Enchanted autumn, p.23
Enchanted Autumn, page 23
After breakfast, Hazel showered, and they drove out to the beach. It was blustery and cold, and they had the small beach in Salem to themselves. Elizabeth brought her thermos again, and they sat in a sheltered spot in the sun, sipping tea and enjoying the view.
“Thanks for this gift of a morning,” said Hazel. “I feel rested again for the first time in weeks.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Elizabeth sipped her Earl Grey. “As a girl, I never thought twice about the work that went into running my grandparents’ shop, but now, seeing how it works as an adult, I just can’t imagine doing it full-time.”
“It’s not always this crazy. In fact, it’s pretty quiet in winter. That’s when I catch my breath.”
“Was it always your dream to run a paranormal shop in Salem?”
“Actually no. It was always my dream to have a bookstore, but it’s a hard business these days. The Witch Is In allows me to live my dream but also make a living.”
“That makes sense.”
“So you don’t mind that you’re dating a witch?”
“What? Oh, yes, the name of the shop.” Elizabeth smiled. “Very clever. It’s true you’ve got a magic touch when it comes to small business.”
“But seriously…when you first arrived, you didn’t seem to much like any of the campy side of Salem. And here we are, dating and…I do tarot card readings.”
“True,” said Elizabeth, feeling a little embarrassed. “To be honest, it was a little off-putting at first. But after working in the shop off and on and helping out, and being here longer, I realized I was judging Salem and the shop, and you, on a first impression.”
“Really?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Absolutely. This past week I’ve sold a lot of postcards and crystals, but also a lot of books. And I’ve seen how people love the shop, and they love you. The shop is a community space where people come in to learn, to connect. You’ve created a really lovely space. I admire that.”
“Thank you,” said Hazel, her voice sounding a little emotional.
She smiled, and Elizabeth felt a surge of warmth. She put her arm around her and kissed her. They had the beach to themselves. She held Hazel close and deepened the kiss. It felt like a rare luxury to grab this moment by themselves amidst the madness of the shop and the festival, and Elizabeth didn’t want it to stop. Hazel’s lips were warm and soft, and she felt a fire ignite inside her. She wanted more, but Hazel was already pulling away.
“I’m getting pretty cold just sitting here. Let’s go for a walk and then head back for lunch.” She smiled warmly at Elizabeth, and somewhat reluctantly, she got up to walk along the beach. The wind was fierce, and they didn’t last long, but still, Elizabeth was glad she could spirit Hazel away from the shop and her work responsibilities, even if only for a little while.
As they drove back to the shop, Elizabeth let her mind drift a bit. She had been looking forward to the end of October so much lately that she hadn’t stopped much to think that the end of October meant her research trip to Salem was already one-third over. Two more months and it would be Christmas and New Year’s. Of course, she had time planned for travel, and she could certainly extend her return flight. England in winter was miserable, and at least here she could enjoy some snow and more downtime with Hazel. But what about after that? Originally, she’d planned to spend the spring semester of her fellowship back in England working from home, but now she was wondering if there was a way to extend her stay in the US.
She’d been trying to ignore the question of what would happen in the New Year, reasoning logically that it was too soon in the relationship to worry about that. But now, she felt so close to Hazel, and yet, they’d only just begun. She wanted to see where things would go.
Don’t get ahead of yourself. There was still plenty of time to develop their relationship, she reminded herself, and she’d have plenty more time with Hazel once the Halloween festival was wrapped up.
Chapter Twenty-two
They returned to the shop in the afternoon, as promised. Hazel was pleasantly surprised to find everything working smoothly. Camille and Rita were running the registers while Roxy straightened shelves, ran price checks for customers, and swept up messes as needed.
Roxy looked a little shy of her when she came over to see how she was rearranging the display of books on the history of Halloween.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” said Hazel. “Elizabeth told me how you helped her engineer this whole morning off for me.”
“It’s the least I could do, milady,” said Roxy, bowing low and doffing an imaginary hat.
When she stood up again, Hazel threw her arms around her in a bear hug. She’d missed Roxy so much since their fight. “I’m so sorry for not coming to find you as soon as Camille told me what’d happened. You were right. I was being selfish.”
Roxy shook her head vehemently. “Nuh-uh. You’re not going to take the blame on this one. The only person, er, being to blame for all this is Camille.”
“You’re absolutely right. I guess it turns out you’ve always been right about her.”
Roxy shrugged. “Someone’s gotta be the brains of this operation.” She glanced at Camille. “But we had a little chat, and I talked some sense into her. I mean, I still wouldn’t trust her to water my plants, but she knows she messed up big time. When I told her what we were doing today, she was in.”
They chuckled, and already Hazel felt better. “Forgive me? Friends again?”
“Absolutely,” said Roxy. She lowered her voice. “Just so you know, though, I am still counting on you to come through with that antidote. That potion is still making me low-key obsessed with you-know-who and it’s not a good look on me. I’m managing, but it makes me feel all kinds of crazy.”
Hazel looked more carefully and saw that indeed, Roxy was looking pale and drawn under the facade of cheerfulness. “Oh, Roxy, I’m so sorry. Yes, it’ll be ready on Halloween. Stop by in the morning, and I’ll give you some then and there.”
“What about her?”
“Yes, I’ll give it to her, too. I just have to decide when will be the best time to do it.” She paused, feeling completely transparent. “Don’t judge me.”
“Who? Me? Never,” said Roxy with a smile. “I know you’ll do the right thing. Anyhoo, I’ve gotta dash. Got some errands to run. By the way, is your costume ready?”
“Yes, though just barely,” said Hazel. “I procrastinated as usual.”
“Ha! I got you beat, then. Mine’s been ready for ages.”
Hazel was intrigued.
“Okay then. Let’s keep it a little secret and we can do our big reveal on Halloween.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Roxy.
Hazel walked Roxy out of the shop and then checked the look of the window displays from the outside, as well as the positioning of the twinkle lights around the windows. She had to admit, everything looked pretty amazing now that the windows were crystal clear and clean. Between the festival preparation, love potion fiascos, and the stress of not knowing where she stood with her best friend and her romantic interest, all her cleanliness charms had faded away, leaving the shop looking the worse for wear.
She’d studiously avoided looking back at the register earlier; she wasn’t ready to talk to Camille yet. She took a deep breath and sighed. She supposed they would have to interact again at some point.
When she returned to the shop, though, Camille was gone. It was just as well. She needed to focus on preparing for the festival. Now that things were a little more settled with Roxy, some of the emotional drama was finally dying down, and she felt like she could breathe a sigh of relief.
That evening, Hazel and Elizabeth went out for pizza at another pizza by the slice place. Hazel had a slice of mushroom and olive, and Elizabeth went for a classic slice of pepperoni.
“Mmm, this is to die for,” she said, closing her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be able to have pizza again when I return to England. Everything there pales in comparison.”
“Just wait until you get to New York. The pizza there is even better.”
“I can’t imagine anything better.”
“Thank you, again, for everything. For helping at the shop, for giving me a morning off…I feel like a new person.”
“My pleasure. It looked like you and Roxy patched things up.”
“Yes, thank goodness,” said Hazel. “And I have you to thank for that, too.”
“I like doing nice things for you, Hazel. Sometimes I feel like it’s been a while since anyone did anything nice for you. Roxy included.”
Hazel sighed with pleasure as she finished off the last bite of pizza. “She can be a little selfish, it’s true. But I think she’s realizing it more and more.”
“She mentioned the two of you have been friends for ages. That’s really amazing. I don’t think there’s anyone from primary school that I’m still friends with.”
“We are pretty lucky. Friends ever since the second grade. I brought Beezle to school for show-and-tell, but when I told kids that Beezle was my best friend and I could talk to him and he understood me, the other children laughed. Only the skinny, funny-looking new kid at the back of the class, the one that nobody could figure out if they were a boy or a girl, wasn’t laughing.”
“Roxy, I take it?”
Hazel nodded.
“The teacher told everyone to settle down, but it was still very upsetting to be laughed at by the entire class at the tender age of seven. At recess, it was Roxy who came and found me, alone, under a tree, trying not to cry. She told me she believed me that I could talk to my cat and helped me plan a prank to get back at the biggest class bully.” Just a for a moment, it felt like that day in second grade was just yesterday. In spite of everything, she knew she and Roxy would always be close; they had a history that bound them together. “Ever since, we’ve been thick as thieves. We grew apart some while I was away at college, but when my dad died, she was absolutely there for me.”
“And you’ve always been there for her, too.”
Hazel nodded. She wished she could tell Elizabeth the rest of the story from the second grade. She remembered that blustery October day like it was yesterday, and she allowed herself to drift into the memory.
She’d been sitting on the playground, and the girl with short, dark hair, dressed in boy’s clothes came over to say, “Hey, I liked your cat.”
“Thanks.”
“I believed you, you know. That you can talk to your cat. Those other kids are jerks.”
“Thanks.”
“Wanna go put bugs in their lunch?”
Hazel giggled. “That sounds awful. Won’t we get in trouble?”
“Probably, but that’s never stopped me. I’m Roxy, by the way.”
“I’m Hazel.” She looked at the tomboy next to her and decided to trust her. “I have a secret. I’m a witch, and I can do magic.”
“Cool!”
“Forget the bugs, I have a better idea.”
Roxy had accepted Hazel’s difference without so much as a blink of an eye that sunny, blustery day on the playground. She watched with excitement and approval as Beezle liberated himself from the classroom, where he’d been forced back into his carrier, and made his way over to the class bully, Jimmy Johnson. As a young witch, Hazel couldn’t do much magic, but she could communicate with her familiar easily.
Gleefully, Hazel and Roxy had watched as Beezle went over to Jimmy on the playground and wound his way around Jimmy’s legs, as though affectionately caressing him. Suddenly, though, they saw Jimmy go stiff, his eyes big with fright as he looked at the cat and then over at Hazel and Roxy, who were dying with laughter.
He ran over to them, his eyes flashing with anger and fear.
“What did you do to that cat? How did you? How?” He could barely get the words out.
“What on earth do you mean, Jimmy?” asked Hazel between giggles. “All I saw was that Beezle seems to like you.” She scooped up the black cat that was now rubbing itself on her own legs. “Aren’t you a friendly kitty, Beezle.”
Jimmy pointed an accusatory finger at Hazel and the cat.
“That cat…it…it said something! It called me a dingbat!”
A crowd of kids had gathered to watch the confrontation, many of them the same ones who had laughed at Hazel at show-and-tell. Now, though, they were laughing at Jimmy.
“Don’t be silly, Jimmy. You said it yourself in class. Cats can’t talk.”
Roxy’s voice cut through the noise of the laughter, and Jimmy stalked off in anger.
Later, once everyone had dispersed, Roxy asked Hazel what Beezle had actually said to Jimmy.
“Beezle told him he’s a dingbat and a meanie.”
“So he actually talked in a human voice?” Roxy was impressed rather than disbelieving.
“Something like it. He doesn’t like to talk to humans other than me, but he told me he’d make an exception for the school bully, especially one who insulted his intelligence.”
“Cool,” said Roxy, and that was the end of it. They spent the rest of recess talking about their favorite games and toys, and Hazel knew instinctively, in her little seven-year-old heart, that she had met her best friend.
Now, of course, she knew how lucky she’d been that Jimmy hadn’t tattled about her little trick to his parents, because she certainly would have gotten punished for using her magic in such an irresponsible and potentially dangerous way. Mortals weren’t supposed to know about magic due to their inherent suspicion and abuse of it, as Hazel’s mother had told her more than once. It had been a lesson that had taken Hazel many years to learn.
Her parents had never minded, though, that she shared her abilities with Roxy. Somehow, they’d known from the start that Roxy would always be a loyal friend, even if they couldn’t have predicted her addiction to love potions.
She was startled out of the old memory when Elizabeth squeezed her hand.
“Roxy mentioned that the two of you always stood up for one another,” said Elizabeth. “I wish I’d had a friend like that in school. The closest I ever had to that was a girl in high school, Jasmine. She was West Indian, and at my school, she stuck out, too. We were never quite as close as you and Roxy, but I suppose we helped each other survive.”
“Yes, I know I’m lucky in that respect. It’s probably why I’ve let Roxy get away with murder sometimes. She was always the leader in our twosome—always bolder and braver. But she’s a softie underneath all that swagger.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I’m glad you’ve made up, in that case,” she said, suddenly looking thoughtful. “You mentioned your cat, Beezle, in that story at school. But that’s not the same as the current Beezle, is it? Was that Beezle the First and this is the Second?”
Hazel’s eyes got wide. She’d forgotten to edit that part in the retelling. “Oh yes…of course. He’d be a pretty old geezer of a cat otherwise.”
“Very true.”
* * *
The smell of dirt and wood smoke hung heavy in the night air as Hazel gently stirred the antidote simmering in her cauldron. She was working, as she often did, in her own backyard, which was shaded from prying eyes by thick boxwoods on every side. The old Victorian house sat on a large lot, which offered additional privacy.
The clear, somewhat shimmery liquid was nearly ready. It was October 30 and a full moon, and the antidote now needed a night of moonlight exposure to be fully mature. The top of the cauldron was already enchanted so that no leaves or dust specks or pollen or anything else could accidentally fall in overnight. Tomorrow morning, Halloween, the potion would be ready to be administered and—
Hazel hated to think what would happen after Elizabeth drank the antidote. They’d spent nearly every moment together since Elizabeth had drunk the potion two weeks earlier. And Hazel was starting to get used to it.
She hadn’t fully given in to her desires—though she had engaged in a lot of kissing with Elizabeth. She supposed that there was relatively little harm in that.
Hazel heard a rustling in her hydrangeas and was momentarily distracted by the flicker of a black tail. Beezle. So he was still around; he’d been boycotting her ever since she’d kicked him out of the house with Colin.
Just as she was about to pet him hello and scratch him under the chin, they both heard a distant, “Hello?” It was Elizabeth. She’d insisted on coming around that evening ostensibly to pick up her costume but also because the love potion appeared to be working as strong as ever.
This gave Hazel hope that they could still work things out even after she drank the antidote the next day. Elizabeth’s feelings for Hazel, even before she drank the love potion, were already quite warm.
She’d gotten used to their friendly banter, their deep conversation about family and history, their flaming hot kisses that left her wanting more every time…She wanted that life so badly, and yet here she was, brewing the antidote that would end it all.
Was she crazy for giving Elizabeth the antidote? After all, she’d already started to have feelings for Hazel even before drinking it. Maybe the potion simply speeded things up?
On the other hand, she couldn’t just keep lying to Elizabeth. Someday the truth would come out and it would bite her in the ass. Plus, her feelings of guilt were eating her up; she couldn’t admonish Roxy for abusing the potions and then ignore those rules because they were inconvenient for her own personal life. She hoped whatever feelings Elizabeth had had before the potion were strong enough to get them through this.
Lately, she’d been daydreaming about how they could accommodate both of their lives as a couple, should things work out.
In one daydream, Elizabeth decided to move to the States—maybe there was some way she could find a job at a university in New England? After all, they were brimming with universities and colleges in this part of the world, and she’d said herself how stressful her job in England was. Maybe she’d be interested in changing universities.
