29. A Fresh Start
TWENTY-NINE
A FRESH START
Whether you are attending a dinner party in human form or staying at a friend’s home during a particularly transformative full moon, arriving with a thoughtful gift shows your appreciation for the host’s efforts and generosity.
A gift need not be extravagant, but it should reflect the tastes of your host and the spirit of the occasion.
In some cases, a small token—perhaps a rare herb for an herbalist or a handcrafted trinket—can speak volumes.
The gesture itself fosters goodwill, strengthens bonds, and, most importantly, reflects the refined manners of a true gentleman, who understands that a well-chosen gift is the hallmark of gracious living in any form.
–EXCERPT FROM THE METAMORPHIC MAN: A GENTLEMAN SHAPESHIFTER’S GUIDE TO CULTURED CONDUCT
“I can’t believe I’m going to get to live in the Mudpuddle!
” Rosie squealed. She was walking beside Arthur, rolling a colorful, sticker-covered suitcase with one hand, and carrying an oversized cat carrier in the other arm.
Sitting regally inside the carrier was a large ball of white fluff.
One eye was bright yellow and the other blue.
Gemini observed Primrose Passage calmly and dispassionately through the clear window, like a princess being carried home in her litter.
Weren’t cats supposed to hate being confined and carted about, Arthur wondered?
“How soon do you think I can transfer to the school here? Wait till I tell my friends! I’m going to join some clubs.
How am I ever going to choose? I’d love to learn more about mythological beasts and be part of the folklore squad,” Rosie chattered on.
“But I love the idea of developing new and interesting potions and I’m pretty good at baking.
” She frowned, considering the difficult choices ahead.
Although it felt like more time had passed, it was only three days since the house had reappeared.
The plan for Arthur and Rosie to stay with Maida at the Mudpuddle for a few months had come together quickly.
Admittedly, Arthur had some trepidations about any of them attempting to live there. What if the bookshop disappeared again?
Amrita had minimized these concerns. “It’s extremely unlikely to happen again now that Maida is assuming guardianship of the property. The house went to great lengths to find her, and obviously felt safe enough to reappear,” she’d argued.
He maneuvered his suitcase around a pothole and turned back towards his daughter, considering her for a moment and wondering, yet again, if she’d experienced a full shift yet.
For years now, there had been glimmers, but nothing decisive.
He had no idea whether she would favor his side or her mother’s.
She wouldn’t talk about it with him, but he wished she would.
“You know this is only temporary, Ro. I’m just helping Ms. Westabrook get settled.
It might only be a few weeks. A few months at best. Just as long as there’s still an ongoing investigation at the Mudpuddle, and there are still legal issues.
Are you really sure it’s wise to switch schools for such a short time? ”
He already knew the answer that Rosie would give, so when he turned his head, the same look of utter disdain from both his daughter and her cat greeted him. It was as if they were both summoning all their patience not to snap at him.
“You know it’s always been my dream since I was little to live in Primrose Court.
All my friends are here. For once, I could just be normal and be myself.
Don’t you want that for me?” Rosie’s eyes narrowed.
“Perhaps,” she swallowed, and lifted her chin, “she’ll let us stay longer.
I can help with the investigation. I’ll make myself useful. ”
It was the slight wobble to her chin that did Arthur in.
He knew how much this move meant to her, perhaps more than anyone.
He’d longed to live in the magical community for his entire childhood, even after he’d been sent halfway around the world.
Perhaps it had been a mistake to hire Pearl to babysit Rosie when his daughter had been so young and impressionable.
All of her first friends, and many of her memories, had been made here.
Bardo Chan still lived here.
“We’ll see,” he said. “You know I want what’s best for you.”
“Well, it’s certainly safer in Primrose.” Rosie pointed out as she picked her way through the passage. Arthur was amused to see she was barely looking where she was going, muscle memory guiding her past jutting curbs, and uneven stones. He could navigate that passage with his eyes closed as well.
Rosie had a point. She was a tough kid, streetwise and capable of protecting herself.
She’d had to be. Arthur and Rosie hadn’t ever lived in the best neighborhoods.
He’d wanted to be close to clients, and his clients lived in rough areas.
The crime rate in Primrose was negligible compared to downtown Boston.
Living in the Mudpuddle was also a dream come true for him. Who wouldn’t want to dwell in the magical home that was so central to the entire community? Maybe she would feel more comfortable surrounded by peers. Comfortable enough to commit to a full public shift.
If Arthur was being completely honest with himself, as happy as he was for his daughter, he wasn’t only excited by the prospect of living in Primrose Court’s most famous domicile.
He was also thinking about Maida. A strange mix of curiosity and protectiveness tugged at his core.
He hated the thought of her living in the Mudpuddle all alone.
Maida wasn’t helpless, but she was in extremely unfamiliar territory.
She was going to need an ally, or at the very least, an advocate.
As her solicitor, he could provide a buffer between her and those that might give her a hard time.
He could help her explore her burgeoning powers.
He could catch her in his arms, should she fall?
That was as far as he let his mind wander.
He wasn’t prepared to address the more primal feelings he was experiencing beneath his calm facade.
Thank goodness he was adept at hiding his feelings.
But beneath his skin, his blood was moving faster than it had in years.
He was on high alert and had a heightened sense of his surroundings, unlike his usual experience when walking as a human.
It was like someone had stirred the soup of his soul with a stick and all the sediment was swirling.
“It has to be you, Arthur. You and Maida have a special connection.”
He couldn’t forget Amrita’s words. They fluttered through his mind, along with the memory of the ephemeral blue butterfly that came from Maida’s signature.
Whatever the spell was, he was driven by it.
Unable to resist. He didn’t just desire to protect her; he ached to be by her side.
Primrose Court was pulling him back as if by some sort of force.
It made him impatient, inclined to rush, as if every second he delayed, a pot might boil over and snuff out the flame.
He couldn’t get there quick enough, and wished he had a porter.
“Slow down,” Rosie complained. “Some of us aren’t giants.”
“I’m sorry. I just want to get there already.” Arthur slowed his pace, giving Rosie a moment to catch up.
“Let me take your bag for you, Ro.” He reached for the handle to the colorful suitcase that she was struggling with. Gemini blinked approvingly at him as he took it, and Rosie shifted the pet carrier to her dominant hand.
At last, Arthur stepped out into the sunshine filled park at the center of the magical community. He waited while Rosie set the cat carrier down on the bench and bent to tie the lace on her shoe that had come undone.
“Let me get it.” Arthur kneeled to tie her shoelaces, making a double knot like he had a thousand times when she was a little girl.
On the bench beside him, Gemini basked in the sunlight bathing her carrier and purred.
“I think she approves of this place.” He smiled as he straightened, glancing back down at the cat.
His heart nearly skipped a beat when he spied something next to Gemini’s carrier.
He ran a finger over the familiar, clumsily carved signature.
Arthur S. Hart. He couldn’t believe the letters were still here.
He’d scratched them on the bench as a child when he’d been coming to school here.
But they’d faded as soon as he moved away.
These benches held space for the tagging of current residents only. An odd sort of local privilege.
“I guess I don’t see the harm in your transferring schools.” Arthur exhaled slowly. “As long as you understand, it might only be for a few months.”
“Of course.” Rosie nodded excitedly. “And I can help with the shop. I mean it. I’d really love to do some baking.
I have a few ideas for things that might be a hit.
” She considered something. “You know, Bardo says they have excellent culinary arts classes at the Academy. If you can even get into that conservatory. That one’s super competitive.
It’s mostly witches. And I’m no witch but my dragon fruit, poppy seed muffins are practically addictive. ”
“Did Bardo say that too?” Arthur’s brows drew together.
“Maybe addictive wasn’t the right word.” Rosie rolled her eyes and picked up the cat’s carrier.
“But yes, Bardo also thinks my muffins are delicious. He certainly tried enough of them while I was perfecting the recipe. Ah Ma Pearl was the one who first suggested the crystalized ginger in the streusel, remember? I don’t know why you’re always picking on Bardo.
What do you have against him?” Her tone had taken on a sharp snap, and her pace was a great deal faster.
Now he was the one stepping more quickly to catch up.
Even Bardo’s own grandmother thought he was trouble.