14. Goodnight, Little Witch
Goodnight, Little Witch
SPARROW BLACKBURNE
At five in the evening on Friday, Sparrow Blackburne rang the doorbell to Fern’s cozy little lavender cottage.
As close as it sat to Main Street, it would be an easy walk to the Pumpkin Festival, so she had opted to walk from her apartment.
The crisp chill of the autumn wind nipped at her nose as the sun slipped behind a row of clouds, riding lower in the sky than it had an hour ago. Night would arrive shortly.
She had agonized over what to wear for her date with the adorable cottage witch, changing her outfit thrice before consulting her twin.
Lark, of course, had had suggestions—and too nervous to decide for herself, Sparrow had simply obliged.
Now, as she stood on the front steps of the cute little house where Fern and Bramble lived, she tried to calm her racing heart.
A pair of slim-fitted black pants, pressed within an inch of their life, cinched above her belly button with a silver clasp.
Her top was a classic white button-down, also ironed properly, with a black velvet bow tied at her throat.
Atop it sat a burgundy vest, Sparrow’s personal favorite from her collection.
To complete the look, Lark had insisted she wear her black capelet with the navy and gold night sky patterned fabric on the inside.
And a wide-brimmed black hat that would keep her ears from freezing if the night grew too cold.
Sparrow had been willing to admit that her sister had excellent taste and that the look felt sophisticated. Put- together. Date-worthy.
“Be cool, Blackburne,” she chided herself. “It’s just a date.”
But the way she could hear the beat of her heart in her ears seemed to disagree with that statement. Anticipation crept through her veins as she tried not to tap her fingers on the iron railing as she waited, her nervous energy desperately seeking an outlet.
The front door to the cottage swung open at last, revealing Fern Appleton in a stunning sunshine-colored dress that complimented her lavender waves far more than Sparrow would have guessed. Her mind went blank as she took in the sight of the pretty young witch, all dressed up just for her.
“Good evening, Sparrow,” Fern said softly, her tone shy.
Sparrow’s eyes roamed her curvaceous figure, from the strappy orange velvet platform heels she wore to the little lavender space buns she had tucked her hair up into.
A deep orange sweater hung over one arm, a near perfect match for the choker that sat just at the nape of her neck.
Little pumpkins dangled from her ears, drawing her attention once more.
The way that the yellow dress accented her every soft curve, the swell of her hips, and cinched at her waist distracted Sparrow entirely.
Between the sweetheart neckline of the dress and the orange choker lay pink, peachy skin that begged to be touched.
If Sparrow couldn’t maintain her composure, she might just give in to placing a gentle kiss to Fern’s shoulder.
Shaking her head, she tried to focus. “Hello, Little Witch.”
“Another stunning autumn evening in Pumpkin Hollow,” said Fern with a small smile. “I absolutely love living in Pumpkin Hollow.”
“Indeed,” replied Sparrow with a smile of her own.
“Isn’t it just magical this time of year?” asked the younger witch, those hazel eyes glittering.
“It truly is. Shall we?” Sparrow asked softly, extending her wrist to offer Fern her arm.
The rose-colored blush that immediately colored Fern’s cheeks made her smile. “Lets.”
For all that they had grown up in this same small town, separated by only a few years, the younger witch treated her like a celebrity. Perhaps in their school days, she and Lark had been pretty popular, but in the years since, Sparrow had led a fairly quiet life.
Yet the flush on Fern’s cheeks made her wonder if the younger witch had perhaps fancied her back then.
Could that be why she behaved so nervously around Sparrow?
She could hardly remember if they had ever crossed paths in those days.
They had grown up only a few miles apart and yet never truly interacted until the past month.
Now, Sparrow could hardly understand how she had not taken notice of Fern before.
The younger witch gave off such warm, friendly vibes.
Her outgoing nature and bright, playful outfits made her easy to talk to for witches of all ages.
Had she truly never stepped into Petals & Pages Bookstore in the years since Fern’s parents had retired?
Their steps echoed on the sidewalk as they made the short journey over to Main Street. The bookshop in all its fall glory made Sparrow pause, wanting to admire it again.
“It truly looks spectacular, doesn’t it?” Fern whispered in a hushed tone.
“It does,” Sparrow replied. “We make a good team, little witch.”
They passed the neon sign for Frank’s Diner, lit up even before the sun had set on Pumpkin Hollow.
The siren song of the best fast-food place in town would call to the festival goers as the evening wore on and carnival food could no longer sustain them.
Frank and his team would have plenty of carnival treats like caramel apples and funnel cake to sample at the event, but not much in the way of a hearty meal.
Sparrow wondered if it would have been better to bring Fern to the diner for their first date—something a bit more casual, more private, than going to the Pumpkin Festival where the whole town could see them. Did Fern feel like everyone was watching them? Because she certainly did.
But, more likely than not, the reason she felt eyes on her back was actually just her sneaky, mischievous sister and the talking cat trailing behind them as a less-than-discreet distance.
The faintest whisper of a high-pitched giggle carried on the wind to Sparrow every few minutes, and she’d know her twin’s laughter anywhere.
While Bramble managed to keep his voice down far better than Lark, Sparrow felt certain that the two of them had absolutely colluded to shadow Sparrow and Fern on their date. Her sister had said as much more than once in the last week, and likely the familiar had done the same to his witchling.
“Oh, how gorgeous,” gasped Fern, her hands covering her mouth.
Sparrow found herself struggling to look away from the delighted expression on the younger witch’s face. The way those warm hazel eyes sparkled as they took in the sight of the Pumpkin Festival, sprawled out across Main Street from the post office to The Brew & Broomsticks Bed and Breakfast.
A Ferris wheel, food carts, vendor tents full of wares, all surrounded by riotous orange and yellow trees. The park and town gazebo sat at the center of it all, decked out in garlands of orange leaves and twinkle lights that would switch on within the next hour or so.
Behind them sat the Wicked Whisk bakery and Enchantresso, the town coffee and tea shop.
Goldie, who ran Enchantresso, got all of her pastries from the bakery next door, allowing residents of Pumpkin Hollow to grab both in one fell swoop on busy weekday mornings.
Sparrow loved that Goldie knew everyone’s favorite drinks, even their seasonal preferences.
She could hardly remember the last time she had had to actually order her coffee exactly the way that she liked it. And Goldie had known exactly what to make for Fern when Sparrow had struggled to remember the correct title for the steaming tea that the pretty young witch liked.
The wrought-iron lampposts and string lights would give the entire event a particularly cozy glow once the sun set. Her eyes jumped from stall to stall, ride to ride, trying to figure out where to start.
“What should we do first?” Sparrow turned to Fern, raising her eyebrows dramatically.
“The pumpkin ring toss is always fun,” she replied.
They wandered like that, each taking turns suggesting the next activity.
Sparrow suggested they participate in the candle-making class, which it turned out she was quite good at but Fern struggled with.
When Fern suggested they get their faces painted, she almost shook her head—Sparrow had never allowed Lark to convince her to do this, insisting it was for the little witches.
The palpable excitement on Fern’s face made her pause before she outright refused.
Instead, she took the witch’s hand and headed in the direction of the face painting booth.
As they approached, the sign displaying the options available for the Pumpkin Festival became visible, and Sparrow spent several minutes assessing them.
“Oh, look!” gasped Fern, pointing. “They have a candy corn design!”
Indeed, they did. It included orange, yellow, and white eyeshadow as well as little candy corns dancing along the bridge of the nose and over the cheeks.
Little sparkles and an orange eyeshadow base gave it an enchanting look.
Just like that, she found herself dragged into line behind a half dozen little witches, while Fern bounced on her toes beside Sparrow.
“What will you get?” asked the younger witch, turning those big hazel eyes on her.
Sparrow hesitated. “Something simple, probably. I don’t really do things like this.”
“Oh,” whispered Fern, the disappointment evident in her voice.
“But I’m willing to try it. For you,” she hurried to add.
When Fern’s face lit up, Sparrow knew she had said the right thing. “I think you should get the orange blush with the white stars and moon, to match your cloak.”
“I…hadn’t considered that,” she admitted, turning to inspect the design now that they were closer to the board.
Forty minutes later, they stepped out of the face painting booth with freshly applied designs. Fern immediately insisted that they locate the photobooth to commemorate the occasion. When she smiled like that, all crinkling hazel eyes and pink cheeks, Sparrow found she could deny her nothing.