it all on her own.