Magic & Mishaps Page 11

  “Oh no,” Cindy said. “He's not an avoidant, is he? I would steer clear of those at all costs. They will beat your self-esteem into the ground and turn you into a whimpering fool who begs for his attention. It’s awful.”

  “Well, we’re trying to start things off right by going to relationship counseling together,” I admitted. “Hopefully that will give us the tools we need to work through any issues that crop up.”

  Leigh gave me an appraising look. “That’s commitment. You must really want this to work.”

  “We both do,” I said. “I don't take this relationship lightly. It took a lot for both of us to get to this point and we don't want to ruin it.”

  “What took so long?” Rochelle asked. “Was it because he was your boss?”

  “And I was dating someone else,” I said. “Someone I care about who was devoted to me and my daughter.”

  “Aren’t you the luckiest lady in Starry Hollow?” Pam said. “I’m starting to think it was a mistake to include you.” She gave my arm a playful punch.

  “Are you kidding?” Leigh asked. “She's a great addition. We can take her leftovers.”

  “Good point,” Cindy said. “Who was the other guy? I guess he’s still available.”

  Pam’s expression grew serious. “You know the rules, Cindy. We don't do that sort of thing.”

  “What's the harm?” Cindy asked. “It sounds like Ember broke up with him, not the other way around.”

  “It would probably still be hard for her,” Pam said. “It sounds like she still has feelings for the guy. She just had to make a choice.”

  I hated to admit it to myself, but it probably would bother me if someone I knew started dating the sheriff. I could never express that, though, because it wasn’t fair. I chose Alec, which meant I had to let Granger go.

  “Well, he's going to meet someone eventually,” Cindy said. “That's life.”

  I tried to push the thoughts aside. I had enough on my mental plate right now. No need to worry about things that hadn’t yet come to pass.

  “I think I'll have that drink now,” I said. “Just one, though, because I'm driving.”

  “Let's get the Jell-O shots,” Cindy suggested. “If Bonnie’s death taught us anything, it’s that we shouldn’t put off the good things we can have in our life right now.”

  “Yes,” Rochelle agreed and headed for the open doorway. “I think we've waited long enough.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Today we’re going to start work on our very own Book of Shadows,” Lee announced. The dark-haired wizard set a box on my dining table filled with crafts.

  I peered at the Master-of-Ritual Toolcraft. “Is that like a scrapbook for witches?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “If you like. Most witches and wizards make one at the academy but, as you managed to bypass your magical education, I thought it would be nice to make one together.”

  “I didn’t bypass it,” I said. “I’m a late bloomer.”

  “I mean your formal education.”

  “Will Marley make one?” I asked.

  Lee nodded and produced a plain black book from the box. “This year, in fact. That’s why your aunt suggested we create one for you now. It can serve as a bonding device.”

  I choked back a laugh. “My aunt suggested this as a bonding thing?”

  “That’s right. Don’t expect to finish it today, though. Special items like this take time.” He pulled out spools of ribbon, a variety of small metal symbols, and a tube of crazy glue.

  “Wait. We need actual glue?” I asked. “Can’t we make magical adhesive or something?”

  “The glue is the backup plan,” Lee replied.

  “Ah, you know me well.”

  “Try not to take it personally,” Lee said. “It’s best to exercise precautions.”

  “So what do we put in the Book of Shadows?” I asked. I remembered Peter Pan and wondered whether he could have used one of these in which to store his mischievous shadow.

  “Information,” Lee said. “Favorite magical recipes. Important rituals. It’s up to you, really. The book is to be your own sacred tool.”

  “Sacred tool? I really want to make an inappropriate joke right now.”

  Lee pressed his thin lips together. “Perhaps a maturity spell…”

  I touched the plain black book, already imagining how I’d glam it up. “Does every member of the coven have one?”

  “Typically,” Lee said. “It’s a centuries-old rite of passage to make your own.”

  “So my aunt has one?” I’d love to see hers. It sounded like a diary without the embarrassing confessions. On second thought, I’d love to see my aunt’s diary.

  “I suspect she does,” Lee said. “As I’m sure you know by now, the Roses tend to stick with tradition.”

  “Ha! Then you must not know about Zale Murphy.”

  Lee looked amused. “The merman? There’s been chatter.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  He steered my attention back to the book. “You need to decide how you’d like to organize it.”

  “You mean with tabs and stuff?” I was back in high school all over again with my color-coded folders. Karl would stuff all his papers loose in his backpack and then wonder why he couldn’t find what he needed.

  “Yes,” Lee said. “Makes it easy to find the information you want at a glance. You might also consider a dedication.”

  “I’m not publishing it,” I objected. Alec dedicated his books, but he actually had readers. I was the only one planning to read this book.

  “It’s for you,” Lee said. “A dedication makes the book feel more personal.”

  “I’d say my handwriting and all my gibberish inside will make it personal enough.”

  Lee chuckled. “As you wish. Some witches and wizards also include artwork.”

  “So I can rip pages out of my Big Book of Scribbles and adhere them to this one?” I asked. “Because that’s the extent of my artwork.”

  “I’m starting to understand why Hazel complains about her weekly lessons with you,” Lee murmured.

  “What? That crazed clown complains about me?” I was aghast. “She has some nerve. She’s lucky to have me.”

  “I’m not sure she sees it that way, but I digress.” He produced a finished book from the box. “I brought a sample to show you.”

  “Visual aids, perfect.” I flipped through the pages. “This one includes a section of spells. Why not put those in a grimoire?”

  “Some do,” Lee said. “Some like to keep a record of spells they’ve attempted and the results.”

  “Hypothetically, if one were to fail more often than succeed, can you insert extra pages in the book if you run out of room?”

  Lee’s eyebrow quirked. “Asking for a friend?”

  “I admit it would be helpful to keep track,” I said. “If I look back at the record, I might be able to see where I went wrong or at least give me an idea of what to do differently next time.”

  “That sounds very wise, Ember.”

  “Maybe I’ll suggest a spell section to Marley for when she starts her book,” I said. Knowing Marley, though, she’d think of every possible use for the Book of Shadows and design it accordingly.

  “Once the book is complete, we’ll need to consecrate it,” Lee said.

  “Why?” I asked. “It’ll be brand new.”

  “It’s an object of power,” Lee said. “I recommend consecration for all such things.”

  “I feel like you’re a car salesman trying to convince me to get the wax upgrade I don’t really need.”

  Lee looked at me askance. “I don’t recommend waxing your book.”

  “Where do coven members keep their books once they’re finished?” I asked.

  “Wherever they deem fitting,” Lee replied. “A desk drawer. A safe deposit box. A closet under a stack of naughty magazines. Under the bed.”

  My mental gears began clicking. “What happens to these books after
the owner dies?”

  Lee frowned. “Rather morbid of you, considering you haven’t even finished yours yet.”

  I opted not to get into Bonnie Rydell’s murder and how often I’m reminded of my own mortality, especially in this town.

  “I’m thinking about my parents,” I said. “They would have both had one, right?” The idea of holding a personal scrapbook made by my mother’s own hand was a thrilling prospect.

  “I imagine so,” Lee said. “I would ask your aunt.”

  Maybe after she recovered from our Sunday dinner. According to Florian, Aunt Hyacinth was still reeling from Zale’s oversharing. He’d told her the story, but for whatever reason, she hadn’t expected him to blab it to everyone else. My aunt had to learn that not everyone operated like she did. Some paranormals were open and honest and had no hidden agenda. I appreciated that about Zale.

  “It’s important to remember that you should only add to the book in your own hand,” Lee continued.

  “You mean no one else can write in it?” If I wrote by hand, no one else would be able to read it either. My handwriting was atrocious. Hazel could tell him all about it.

  “Correct,” he said. “I would also recommend not printing out information from the computer and pasting it in the book. You lose valuable energy that way.”

  “Energy,” I sniffed. “Now you sound like Marigold.” Another gear clicked. “That reminds me—would you know how to cleanse an object of it?”

  Lee produced more decorations from his box and set them on the table. “Cleanse?”

  “Yes. Marley was given an old wand for her birthday and there’s still a lot of juju clinging to it for dear life. I’d like to wipe it clean so she can start fresh. Imprint the wand with her own juju.”

  “Juju isn’t so much energy as a spiritual belief…”

  I held up a hand. “No digressing. We don’t have another hour.”

  Lee cleared his throat. “Well, there are different cleansing rituals you can try to get rid of the…juju, as you so eloquently put it,” he said. “It depends on the type of energy and the reason it’s remained attached to the object.”

  “Can we go through the ritual you’d recommend?” I asked.

  Lee surveyed the paraphernalia on the table. “What about the Book of Shadows?”

  “You said we’d start today and we did,” I said. “The cleansing is more important. I’m worried that Marley is headed for a crisis.”

  “Do you have the wand at home?” Lee asked. “Won’t Marley have it with her?”

  “Not at her music lesson,” I said. I’d swiped the wand from her backpack between school and the music center so that I could study the runes. Hazel would be so proud of me—not that I managed to interpret them. ‘A’ for effort, though.

  I went into the kitchen and retrieved the wand from the junk drawer where I’d hidden it. Lee followed me into the kitchen.

  “We might as well conduct the cleansing in here,” he said. “I imagine most of what we need is within reach.”

  “Really?” I glanced around the kitchen. “The microwave is currently out of commission and the toaster is full of crumbs.” Thanks to all the buttered toast we’d been delivering to Raoul.

  Lee sighed. “We don’t need your appliances, Ember. A bowl of water. A candle. A few herbs.”

  “Well, Marley’s herb organizer is here, so take whatever you need.” I motioned to the far wall where the organizer rested on a windowsill.

  Lee walked over to investigate. “She’s started a nice collection. Very impressive choices.”

  “She takes it seriously.”

  “Will she notice if anything’s missing?” Lee asked.

  “Not at the moment,” I said. “She’s avoiding the herbs. I think she’s suffering a crisis of confidence or something.” I brought over a small bowl and handed it to him.

  Lee selected a few herbs and placed them in the bowl. “Would you like to assist me? A cleansing ritual is good experience for you.”

  “Honestly? I’d rather keep a safe distance. If I get my hands in there, it’s sure to go wrong.”

  Lee regarded me. “Are you sure it’s Marley who’s suffering a crisis of confidence?”

  “Yes, this is my normal state.”

  “I’m going to burn the herbs and then smudge the wand with the residue,” Lee said.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Sounds gross.”

  “You won’t be eating it.”

  “Make sure to dispose of it properly because I know a certain raccoon that would.” I went to the cupboard for a glass and filled it with water. “Which reminds me. It’s hydration time for my furry patient. I’ll be right back.”

  I carried the glass to Marley’s bedroom and opened the door. Raoul was partially out the window, his bottom half dangling inside. He reminded me of Winnie the Pooh when he gets stuck at Rabbit’s house.

  “Raoul, where are you going?” The raccoon looked surprisingly spry for a creature on death’s door for days.

  The raccoon twisted to observe me. Oh, hey there. I thought you’d left to get Marley from the music center.

  “Not yet,” I said. “I’m in the middle of a lesson with Lee.” I crossed my arms and peered at him. “Looks like you’re feeling better.”

  He dropped to the floor and stretched his arms over his head. Like a brand new raccoon. Whatever magic you two were doing must’ve finally worked.

  Like me, my familiar was a terrible liar. “Raoul, tell me the truth.”

  He hesitated. Fine, if you insist. Your hair doesn’t look good when it’s parted on the right, only when it’s a slight part on the left.

  My hands flew to my hips. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. You’re not ill. How long have you been faking it?”

  His head dipped. Faking what?

  I tapped my foot impatiently.

  His body sagged. I was only sick that first night, he admitted. It was probably the moldy strawberries I found in the compost heap at the dump.

  My mouth opened and closed. “Marley’s mixture didn’t make you ill?”

  Don’t think so, he mumbled.

  I clenched my hands into fists and tried to restrain myself from throttling him. “How could you let her believe she almost killed you? You know how upset she’s been.”

  Raoul slumped to the floor. I know and, if it’s any consolation, I felt awful about lying.

  “Then why did you?”

  He fixed his dark beady eyes on me. Because it was nice to get positive attention for a change.

  “What are you talking about? We give you positive attention.”

  You and Marley have taken such good care of me. Do you know how nice it feels to be fed in bed? Nobody’s ever taken care of me like that before. I didn’t want it to stop and I knew as soon as you realized I was better, I’d be back in the wilderness.

  I softened. As awful as it was, I understood. It was one of the reasons I’d let things progress with Granger longer than I should have. It felt nice to have someone care about me the way he did. To dote on me and know that he thought about me when I wasn’t with him. I had a need and Granger was willing to meet it.

  I thought you’d figure it out because of the whole familiar bond thing, Raoul said. I didn’t expect to get away with it this long.

  “I’ve been distracted.” I moved closer to the pathetic raccoon and sat beside him on the floor. “Raoul, I get why you did it.”

  His eyes grew more sorrowful, if that was possible. You do?

  “I do, but in making yourself feel good, you made Marley feel terrible. She lost her confidence. Thinks she’s the worst witch in existence. And she hates her new school, Raoul. Hates it.”

  Raoul sniffed. I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I just wanted to be able to stay in the cottage and get food delivered without even asking. It was heavenly.

  I scratched the top of his head. “When Marley gets home from her music lesson, you have to tell her the truth.”

  He nodded. I guess I won�
��t be allowed meals in bed anymore.

  “No, the doting will have to stop,” I said. “I promise you this much, though. Marley and I will make an effort to give you more positive attention.”

  You will? Even after what I did?

  “You want to feel loved,” I said. “We all want that. We just have to go about getting it without throwing someone else under the bus in the process.” I’d learned that lesson the hard way, at Granger’s expense.

  You forgive me? he asked.

  “There’s nothing for me to forgive. It’s Marley you need to make amends with. She’s the one who bore the brunt of your deception.”

  The raccoon scrambled to his feet. I’ll bring her back a special gift from the dump. I should be able to make it back before bedtime.

  “Um, I don’t know that a special gift is necessary,” I said, remembering the refrigerator that he acquired for Marley’s birthday. “I think an apology will suffice.”

  I’m sorry, Raoul said.

  I stroked the gray and black patches of fur on his back. “It’s okay, Raoul. I know you are.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Marley was quiet on the drive back from the music center and I didn’t push her. I figured the moment Raoul revealed his little secret, we’d be back on track. I wouldn’t tell her about the cleansing of the wand, though. That would stay my little secret.

  “We’re home,” I called into the cottage. PP3 greeted us at the door, jumping with the enthusiasm of a puppy. In moments like this, it was easy to forget how old he really was.

  Raoul waved from the sofa.

  “Raoul, you’re not in bed,” Marley said.

  “That’s because Raoul has something to tell you,” I said. Via me, of course.

  Marley moved closer to study the raccoon. “You look much better. I guess Calla’s potion finally worked.”

  “He feels much better,” I said. “But it had nothing to do with Calla’s potion.” I motioned to Raoul to confess.

  “Come on, Mom. It doesn’t cost you anything to give her credit.”

  “It’s nothing against the crone,” I said. “Calla’s great.”

  I was never ill, my familiar admitted. I made it up.