13. Dance the Night Away
Dance the Night Away
FERN APPLETON
By Friday morning, Fern could hardly contain her nerves. She felt like a slight breeze might be enough to knock her over, her anticipation was so great. Bramble helped her open the bookstore as he did every day, but this time he peppered her with questions.
“Have you decided what you’ll wear tonight, little witchling?” he asked with one raised eyebrow. “Do you think you’ll hold hands? I imagine she is a fine dancer.”
“Bramble, please!” she snapped, twisting a lock of her hair around her fingers.
“You’re right, I should just follow you all evening. I wouldn’t be able to manage a nap under these circumstances, anyhow,” said her familiar with a deep chuckle.
“Not. Helping,” Fern ground out as the bell above the door jingled, alerting them to their first customers of the day.
A mother with two little ones, each holding one of her hands, stepped through the front doors and headed toward the children’s book section.
“Good morning!” called Fern loudly. “How can I help you today?”
“Oh, no need to fuss over us. We’re just picking up a new bedtime story,” said the woman.
She ushered her children to the tiny table and tiny chairs, where they took their seats as she pulled out several options from the shelves.
Fern watched as they discussed each book, trying to decide on which new one to get to celebrate the Pumpkin Festival.
Her own mother had spent countless hours making such recommendations to the families of Pumpkin Hollow over the years.
If tonight went well, would that be Fern in a few years? Would she fall in love and start a family? Become a wife and mother? It’s just a first date, calm down! She thought to herself. But her mind continued to spiral in that general direction.
The previous night, it had taken two sleepy time teas and a long, steamy bath to calm herself enough to finally fall asleep. When she had slept, Fern had dreamed. The details had faded swiftly after she woke up, but the general feeling of being loved and happy remained.
It seemed more than a little ambitious to be thinking about marriage and children when she hadn’t even been on a single date with the beautiful, intimidating Sparrow Blackburne yet.
Nevertheless, her subconscious kept supplying images of the two of them in the future.
Dancing and laughing and sharing sweet, slow kisses in Fern’s garden.
Still, the questions circled in her mind.
Could this be the start of something? Could this be her very own happily ever after?
She ought not to get her hopes up. But each time she had run into the gorgeous older witch last month, something in her heart had shifted.
From mere admiration to attraction, and from there to a strange affection.
Sparrow would not be considered friendly or outgoing by those in Pumpkin Hollow who knew her from their school days.
Yet the witch had never shown Fern anything but kindness.
Maybe a bit rough around the edges, she supposed, but still.
She had given up her entire weekend and dragged her sister along to help Fern with her responsibilities.
There had been no good reason for her to do that.
If all Bramble had truly done was ask for her help, then Sparrow had agreed to it of her own accord.
Had she been thinking of Fern as much as Fern had been thinking of her over the past weeks?
Could it mean that she had wanted to spend more time with Fern?
“We’ll take this one,” said the woman cheerfully as she approached the counter.
“Oh! Ready to check out?” Fern shook her head, trying to clear her mind.
Both children told her bits and pieces about the book that they were obviously excited to read at home that night. She listened and nodded along, letting them prattle as they pleased. They quickly changed the subject to the first day of the Pumpkin Festival, which began in a few hours.
“We’re going to ride the Ferris wheel!” shouted the little boy, throwing a triumphant fist in the air.
His sister jumped up and down. “We’re going to get caramel apples from Frank!”
“That sounds like so much fun,” Fern giggled at their enthusiasm.
“Will you be going with anyone special tonight, Fern?” asked their mother with a smile.
“S-someone special?” stuttered the purple-haired witch, her face turning bright red.
The woman gave her an even bigger smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, good. You should get out there and dance the night away! Enjoy your twenties to the fullest.”
“Okay. Um, thank you,” Fern choked out, her blush darkening.
When they exited the shop, she covered her face with both hands.
A little squeal escaped her lips as she tried to calm her racing heart.
She hadn’t even considered what they would do on their date tonight—she had been entirely wrapped up in the fact that Sparrow Blackburne had asked her out in the first place. Now, she tried to envision it.
The sun setting in an explosion of orange and pink across the horizon as they walked hand-in-hand through the festival stalls, buying trinkets and snacks.
Would Sparrow like the same snacks that she did?
The twinkle lights coming to life as the sun disappeared behind the horizon, lighting up the sky until the moon rose to her full glory. Where would they watch it from?
Suddenly, Fern realized how little she knew about the enthralling older witch that she had admired for so long.
Did Sparrow like roller coasters? Or perhaps only smaller, more tame rides?
Did she like sweet treats like funnel cake with too much powdered sugar and chocolate sauce?
Or would she prefer the hot mulled cider and savory foods offered at the market instead?
Oh, goddess, she thought suddenly. I don’t even know what her type is!
Should I wear a dress or pants? All the options in her closet swam across her mind as she tried to decide which version of herself Sparrow would prefer to spend the evening with.
She hardly had anything black or gray in her wardrobe, as the colors didn’t suit her sunny personality or pastel hair.
“Whatever is the matter, my little witchling?” Bramble asked as she paced the floor behind the counter.
“I don’t know what I should wear! What she would like,” Fern let out all in one breath.
“Is that all?” asked the cat. “It is but a first date, sweet girl. There is plenty of time to learn such things as you go along.”
Fern trembled. “But what if this is the only chance I get? She’s so far out of my league, so mature and cool. What if she realizes I’m just a hot mess?”
“Settle, my love. It’s not as dire as all that,” said Bramble reassuringly. “Besides, everyone can see that she is smitten with you, little ray of sunshine.”
“They can? You can?!” Fern gasped.
“Most certainly, little witchling,” her familiar replied with a gentle smile.
The rest of the day seemed to pass in a blur as Fern wondered what she would learn about Sparrow that night on their date.
Would she be gentlemanly and polite? Or perhaps flirtatious and commanding, like the other day in the storage shed?
Her heart raced at the thought. If Sparrow Blackburne told her to hold still so she could kiss her, Fern might just faint.
Closing the bookstore took less time than usual, since neither she nor Bramble could concentrate on anything else. Instead, they locked the doors and turned the “closed” sign in the window and hurried home. Whatever mess they had missed in their rush would be there for her to deal with come Monday.
Fern spent nearly an hour trying on outfits in front of her full-length mirror, frowning at her reflection as she examined each outfit from a variety of angles.
Nothing felt quite right. Her favorite pair of jean short overalls with a muted orange shirt and pumpkin earrings, maybe.
Those black skinny jeans she never wore with a blouse and light cardigan, in case it got cooler than she expected.
No, not that, either. She surveyed the pile of clothes lying haphazardly around her bedroom and sighed.
Most people in Pumpkin Hollow would wear some combination of black, purple, and orange each night for the festival, to get in the spirit of things.
With her purple hair, though, Fern worried she might look a little too… cotton candy if she wore more pastels.
What if Sparrow didn’t like her colorful style that drew attention to them? Fern sighed exasperatedly. A soft clearing of a throat behind her made her turn around.
“How about this?” asked Bramble, his outstretched paw pointing to a yellow dress at the back of her closet.
“I forgot that I had that,” Fern breathed out, reaching for it. She held it up in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, trying to envision it.
“Put it on, silly little witchling!” encouraged her familiar.
She slipped out of her latest rejected outfit option for the night, tossing the garments on the bed with the rest of the discarded pieces.
As Fern shimmied into the pretty dress the color of freshly bloomed daffodils, she held her breath.
In the mirror, she could see the way the sweetheart neckline complimented her figure, tucking in at her waist and showing off her not-so-ample cleavage.
The dress hugged her curves, skimming over her hips and ending just below her knees.
It had enough volume that it would twirl nicely if she did wind up dancing tonight but was long enough that there would be no risk of flashing anyone her panties.
Fern could dance with abandon, really live in the moment, as the customer from earlier had told her to do.
“That’s the one,” Bramble said from the bed where he sat observing her.
“Is it…fall enough, though?” asked Fern anxiously. “Is it too summery?”
He shook his head, reminding her that she had plenty of fall accessories that would alter the look.
Together, they looked through her closet to find the perfect pieces.
A light-weight, sheer orange shrug would stave off the chill just a bit and would be far easier to carry around if it wound up staying warmer than anticipated.
An orange velvet choker and a matching bracelet brought more warmth to the look.
Fern had a pair of handmade clay earrings shaped like black cats in front of a full moon—she pulled them out now, trying them on.
They were very cute, but maybe not the ideal choice—the cat figure had a tendency to get tangled in her long purple hair.
Then she remembered the stacked pumpkin set she had gotten at the Pumpkin Festival last year. Fern dug through her earrings, searching for the new ones she hadn’t even worn yet. She grinned when she located them, replacing one cat and moon with the three stacked pumpkins instead.
“Which ones, Bramble?” she asked, turning her head to one side then the other.
He considered this for a long moment, making her turn back and forth two more times before he came to a decision. “The pumpkins.”
With that sorted, she focused her attention on her shoes. “Should I wear the classic little black booties, for that Practical Magic look?”
“Perhaps. Let’s see it,” her familiar spoke slowly.
Fern slipped the ankle boots on and zipped them up, twisting her ankle to get a better look at the two-inch heels and the little boost they gave her.
They weren’t the most comfortable pair of boots that she owned, but they were definitely the most quintessentially witchy.
She wore them every year to the Pumpkin Festival at least once.
But she wasn’t convinced that they went well with her butter yellow dress and all its soft ruffles. The plain black boots felt just a bit too jarring, Fern realized.
“No, I think not,” Bramble said with a sigh. “What else have you got?”
Back through her closet she dug, trying to locate a pair of shoes that would feel appropriate with this dress and for a first date that was also a Pumpkin Festival Day.
Then she saw them—the orange suede chunky heels with long ribbons that tied halfway up her calves.
They were sturdy enough to dance in, yet lightweight enough that her feet wouldn’t be killing her tomorrow from wearing them all night while they wandered.
Fern hurriedly slipped into them, tying the ties carefully so that they made a little bow on the outside of each of her calves. She turned sideways as she faced the mirror, holding up her skirt to see the way the shoes looked on her legs.
“These, right?” she asked.
“They’re perfect,” her familiar said, his eyes twinkling. “Now spell them into place so they won’t come undone while you walk about.”
“Oh, good point,” Fern giggled. She concentrated as she performed a simple enchantment to keep the fabric from moving without her knowledge. Her magic at such things was faint at best, but she could usually maintain a charm this small for a few hours.
“You look absolutely stunning, my little witchling,” Bramble sighed like a proud mother. “Sparrow Blackburne will have no idea what hit her.”
She blushed, turning away from her familiar. “I only wish to enchant her as she has enchanted me.”
“And so you will, my dear,” answered the cat just as the doorbell rang.
“She’s here!” Fern squeaked.
With that, she hurried to the front door to meet Sparrow. A beautiful full moon night full of Pumpkin Festival fun awaited them. She could wait no longer for her love story to begin.