Bewitching Bitters Read online

  “No tattoo today.”

  “I’ll be there in ten,” Libbie said.

  “Before you go, do you happen to have any goldenrod in your garden?” It was the only ingredient Kate didn’t have in stock.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Why? Are you testing a recipe for Lucas? Your anniversary’s coming up, isn’t it?”

  “It is.” She didn’t mention she’d already made dinner reservations at Club Cloverleaf. The chef there made an incredible creme brûlée, her husband’s favorite dessert.

  “Goldenrod’s a nice touch,” Libbie said. “You’re both right there in the name.”

  Kate was still smiling when she put down the phone. Libbie had been in such good spirits ever since she’d quit her job and ditched Chris, her loser boyfriend. Now she was running her own catering business that had become the talk of the town and dating Ethan, the silver fox. Kate was so proud of her friend. It had taken a lot of courage for Libbie to push through her fears and make serious changes to her life. It was the kind of experience Kate wanted for her clients, but it was hard to advise your best friend. Libbie was like family and Kate made a habit of only trying to motivate strangers. It was better for the relationship that way.

  Kate tucked the book under her arm and went downstairs to wait on the patio for her friend, grabbing a cardigan from the back of the chair on her way outside. The outdoor space was Kate’s favorite spot. In fact, it was the view that sold this house. Once Kate had stood out here and admired the lake as the sun was setting, brilliant colors streaking through the trees in the distance, she was a goner. Lucas had taken one look at her rapt expression and made an offer to the realtor right then and there. He knew her so well, or at least he had then. Sometimes she looked at him now and saw only a roommate or a colleague.

  Libbie arrived on the patio looking like a woman who’d been attacked by a clown en route. She had patches of flour on her face and clothes, and her dark hair was falling out of its messy bun.

  Kate suppressed a laugh. “You really were in the middle of making pastry, weren’t you?”

  Libbie flopped into the chair next to her. “Did you think it was a euphemism? Trust me, if I’d been having carnal relations with Ethan, I wouldn’t have answered the phone, not even for you.”

  “How’s that going?”

  Libbie sighed happily. “I’ve finally reached my sexual peak.”

  “Better late than never,” Kate said.

  “I didn’t even know there was a peak until now. I thought it was all valleys. A desert, really. More like a sexual Sahara.”

  Kate offered a rueful smile. “Marriage doesn’t necessarily change that perspective.”

  Libbie regarded her with concern. “Everything okay with you and Lucas?”

  “Of course,” Kate lied. “I was just speaking in general terms. By the way, there’s another Dread Pirate witch in town, baby.” She handed over the book and watched eagerly as Libbie opened to the first page.

  Libbie sucked in a surprised breath. “Kate, this is so awesome. Have you made the cocktail yet?”

  Kate shook her head. “I need the missing ingredient.”

  Libbie’s eyes widened as she remembered the goldenrod. “I have it right here.” She dug through her handbag and tossed a sealed plastic bag across the table. “Straight from the garden. Do you want me to supervise?”

  “It’s a cocktail. How hard can it be?”

  Libbie examined the recipe. “You need to infuse the tequila. The recipe says it needs to chill for a few hours.”

  “I’m sure I can do it faster than that.”

  Libbie snorted. “It’s not a competition, Kate. That’s how long it takes no matter who’s making it.”

  “O ye of little faith.” She slid back her chair. “Care to watch me work my magic?”

  “I would be honored. Should we call Julie and Rebecca?”

  “I considered it, but I don’t want to rub it in.”

  “Understood, although they’ll find out soon enough anyway. Friday will be here before we know it.”

  Kate reentered the house with Libbie right behind her, carrying the book and her bag. “Maybe I won’t mention it at all until I know something’s happened.”

  Libbie grunted. “You sound skeptical. Do you think I imagined what happened to me? For Pete’s sake, you saw what happened when Chris tried to burn the book.”

  Kate nodded, remembering. The book had risen and reformed like a phoenix from the ashes. The moment still seemed surreal when she thought about it.

  Kate experimented with holding the book in a variety of positions in an effort to read the small print.

  “Any closer and you’ll be wearing it as a mask,” Libbie remarked.

  She lowered the book. “The print is so tiny; I can hardly see it.”

  “Looks normal to me. You might want to make an appointment with the eye doctor.”

  “I’ve always had 20/20 vision. I don’t see why that should change.”

  Libbie suppressed a snort laugh. “I’m sure you don’t.”

  Kate opened and closed cabinet doors as she collected the ingredients. Tequila was easy, as were bitters.

  Libbie observed the assembly of ingredients. “Bitters, huh? Interesting choice.”

  “Hey, I’m not the mixologist. Any idea what this cocktail is meant to do?” Kate asked.

  “It will be different for each of us, I think,” Libbie said. “Lorraine said the magic is specific to the person, remember?”

  Kate vaguely recalled the psychic witch telling them that. “Yours seemed to trigger newfound confidence, which I thoroughly approve of, by the way.”

  “Not just confidence,” Libbie said. “Overcoming fear. I was stuck because I was too afraid to voice my needs.”

  “I think we can both agree that’s not my issue.” Kate opened the bottle of tequila.

  “You’re using fresh lime juice, right?” Libbie asked.

  Kate cast her a glib look. “Do I look like an amateur to you?” She plucked a lime from the fruit bowl and sliced a wedge. “Will there be a puff of purple smoke or something? How will I know it worked?”

  Libbie rested her elbows on the island and smiled. “No special effects, I’m afraid.”

  “Why not? We had a glimpse of it when we opened Inga’s jar.” Kate remembered how her entire body had tingled.

  “Breath is the spirit,” Libbie said, echoing Inga’s final words.

  The idea that Inga had somehow stored her spirit in the jar and divided it among them sounded crazy when Kate allowed herself to really think about it. Then again, she couldn’t argue with the gust of air that had blown through the room or the strange sensation they’d each experienced.

  “There seems to be an element of trust involved,” Libbie said.

  Kate looked thoughtful. “I guess that’s true. You went along with it from the beginning. Made a cocktail each time it appeared and let someone drink it.”

  After Libbie’s first cocktail, recipes had started appearing in her book for other people. One of their longtime friends had ended up catching an early cancer diagnosis because the cocktail seemed to give her the courage to stop stalling and get a mammogram.

  Libbie laughed lightly. “It sounds kind of reckless when you say it like that.”

  “We both know you’re far from reckless.” Kate added the goldenrod. “So I chill this for a few hours and then down the hatch?”

  “Pretty much.” Libbie clasped her hands together. “I’m excited to see what’s next for you, although I can’t imagine it will be as dramatic as mine. Your life is pretty perfect already. Maybe you’ll start shooting rainbow lasers.”

  Kate said nothing in response. She remained fixated on the mixture in front of her.

  “I wonder why the magic thinks I’m ready now,” Kate mused. “It’s not like anything’s changed.”

  Libbie shrugged. “Maybe it has. Change doesn’t need to be earth-shattering. You’re not about to quit your job. You love what you do.”r />
  “That’s true.” Kate wouldn’t trade her job for anything. It fulfilled her criteria for success and allowed her to help people. She worked from home and was able to spend more time with her children. Everything about it was a plus.

  “I need to get back to my pastry,” Libbie said. “Text me tomorrow and let me know how it goes.”

  “I will.”

  After Libbie left, Kate sealed the container with the infusion and placed it in the fridge. She continued to stand in front of the refrigerator for a few minutes afterward, wondering what the arrival of magic would mean for her.

  It was evening when Kate was finally able to sample her cocktail. Homework was done. Dinner was over and the kitchen now clean. She’d been looking forward to this moment all day.

  “What’s that?” Lucas asked, eyeing the cocktail in her hand. “Looks tasty.”

  Kate decided to keep its origin to herself. “Libbie gave me the recipe.”

  His brow lifted. “It’s not one of her special cocktails, is it?”

  “She’s testing it for Friday night. Now that Inga’s no longer at the helm, we’re taking turns choosing a cocktail to spotlight.” Kate didn’t know why she felt compelled to lie. She didn’t keep secrets from her husband.

  Ava glanced up from her drawing of a princess and a dragon. “Can I have a cocktail?”

  “Of course, my love. How about one with crushed strawberries?” Kate asked.

  Ava frowned. “That’s just a smoothie.”

  Her six-year-old was too clever for Kate. “I can add a special ingredient.”

  “I want what you’re having,” Ava said.

  Gavin stifled a laugh. “Go on, Mom. That will go over really well on your YouTube channel.”

  Kate ignored him. “Alcohol is for adults, sweetie, but I’m happy to add a mystery ingredient to yours to make it extra special.”

  That seemed to placate her youngest child. Ava nodded and returned her attention to the drawing.

  “You’ve made the princess too big,” Gavin said. “She’s practically as big as the dragon.”

  “Maybe it’s a baby dragon,” Brett said.

  Kate crossed the room to inspect the artwork. “Gavin's right. She’s not in proportion.”

  Lucas gave her a pointed look. “Kate.”

  She knew what that tone meant. She was being overly critical. Before she could backpedal, Ava’s eyes filled with tears.

  Shit.

  “You know what?” Kate said, pretending to scrutinize the drawing. “I was looking at it upside down. Now that I see it from this angle, I think it’s perfect the way it is.”

  Ava wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “No, it’s all wrong.” She picked up a black crayon and scribbled all over the page.

  No one said a word. They looked at Kate, waiting for her to take the lead. There was nothing she could do to salvage it now; the damage was done.

  “I think I’ll sit on the patio with my drink.” She left the kitchen before anyone could stop her. A lump formed in her throat as she settled into the Adirondack chair and brought the cocktail to her lips. She tried to remember what it was like to be six years old. Kate hadn’t been as precise then. Her memories involved lopsided cupcakes and scraped knees. Young Kate had been far from perfect. But then her parents divorced and Kate realized that imperfection was no longer an option.

  The liquid coated her throat and she focused on her taste buds in an effort to pick out the different ingredients. In the fading light, she surveyed the changing leaves. This year was disappointing; the colors weren’t as vivid as she preferred. She liked a little more red, although the display of orange and gold was pretty. It occurred to Kate that she was arguably in the autumn of her life. Soon she’d arrive at winter and that would be it. Life cycle over. No regrowth or rebirth.

  It was a sobering thought.

  A shiver traveled down her body as she drank. The cocktail was good but stopped short of amazing. She silently scolded herself for not mixing it long enough. Maybe another few shakes would’ve made the difference. She could try again tomorrow if there was enough time.

  There never seemed to be enough time. Between the kids’ school and activities, meals, her work, Lucas’s schedule, and volunteer work, it seemed that Kate was running on a treadmill even when she wasn’t. Ava was only six. Kate still had years of parenting ahead of her and then what? She was already forty-eight. She’d be old and haggard by the time she could slow down and enjoy life, not that she didn’t enjoy it now. She knew she was fortunate to have her dream job, a healthy family, and plenty of money. Sure, her marriage could stand improvement, but couldn’t everyone’s? She knew her relationship with Lucas seemed perfect to outsiders and that was the way she liked it. No one needed to see the cracks in their foundation. As long as she kept up her Instagram and Facebook posts about her blessed union, no one would be the wiser. And she always made a point to mention Lucas in her videos so that her audience didn’t suspect any flaws. How could she encourage them to be the best versions of themselves if they thought she wasn’t doing the same? Kate had built a small empire based on that simple premise and she had no desire to watch it crumble. She loved the overwhelmingly positive feedback. They seemed to view her as a friend and confidante. Someone to aspire to be. She couldn’t afford to be less.

  Kate finished the last mouthful of the cocktail and cupped the glass in her hands like a bouquet of flowers. It smelled vaguely of garlic, although there was no garlic in the recipe. She smiled, thinking of Inga’s soft spot for garlic bagel chips. The older woman had often served them at their weekly cocktail club meetings, regardless of what they were drinking. Expensive champagne. How about a handful of garlic bagel chips?

  An invisible weight rested on her chest as she realized how much she missed Inga. The older woman seemed to see straight through Kate, although she’d never said a word to suggest it. It was the way Inga had looked at her, with clear blue eyes that appeared to cut through all Kate’s protective layers and glimpse her very soul. With anyone else, that would’ve made Kate uncomfortable—even Libbie didn’t see Kate that clearly—but there was something about Inga’s penetrating gaze that she’d found comforting.

  She heard the door open behind her and Lucas called out, “Are you coming in soon? Ava needs her bath.”

  Kate closed her eyes and willed herself to stay quiet. She could handle a bath. Never mind that Lucas was available.

  She kept her focus on the view. “Would you mind running the water and I’ll be there in a minute?”

  “Sure. Everything okay?”

  “Just finishing my drink.” She heard the door close and her body relaxed in response. She didn’t know why his presence made her so tense. Kate still remembered a time when the sight of him excited her. Before he and Kate had started dating, Lucas Golden had been known as the catch of the century. Naturally that moniker had piqued Kate’s interest. His looks helped, of course. His dark blond hair curled up at the edges. His eyes a pale green, like a blade of grass bleached by too much sunlight. She especially loved when he was fresh out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his toned stomach—at least she used to. Now the sight would only annoy her because Lucas seemed to find time to do whatever he wanted at whatever pace he wanted, whereas Kate was juggling balls and jumping through hoops all with a gracious smile. She’d tried talking to him about the disparity multiple times over the years. Communication was one of her key skills, or so she told herself. Usually the conversation resulted in a week where he’d remember to take out the trash, or he’d order dinner before she started making it. Another week would go by and they’d revert to their usual habits. Kate knew from experience that forming new habits was the way to make changes stick. She told clients that all the time; she just didn’t know how to instill them in Lucas without prompting an argument.

  An upstairs window slid open. “Kate, the water’s ready.”

  She tipped back her head to see Lucas’s head poking out of the bathroom window u
pstairs. “Coming.”

  Another ball to juggle before bedtime. Kate pulled herself to her feet with the empty glass still in her hands. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” she murmured, and dragged herself inside.

  Chapter Five

  Kate knew something was wrong the moment she opened her eyes. Cat-Cat rested on her chest, breathing tuna breath into Kate’s face.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

  “Meow,” Cat-Cat said.

  It was a standoff. Kate wasn’t sure whether to brush the cat aside or wait for her to move of her own accord. She didn’t want to get bitten or scratched.

  As the cat moved forward, Kate closed her eyes and cringed. She felt its sandpaper tongue swipe across her chin and bolted upright.

  “No thank you!”

  The cat jumped off the bed and Kate peeled back the covers to escape. She ran to the bathroom to wash the area where the cat had licked. She wet a washcloth and looked in the mirror to make sure she wiped the right spot. It was then that she saw it.

  A wart.

  On her chin.

  Not only that, there was a coarse hair growing from its middle.

  Kate opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Slowly, she brought her index finger to touch the wart and confirm its existence.

  “I don’t believe this,” she whispered.

  “Meow.” Cat-Cat jumped on the counter beside the sink to offer cries of consolation.

  Kate stared at the cat. “Did you do this?”

  She ran to the bedside table and swiped her phone to text Rebecca. As a volunteer at the local animal shelter, Rebecca would know whether a cat could transmit some kind of disfiguring disease to humans.

  The response was immediate. Not possible, followed by a string of laughing emojis.

  Kate returned to the bathroom to study her chin. It was the spot where she thought a hormonal zit was emerging. How could it have morphed into a wart? It was the same place she’d worn the wart for the witch costume.

  The witch.

  A heavy breath escaped her. Thanks to Inga, Kate was a witch, but Lorraine had said that warts were only a stereotype. Her mind drifted back to the magical cocktail. Could that somehow have triggered this hideous defect?