Hungry for her bear, p.8
Hungry For Her Bear, page 8
Avoiding The Tasty Tart was difficult these last few days, but totally necessary. The cherry turnovers didn’t last an evening let alone the three that had passed since I’d received them.
Coffee and pastry withdrawal was hell on my system, but I would get over it. Eating plastic wrapped snack cakes was nothing like the fresh baked delights Bella’s artistry provided, but since I could not cook to save my life, it was the only other option.
I could not run the risk of seeing Ryan again this soon. If I did, two things would happen. One, I would jump the man and let him give me his mating bite, which could only lead to heartache and catastrophe. Or two, the second I laid my eyes on the seven foot hunk of burning bear I would quite possibly blow some shizzle up. With my emotionally heightened state, it was difficult to tell.
Unreasonable as it was, I was pissed at the bear. His little demands had left me unable to find satisfaction with any of my goodies, and a sexually frustrated hairdressing witch was not a good thing.
I’d scared away two of my clients already this morning after giving Henry the hedgehog Shifter a serious buzzcut. It was fine as far as buzzcuts went, only the man did not ask for one. He simply wanted a conditioning treatment for his spiky locks.
Inhale. Exhale.
Couldn’t be helped. The pointy ends of his hair were needle sharp, and I’d gotten tired of being stabbed. A buzzcut had been the only reasonable solution.
“The Chicky twins are here,” Gertie said a little too brightly, and I closed my eyes before greeting them with a wide, fake smile.
“Look what the---” Candice started.
“- cat dragged in.” Denice said, finishing her sister’s sentence in that creepy fashion of theirs.
“Nice to see you finally taking responsibility and showing up to work. You know---” Candice began once more, only to be cut off by her sister.
“- when we sold you the shop, we would have thought twice if it had occurred to us that you were flighty, Donatella Andrews.”
“Well, uh, her absence could not be avoided,” Gertie said in my defense, and I loved her for it.
I was really warming up to her these days. Heck. If she kept this up, I might have to ask my besties to bring her along to one of our girls’ nights out. We’d see. Baby steps.
“Thank you, Gertie. Now, ladies, what can I do for you?” I asked, knowing I had only just touched up their roots a few days ago.
The twins’ hair looked as good as two football helmet old lady heads could possibly look. I’d done a great job, as usual. And just as usual, they’d come back to complain as only two former stylists could.
“What can you---”
“- do for us? Ha!”
“Do you believe this one, Denice? She thinks she---”
“- can do something for us, I know, Candice. Unbelievable,” the old witch said, glaring at me.
“Do you see this?”
Denice and Candice spoke at the same time, both older witches pointing to the same spot on their heads. I could not for the life of me see a thing wrong with their hair, not the color or styling of it. Looked like they wanted to complain, and typically I would let them and give them free pedicures for their troubles, made up as they were.
But I was not in the mood to touch old lady feet for no reason. And I was not going to put Gertie through that either. Oh no. Not today. I was onto their games, and I was not putting up with it.
“Ladies, I see two identical, lovely hairstyles complete with a root touch up I gave you at a 30% discount just a few days ago. Now, if you would like to book a pedicure, see Gertrude on your way out and she will have a look at my schedule.”
“What?!”
“I never!”
The two crotchety twins gasped and clutched their purses to their matching mustard yellow dresses. They squinted at me as they whispered nastily, foregoing my suggestion they make an appointment for a pedicure, and pay for one rather than waste my time with imaginary complaints.
“Oh my Goddess! It is official. You are my hero!”
Gertie jumped up and down and clapped her hands. It felt good to get back a little control in my life after feeling so out of sorts. I winked at the blue-haired witch and offered to pay for both our lunches.
“Are we having Wok and Roll again?” I asked, and she just blushed.
“No. I was thinking pizza?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did the date not go well?” I asked, realizing I had forgotten about my assistant’s romantic adventures.
“Actually, it went fine. We’re seeing each other tonight too. But now that I got him, I don’t have to eat the same thing every day!” she exclaimed, and I giggled.
Gertrude was really something else. I had three remaining clients for the day, and two emergency walk-ins. It was super busy, and I was grateful for the distraction. My mind had been wandering all day. Thoughts of sexy grizzlies and their outrageously talented tongues kept popping up at the most inopportune times.
Finally, it was the end of the day. I’d just finished sweeping and pressed the start button on the magical crematorium with today's’ clippings.
I walked through town after closing up shop early. Gertie had given me a wide berth, and I knew it was all my fault, but honestly, my assistant could get annoying, so I was not all that upset about it.
The evening breeze was cool and refreshing. October was awesome in Castor’s Corner. Storefronts and homes alike were all decorated for the season with bales of hay, dried corn, scarecrows, and pumpkins that would stay up through November.
All Hallow’s Eve was a pretty big deal in these parts, too, for obvious reasons. Displays ranged from simple to extraordinary, but my favorites were the ones with thousands of tiny fairy lights in various shades of gold, orange, purple, and even black. Of course, most displays were enhanced by magic and the hardcore peeps would not be finished until the evening of the Halloween Bash.
Ugh. I didn’t want to think about the upcoming extravaganza. Evie had already hinted she wanted to do a Hollywood bombshells theme, but I was not feeling it. With my new and seemingly permanent hair-do, I wasn’t sure I could stand dressing up.
Okay. Fine.
I was getting used to the blonde. It went surprisingly well with my skin tone and coloring. It even flattered my unusually pale hazel eyes. They often switched from amber to mossy green to gray blue without any warning at all, and I’d often thought of them as my best feature.
Who knew blonde would be better on me? If I were being totally honest, I’d admit how much I rather liked the varying shades that went from ash to honey to platinum. But I wasn’t being particularly honest these days, was I?
Oh shaddap, I thought to myself.
Hugging myself, I strolled along on my Prada heels and my straight leg Armani jeans. They were high waisted and fit like a glove, I’d magicked them too, of course. They made my otherwise short legs seem positively long. An illusion, but a good one.
I loved high quality denim, and these positively hugged my curves. I’d topped them with an off the shoulder black lacy blouse, a vintage design I’d found at a Paris sidewalk sale in my college days when I’d traveled. Back then I’d thought I could get away from Castor’s Corner and my grumpy Granny.
I came back after switching to beauty school. It was hard on my parents who’d wanted me to follow a more traditional path, but I’d used what little gumption I had to stand up to them. The truth was, they’d loved me, and had been happy as long as I was happy. Granny not so much, but who cared?
I was glad I came home, now. Truly, I loved this town. I just didn’t quite know if it loved me back. Food for thought, for sure.
The cemetery loomed ahead, and I decided to take a stroll among the tombstones. It wasn’t as creepy as you’d expect. The place was in excellent condition as it was well-taken care of by the Castor’s Corner residents. Magical peoples tended to care a great deal about the resting places of their family and friends.
You never knew who was lurking around, watching, and taking notes. The Next Great Adventure was different for everyone, far as I knew, but I understood the reasoning. If you met your loved ones again last thing you wanted was for your mother to whack you for not keeping her headstone roses blooming.
But none of that really concerned me, I just wanted to walk and think. My birthday was coming up, one more day actually, and I was kind of saddened by that fact. Sure, my BFFs were planning some girls night or something, but I was not in the mood for celebrating. Why should I be?
Another year had already sped by. The thought was depressing. I mean, I was still alone, still toiling away at my salon, dealing with grouchy old witches, warlocks, and Shifters. I was still wondering if I was the right witch to fill the needs of the Castor’s Corner trifecta. I mean, what did I know? Hair? How the heck did that keep the town safe?
Forking crapozoids.
My mood was like rock bottom. On top of all that forkery, I was not even an Andrews anymore. I mean, it was still my name, but my father was a Castor by blood. Even if his mother had never told him about it, I knew the truth.
It was a heavy burden. The uncertainty about whether to tell my parents or not was starting to give me cramps. Ignorance was bliss, right? But why did I have to decide if it was appropriate to disrupt my Dad’s bliss, for fork’s sake?
Grandpa Al’s revelation had thrown me for a loop. As for Bella and Evie, well, none of us had really discussed it. I didn’t know if avoidance was just easier, or if we were all scared. Having an identity crisis was so not on my bucket list. But it was happening, nonetheless.
Sighing loudly, I stopped in front of the mausoleum where my life had been irrevocably changed only a few months ago. The Castorini mausoleum was as big and ominous as ever without being gaudy or over the top. Quite a feat really in a town that prided itself on caring for our dearly and not-so-dearly departed.
Grave upkeep was a big business. I wondered if Evie tended the mausoleum herself, or if she, like many others, hired outside services to see to it. There was a caretaker of course, but he had more than enough to keep him occupied.
I found myself walking around the stone crypt, reading the names that had been carved into it over the years with each passing family member. There was a dark splattering of mud covering one of the names of the deceased, and I stepped forward, not even hesitating to use my sleeve to wipe it clean.
“Alfonso Castor,” I muttered, shaking my head.
Figured it would be him. I shook my head and wiped the muck that was covering his name off my hand on a nearby tree. I was just about to turn away when suddenly I heard this groaning noise. Thick, black smoke began to billow from Grandpa Al’s name. The one I’d just cleaned. Fear crept up my spine, and I was frozen solid for a full three heartbeats.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me! No forking way,” I said aloud, stepping back as the black plumes grew larger and thicker.
Holy crapola.
Mouth gaping like a fish out of water, I stared in wonder as the ghostly image of Grandpa Al came siphoning out of the stone wall of the mausoleum. He looked awful too, like he’d been through hell and back.
“Donatella? Sei tu? Is that you, little one? I did not recognize you,” Grandpa Al said.
His voice sounded hoarse and weak, and he looked frail, even for a ghost. My eyes could not help, but dart to the area below his waistband that bore a large hole where his, er, manhood should be.
That’s what happened when you double crossed a witch, I thought and shook my head. An image of a certain smexy bear popped in my brain, but I pushed it away. I did not want to think about that right then. Besides, I’d thought Ivan, Evie’s familiar, had helped Grandpa Al crossover to the Next Great Adventure.
“Uh, yeah. It’s me,” I murmured, absentmindedly stroking a hand over my blonde locks. “What happened, Grandpa Al? What are you doing here?” I asked.
Before he could reply I found myself grabbing on to the tree next to me for balance. What felt like a miniature earthquake was shaking the entire cemetery. Heck! Could have been the whole town for all I knew.
“Hold on, ragazza! Careful,” the ghostly image warned.
As abruptly as it had begun, the shaking stopped. I exhaled the breath I did not even know I was holding and turned to face the floating specter. As terrified as I was confused, I waited for him to say something. I would have settled for anything really.
Things like this did not happen to me. I did not get ghostly visitations and the ground never shook beneath my feet, unless we were counting when a certain bear had his face buried between my thighs.
Eeek!
Nope. I was so not going to think about that in front of my dead grandfather. It was unseemly, for fork’s sake.
“I don’t know, child,” he replied.
“But you moved on?”
“It’s true, I did,” he said mournfully. “Ah! The Next Great Adventure was right on the horizon, and I can’t tell you how amazing I felt as it approached. But then, suddenly, poof,” he said the last word in an incredibly high-pitched voice.
“Poof?” I asked, waiting for him to go on.
“Yes. Poof,” he repeated in the same voice, making me wince involuntarily.
“One minute, Evie’s little familiar,” Grandpa Al began. His ghostly body, complete with gaping hole over his privates, sank down on a nearby headstone.
“The Domovyk called Ivan, was helping me move on. I thought he was successful, boosting my journey with his magic, but no, it seems he was not,” he explained wearily.
“Everything went white, like I was trapped in a fog. Then white turned to gray, then black, and I could see nothing at all. I knew I had been blocked off from the Next Great Adventure somehow.”
“What do you mean somehow? Do you think someone, or something is doing this? Like holding you back on purpose?”
“I better call the girls,” I muttered, reaching for my cell phone.
Before I could tap on the screen, the ghostly image of my grandfather flickered, and a noise like thunder sounded. My head jerked up then straight, and I saw him blink out of existence, then reappear directly in front of me.
“Oooh!” I yelled.
It was not like me to be so jumpy, but I’d been on edge. Plus, there was the whole sugar and caffeine withdrawal thing.
“I do not think it will help, Donatella. Evie has been here many times and I could not speak to her, nor could she see me. Bella too has visited, and it was the same. I think this is something only you can do,” he told me.
“Me?” I asked, shaking my head. It was difficult to believe that I could be of such importance. I mean, unless he wanted me to try to cut his ghostly hair or trim his spectral beard, what use was I?
“I want to help, but I can’t. I mean, what can I do?”
“It is something you will have to find out, dear one,” Grandpa Al said, his big, ghostly eyes practically begging me for help. “Please, I grow so tired. I know I was no angel, but I don’t want to wink out of existence. I want the Next Great Adventure. My fate is in your hands, my bellissima granddaughter.”
“It can’t be me. It has to be Evie or Bella,” I replied, shaking my head.
Self-doubt was an ugly accessory on anyone, and I hated feeling that way. But why on the Goddess’ green earth would anyone pick me to save them?
“There’s no mistake, Donatella. You’re the only one who can do this. Please, help me,” he said, spectral arms reaching for me before he faded from my sight.
“No! Wait. Oh, fucking hell!” I yelled, stomping my foot on the rocky path, scattering the dry leaves that had recently fallen from the oaks and walnuts that lined the cemetery.
Oopsies.
I forgot about the no cursing thing. Faster than I thought was even possible, I hustled my curvy little butt across the rocky grass path and ducked beneath a nearby tree a second before I heard thunder sounding overhead.
The zap of a pink lightning bolt made me yelp, but it missed me by a hair’s breadth. I wasn’t dumb enough to say so, though. Merely waited until the Goddess got it out of her mom-jean wearing system. I had that tidbit on good authority. Another gem from my best witchy linguist professor, Sassy Pants.
After waiting another moment longer, I scurried out of the cemetery with the news of Grandpa Al weighing heavily on my heart. The wind whipped wildly, and I shivered, wishing I had a jacket.
“Are you alright?”
The sound of a familiar voice had the still blonde hairs on the back of my neck standing straight up.
“What the fork?!”
I whirled around to see Ryan waiting for me. He’d been leaning casually against the cemetery gates but stood at attention the moment I’d turned to face him. Days had passed, but it felt like years as my heart threatened to run away with me.
It was so good to see him. The seven foot tall bear and his soulful brown eyes were a balm to my aching soul. Without thinking about anything else, I ran and launched myself at him. Ryan caught me in his arms easily, hugging me close, like I weighed nothing.
He swung me around and nuzzled my neck, his happiness contagious. I smiled even through my misery. And what’s better, I felt it too. Real happiness flowing through me.
“I got you, honey. Easy,” he murmured, leaving soft kisses on my cheek and neck.
“I have to call the girls,” I told him as he placed me down on my feet. “We’ve got trouble again.”
“Okay, they’re at the firehouse. I was supposed to come get you---”
“Why?” I butted in.
Fork my manners. I needed answers.
“Well, uh, they’re planning, um---”
“It’s a surprise party, isn’t it? For fork’s sake! I told them not to!” I huffed out a breath and rolled my eyes.
“If you don’t want to go, I’ll take you somewhere else,” he said, pointing to the shiny, royal blue pickup truck parked alongside the cemetery gate.
“No, it’s fine. We can go, but I’ll get us there. This can’t wait even a minute,” I said.
