Chapter 3 #3
All she could imagine was that he wanted to invite her to his wedding.
Yeah, she could imagine Alex expecting her to step back into his world—their world now—smiling through the toasts, pretending her heart didn’t ache every time someone said his name, every time he looked at his new bride.
She could already picture it: the clink of champagne glasses, the polite chatter, the tingle in her throat that had nothing to do with the bubbles.
Every smile, every note of laughter reminding her that the one time she’d tried, the one time she’d taken a chance and dared to believe, she hadn’t been enough. He’d chosen someone else.
Honestly, it was better to fly solo. That way, no one could get hurt.
“What does he want?” Luna asked.
Wren, seeing the curiosity in Luna’s eyes, held up her hand. “We’re not discussing Alex or, for that matter, Kyro, Lu. I’m here because I’m trying to distance myself from my dismal love life.” And figure out what she wanted from her career going forward. But that was a discussion for later.
Luna looked like she might argue, and Wren held her breath.
Her godmother finally pouted and wrinkled her nose, a little irritated at not being able to pry. “At least you recognize that it’s dismal. When do you think you will want to talk about it?” she asked, sounding hopeful.
Wren glared at her. “Uh … never?”
“You’re no fun,” Luna muttered.
Knowing that if she waited for Luna to shift her butt off her stool, they’d never eat, Wren grabbed plates from the cupboards and utensils from the drawer.
Walking over to the small dining table tucked into the fairy-light-decorated bay window at the far end of the kitchen, she pushed Luna’s books and papers aside and quickly set the table.
She glanced back at her godmother, who was looking at her, concern on her makeup-and-wrinkle-free face.
Suspecting she was in for another interrogation, Wren changed the subject. “Tell me your plans for this Halloween-in-Summer festival.”
Luna, immediately distracted, grinned. “Summerween. The festival is over a month long, and most of the accommodation establishments are already booked out for July.”
Wren drained the potatoes and hunted down a masher. “I saw all the skeletons in the ridiculous shirts, the flamingos and the watermelon jack-o’-lanterns,” she commented. “What events are you hosting?”
Luna shuffled in her seat, immediately excited.
“Ah … there’s an Ice Scream party, Float and Fright, which is an outdoor horror movie on a big screen, and the Boos and Boat Bash, the costume party on the lake.
What else?” She thought for a moment. “Oh, and of course we’ll end the festival with a Lammas blessing at midnight after the concert and the summer version of the Bonfire of the Bewitched. ”
The Bonfire of the Bewitched was where everyone in town—visitors and locals—gathered around a massive bonfire while listening to live music.
Wishes, regrets, and love notes were written on paper and tossed into the flames to “release them into the night.” It was her favorite part of the town’s massive Halloween festival, and she was glad it would be recreated in summer.
If only it was so easy—scribble a wish on a paper, toss it in the fire and wait for Life to fix her career doubts and her frankly alarming track record with unhinged men.
“I told you about the concert…” The hair on the back of Wren’s neck lifted. From experience, she knew that when Luna used her super-casual voice, trouble was barreling down the train tracks.
She lifted a fork and pointed it at her godmother. “I am not holding a dance class, Luna,” she stated, trying to pre-empt her.
“Let me give you some context,” Luna rebutted, winding her hair into a tail and pinning it to the back of her head with the crocodile clip clamped to her Witch, Please T-shirt.
“Don’t want to know, not interested, count me out,” Wren said.
Luna, because she was Luna, ignored her. “Someone suggested that you choreograph a dance routine for the teenagers, so they can show off their skills at the talent show.” The someone was, as Wren well knew, Luna herself.
Wren closed her eyes and tipped her head back to look at the ceiling. “Not doing that,” she said through gritted teeth. What part of here-to-relax-and-not-work did Luna not understand?
“There’s a studio at the community center, that’s where you’ll practice,” Luna continued, oblivious. “The sign-up sheet already has about twelve kids who are keen.”
Arrgh! “Luna!”
When Luna finally looked at her, Wren scowled at her again. “I am not doing it! So cancel it.”
Luna’s eyes widened. “And disappoint the kids?”
“They’ll cope,” Wren stated. “I, on the other hand, will go mad trying to teach teenagers.” She couldn’t, genuinely, think of anything she wanted to do less.
“You can’t do nothing for two months,” Luna told her, completely confident. Watch her! This was her vacation; she was taking some much-needed time off.
Luna’s request was like inviting a plumber to go to a spa and then demanding that he replace all the pipes.
“I can and I will,” Wren assured her. “Just wait and see.”
Luna and Morrigan shared the same expression: equal parts pity and disbelief.