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02 Pies and Potions - Mystic Cafe Page 3
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Rory placed the fork down next to his plate and wiped his mouth with the napkin. Glares from customers were directed at me, so I knew I had to go. Grandma Imelda had moved over to the first table to collect their order, but there were plenty more waiting. She was supposed to be retired and I didn’t want her working. I should be able to handle this without having a panic attack, for heaven’s sake. Only a few red crumbs remained on the plate. Too bad Rory liked to eat cake for breakfast, although something told me Grandma would have gotten the spell to him one way or the other.
Rory leaned over and kissed me softly on the lips, lingering for just a moment and making my heart go pitty-pat.
“I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight. I have to tell you, Elly, every time I come into this café I feel better and better. Are you using magic on me?” He chuckled.
My stomach turned as I chuckled nervously along with him. “Magic? Of course not. I promised I’d never do magic on you.”
See, I’d already broken that promise. Okay, technically it was Grandma Imelda who had given him the magic, but still. I hadn’t stopped her and I’d baked the cake. I was a rat. A big fat one. My mouth had stopped working. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I should have just explained the spell to Rory right then and there. He’d understand. Maybe. Or maybe not.
“Thank you for the cake. It was delicious. Are you sure you won’t let me pay for it?”
He asked every time. I shook my head. “No way.”
“You can’t do business by giving me free food.”
I waved off his statement.
Rory playfully touched the tip of my nose with his index finger, then turned and moved toward the entrance. When he reached the door, he looked over his shoulder and winked. I watched as he moved down the sidewalk and out of sight. Whew. So far, so good. Keep a positive attitude, I reminded myself. Nothing had happened instantly, so that was always a bonus. Maybe this magic spell would be just fine. I shook off the bad feeling lodged in the pit of my stomach.
Chapter Four
Grandma Imelda had been pretending not to eavesdrop as she placed the menus back in the slot. “Don’t look so worried, dear, he’ll be fine.” Grandma Imelda patted my hand. “This isn’t like the spell before. Nothing can go wrong.”
Had she met me? Of course things could go wrong. They could always go wrong. I could look at things and they’d go wrong.
“But I said I’d never perform magic on him. I just broke that promise.”
“Well, you didn’t, I did.” She brushed hair away from my face. “Now don’t you worry your pretty little head any more. We have customers to take care of.” She motioned for me to get to work. “You go take the rest of the orders while I get started with the food.”
I grabbed my pad of paper and pencil. “Fine, but as soon as Mary Jane gets here, you are not to do any more work. You’re retired, remember? And no arguments, either.”
She brushed me off with a wave of her hand. She had never followed my commands, I didn’t know why I continued to try and give them. After I took the orders, I walked in the kitchen to find Grandma Imelda already working on eggs and bacon.
“Why can’t we add the potions to the orders this morning?” I asked.
“It’s not time just yet, we need to wait a bit,” she said as she grabbed the spatula.
I’d never been the patient type.
I frowned. “What are we waiting for?”
“Orders from the Organization. They tell us when it’s time.” She shrugged. “But I have no idea what is taking them so long. They usually have everything arranged by now. They’ve made some internal changes and haven’t worked out the kinks just yet, I guess.”
As she cracked more eggs and moved them around the grill, I said, “Imelda, I can’t believe you gave Rory the potion. What were you thinking?”
“Well, I can’t believe you called me Imelda.” She didn’t look up from the grill.
I snorted. “Fine. Grandma, I can’t believe you gave him the potion. You know how nervous I am.”
“He needs the spell just like everyone. He’s a part of this town now, isn’t he?” She shoved slices of bread into the toaster.
“Yes, but why does he need the potion? Did you see the smile on his face? Rory seems happy, if you ask me. And I’d like to think I have a little something to do with that.” I winked.
“Oh, I’m sure you had a little something to do with it. That man is positively smitten.”
Heat rose to my cheeks. “He really is a great guy. I can’t believe how easily he accepted the magic.”
She looked at me with a knowing smile. “He’s seen magic before this. Before you, even if he doesn’t realize it. He’s closer to it than he knows.”
“What does that mean?”
“Anyway, I am sorry for making you nervous,” she said changing the subject.
“It just makes me nervous after what happened, you know? I’m afraid Rory is super-sensitive to the magic. Maybe he can’t handle spells like other people?” What had she meant when she said Rory was closer to the magic than he realized? It would be pointless to ask her though. Until she was ready to divulge the details, she would just avoid the question.
“Nonsense. He was given the wrong spell, that’s all. This is a perfect potion and he will be just fine. Stop worrying about it before you give yourself an ulcer.” She wiggled her eyebrows and touched my nose with the tip of her index finger. “Although I must admit, there is something special about Rory. Something tells me maybe he should be practicing magic too. Hmm. Maybe someday he will.”
See. There she went again dropping clues. “Are you going to stop dropping hints and tell me what you mean?”
“I’m not dropping hints,” she said innocently. “Just making conversation.”
Yeah, right.
Rory and magic? That was something I didn’t even want to think about. I already had enough issues to deal with. Rory didn’t seem like the magical type to me. This potion was leaving a bad taste in my mouth and I hadn’t even tasted it.
“Fine. So after we give out the magic spell when will it take effect?” I asked while grabbing plates from the shelf.
“Oh, it starts working right away. The potions work much faster than the spices. Remember that when you’re working with the liquid. Don’t add too much.”
How the heck was I supposed to know how much was too much?
She flipped a pancake, then gestured toward me with the spatula. “Just be careful and you’ll be fine. I know you learned your lesson from what happened before.”
That was what she thought. Learning lessons didn’t come easy for me. I still hadn’t learned my lesson from getting myself into tight spots that I couldn’t handle. Like the time I volunteered to teach a Zumba fitness class to the senior citizens at the community center. That was what I got for listening to Mary Jane. “You’ll be a great instructor,” she had said. My hip was still trying to recover from that injury. Those old ladies had danced circles around me.
I let out a deep breath. “Grandma, even though I’m nervous, I’m going to trust you on this one. If you say the spell will be fine, then it’ll be fine.” I shook my head. “After all, you’ve been doing this a lot longer than me.”
“See, that’s the Elly I know. Full of energy and spunk. Never letting anxiety hold you back. That’s why I knew you’d be perfect at running the café.”
Perfect? That was not the word I’d use. I was far from perfect at running the café. But I hadn’t let the Organization shut me down and it was still operational, so that was a plus. Maybe all that I could ask for.
We hurried and finished the orders. I placed as many plates on a serving tray as I could lift, praying that I wouldn’t drop it on someone’s head.
“Where the heck is Mary Jane?” Grandma Imelda fumed while lifting a tray of her own.
As I hurried through the swinging door from the kitchen into the dining room, my best friend Mary Jane O’Donnell hurried through the front door
. Funny thing, she’d known about the magic long before I had. How she’d kept it from me was beyond me. Heck, how she had kept from telling everyone was beyond me. Mary Jane had a voice loud enough to break the sound barrier. She loved to talk and she was known to let a few things slip once in a while. I’d learned that the hard way.
Her penny-colored hair peeked out from under her black newsboy cap. Mary Jane had a penchant for hats. All kinds of hats: baseball caps, cowboy hats, fedoras, just to name a few. She claimed the hats distracted from her round cheeks. I hadn’t seen her without one since high school. She probably slept in a hat.
She hurried toward me. “Sorry I’m late. I had a late night studying, then I couldn’t get my car to start and my hot water heater isn’t working again. There’s nothing like taking a cold shower to start the day off right.” She looked around. “I can’t believe you’re this busy. What’s going on around here? Is there a coupon you didn’t tell me about? Are you giving away free food?”
Mary Jane had been taking her college courses at night and working at the café during the day. She was the hardest-working person I’d ever known. Well, her and Grandma Imelda.
“So what did I miss?” she asked as she grabbed an apron and draped it over her neck.
“Oh, not much.” I handed her my tray. “The usual stuff.” When we moved away from the first table and I knew no one would hear me, I continued, “I made red velvet cake with the new potion that Grandma Imelda introduced me to, and then she proceeded to give Rory a big slice of it. He ate every bite.”
Chapter Five
Mary Jane held her chest. “Oh my God, don’t tell me he got the wrong spell again. I don’t think I can handle it.”
“You can’t handle it? How do you think I feel?” I patted her shoulder. “But take a deep breath and calm down. He didn’t get the wrong spell, per se… or at least, I don’t think he did. Grandma Imelda says it’s the spell that she gives to everyone in town around this time of year.”
Mary Jane fanned herself with a menu. “Oh whew, the yearly spell. Is that all? He’ll be fine then,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“Well, I’m so glad everyone knows about this stuff but me.” This was definitely going to be a consume-large-amounts-of-chocolate kind of day.
“Don’t be silly,” she scoffed. “Of course everyone doesn’t know. You know that.” She grabbed the coffee pot and headed out onto the dining floor to refill mugs.
I shook my head. Everyone was so calm about the magic and I was freaking out all the time. Maybe I needed to relax. I was being paranoid. A change of topic was in order. With any hope, it would take my mind off my current worries.
When Mary Jane returned, I asked, “So, how are things with Sheriff Jasper?”
An innocent little smile curved my lips and Mary Jane blushed. I loved asking about her new love interest because, without fail, her cheeks turned a lovely shade of bright red. Mentioning his name was like her on and off button. I’d helped her have enough courage to go out with him a few times thanks to a little love spell-laced cherry pie.
“He’s fine. We’re seeing each other tonight.” She avoided my gaze as she grabbed several mugs for coffee.
“And where are you two lovebirds headed?” I asked as I pulled a couple plates of steaming food from the service window.
Grandma Imelda must have been using magic to get those orders done so quickly.
“Nothing fancy. Of course, that goes without saying here in Mystic Hollow. We thought we’d take in a movie and have some dinner at Angelo’s Italian.”
“You’re not still nervous when you go out with him, are you?”
She shrugged. “Well, you know…”
Maybe I needed to try to add a little something to Mary Jane’s food again. Mary Jane was virtually immune to magic, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying again and again. A spell with the spices would be nice, definitely not the potion. Mary Jane was always so nervous when she had a date. Most of the time she ended up breaking dishes and messing up orders the day before the date, and that was completely unlike her. Okay, she had messed up the order with Rory, but it hadn’t happened since, thank goodness.
But that reminded me, I needed to ask Grandma Imelda about the happy potion for Mary Jane. Did she get it too? Grandma Imelda said all my family and friends, but since Mary Jane was unaffected by the spells, did she get it too? How would I know who was supposed to receive it? Would I get the potion too? Had Grandma slipped it into my food already? I didn’t feel any differently. If anything, I felt worse about the whole thing. So many questions and I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand it all. Just when I thought I’d gotten the hang of things, the Organization threw this new potion stuff at me.
Customers continued to stream through the door at a steady pace. Maybe the word had gotten out that Grandma had returned. That would explain the increased business.
After delivering the food, I headed toward the kitchen to inform Grandma Imelda that she needed to let me take over the cooking duties. She was doing way too much for someone who was supposed to be retired.
Grandma Imelda stepped out from the kitchen, looking at me with her big innocent eyes.
“Grandma, you need to let me do all the work. You go relax.” I gestured with my hands.
“Please, I’m retired, not dead. There will be plenty of time to relax after my funeral.”
I shook my head. “You’re stubborn.”
She didn’t respond to my statement. Instead she said, “Speaking of relaxing, you look worried, honey. Now don’t fret none, everything will be fine. You are great with the spices, and I know you’ll do the potion spells just as good as your grandmother.” She winked.
Mary Jane sidled over next to us.
I looked at her and asked, “So, you knew about the potion before now, too?”
She looked down sheepishly and nodded. “I did, but why am I getting dragged into this conversation? You know I couldn’t share any of this magic stuff with you.” She met my gaze. “Not until Imelda told you herself. You know that. I would have told you. I wanted to, trust me, I really wanted to.” She rushed the words.
“Mary Jane, breathe,” I said, as I patted her back as if she were choking. “I know you would.”
“I’m okay,” she said, then let out another deep breath. “I guess the stress from school is getting the better of me.” She grabbed the menu again and started fanning her face.
“You two are worse than a couple of skittish cats. Now let’s get back to the magic,” Grandma Imelda said. “You’re the ones who need to take a vacation. Maybe I shouldn’t leave on this trip. It’s obvious you need me here.”
Oh no. I couldn’t let her do that. Grandma needed her retirement to be enjoyable, not having to worry about her granddaughter. It was time to suck it up and stop worrying about what could happen and just assume that everything would be fine.
Chapter Six
Grandma Imelda had finally relinquished the cooking reins and taken off for a little shopping for her trip. At least there hadn’t been any more talk of not taking the vacation.
After a long day at the café, Mary Jane and I sat at the front booth, ready to indulge in a couple of juicy cheeseburgers. We still had prep work for the next day, but a short break would help us refuel. But before I had finished squeezing ketchup onto my plate, a familiar sensation took hold, surrounding me and twirling through the air like steam swirling from a cauldron. The feeling was the same that hits you when someone is watching you. A lump formed in my throat. The last time this sensation had hit me, something was definitely out of sync in Mystic Hollow. Could I ignore it? Would it go away?
The odd feeling stayed with me in spite of me attempting to will it away. If anything, the more I tried not to think about it, the more the sensation grew. Uneasiness took hold, and it loomed in the distance, waiting for its opportunity to appear at Mystic Café’s doorstep. I felt it in coursing through my veins, and throbbing under my skin. The same dark clouds that I’d
seen before had formed, rolling in quickly from the same southern direction.
Mary Jane looked out the window. “Wow, where did that come from? It was sunny just a second ago.”
I didn’t answer as I waited. She hadn’t noticed that this same thing happened before. I had no idea what I was waiting for, nor was I sure how long I’d have to wait to find out.
The wind picked up, whipping against the window, whistling, hissing, and tossing around random leaves on the sidewalk. The neon sign blinked Open in a steady rhythm with the howling of the wind. Mary Jane didn’t let the odd weather bother her much because she went back to her burger.
I watched out the window, but nothing or no one appeared.
Mary Jane and I had been extra busy all day and we had been looking forward to closing up after we finished our burgers. But our plan had instantly changed before another thought of the juicy burger or creamy cheese could run through my mind. Ignoring the strange feeling, and the turbulent weather, I took a bite out of the burger. Ketchup and mustard oozed out from the bun and onto my face. The café door flew open, bringing in a whoosh of wind and the mysterious Tom Owenton, magic investigator. Uh-oh. What had I done this time?
Tom had a captivating smile on his face that would absolutely draw any woman to him like a magnet. But forget about the smile. Why was he back? I knew my worrying had been justified. His black fedora sat slightly sideways on his head. He wore jeans and a blue short-sleeved t-shirt, his muscular arms bulging underneath the tight fabric. It wasn’t his usual business attire. I wasn't used to seeing him in such a casual style, except for the time when I caught him shirtless wearing only his jeans. When I’d first met Tom he was all business, in dress and attitude. Well, I suppose his attitude had held a little bit of mischief underneath. It still did. An air of self-assurance followed him everywhere.