5 A Charming Magic (4 page)

Arabella was standing in the middle of the street talking to Gerald Regiula. Talking was an understatement. They were in a deep conversation, Gerald leaning a bit too much into Arabella’s hair if anyone was to ask me. But no one was, so I stepped back, ran my hands down the front of my shirt before I bent down to pat Mr. Prince Charming who had made his way over to my ankles.

Mewl.
Mr. Prince Charming’s back curled up as my hand made my way down to his tail.

“I agree,” I whispered. “There is something fishy about Arabella Paxton.”

Chapter Five

“Here ye, here ye,” Faith Mortimer, the editor-in-chief—actually the only employee of the Whispering Falls Gazette—began the morning headlines.

The Gazette was the only paper in the community and the only way to subscribe was through having it delivered vocally. If you didn’t subscribe, you didn’t hear it. “There is going to be a grand celebration.”

I picked up the charm and smiled knowing exactly what grand celebration Faith was talking about. Everyone knew what had happened with Oscar and his memory. They felt awful for me since I was grieving not only the fact Oscar wasn’t allowed to live in Whispering Falls (since the rule was that you had to be a spiritualist to live here), but the fact that he didn’t recall our relationship.

Lazily I picked up the ladle, slowly stirring the frothy potion and pictured a long veil over my head standing next to a tuxedo-clad Oscar Park. I slipped the tiny ring charm on the tip of my pinkie finger, not caring that I had let go of the ladle and once it was buried in the cauldron it would disintegrate. All I could do was pray Faith was talking about me.

Faith was Clairaudient spiritualist. She had the ability to hear things that were inaudible, beyond the normal realm of the human ears. Faith never knew exactly what was going to happen, she just knew it was going to.

“Keep in mind you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet,” Faith continued with the headlines. Oscar and I had broken a lot of eggs in our past. Especially the time we had to send his uncle to jail after finding out he had not only killed Oscar’s parents, but mine too. Thankfully he was rotting in a spiritualist jail cell, never to be heard of again.

“This announcement was brought to you by Glorybee Pet Shop. Be sure to tell Petunia Shrubwood you heard it in the Whispering Falls Gazette for a five percent discount on your next purchase. Remember, dust off those dancing shoes.”

Sigh…
The small gold circle was cutting off the circulation of the tip of my pinkie, turning it blue and cold. I poked the top of it a couple of times to watch the white dot disappear back to blue.

The shop door flew open, nearly causing me to jump out of my skin. Clearly this was not a good morning to be working on a potion as important as Oscar’s.

“June Heal! June Heal!” Constance Karima rushed into the shop with her twin sister, Patience, closely behind her. I was ever so grateful Patience didn’t escort her ostrich in with her. “You have got to make me a potion. I do not like omelets. I am lactose intolerant.”

“Yep, lactose intolerant,” Patience twitched behind her sister.

Behind her, through the window, I could see she had tied up her ostrich to one of the carriage lights. It pecked at dangling geraniums, eating every single red flower.

Poor thing,
I glanced at the bald annuals that were so pretty just a few minutes ago.

“What are you talking about?” I put the charm next to the register and walked around to greet them.

The green-eyed twins were as tall as they were wide. They owned Two Sisters and a Funeral, the only funeral home in Whispering Hills, and perfect for them since they were Ghost Whisperer spiritualists.

Constance had her nose in every single detail of the paper, every single day. She didn’t like Faith being in charge and she didn’t like the fact that Faith didn’t say who the headlines were for. That wasn’t part of Faith’s spiritual gift.

Patience. Poor Patience. She did very little for herself. She was rarely seen without Constance in front of her and she never spoke her mind. Only repeated the last few words of Constance’s sentences. Sometimes I pictured myself shaking Patience and telling her to get a spine. She was only inflating Constance’s ego by agreeing with everything she said.

“The news! June Heal, the news!” Constance wrung her hands and danced back and forth on her toes. Little did she know the headlines had to be about me. I ran my hands down my slender frame trying to decide on a flowing wedding dress or a more fitted mermaid type of dress. I had always seen myself as more of a traditional bride, but now that the time had come…I might have changed my mind.

“June? June, are you listening to me?” Constance snapped her thick, sausage fingers in my face, forcing me to jump out of my warm blissful daydream.

“Yes.” I shook my head.

“I don’t,” Patience said.

“Don’t what?” I asked.

“You weren’t paying attention. I know.” Patience tapped her temple.

“A….” my mouth dropped. “Patience?”

“Yes,” she grinned. Her eyes squinted behind her wire-framed glasses. Her chubby fingers were nicely clasped in front of her, resting against her housedress.

“Did you forget I’m the Village President?” I asked.

“No, June, we didn’t. That is why we are here. Did you hear the headlines?” Constance butted in, as she always did. “Something has to be done about those loose lips of that young spiritualist. They just blab and blab, making all the town folk worried to death. No wonder people are in here all day long getting sleep aids.” She got closer, giving me the wonky eye. “Is that why you don’t do something as the Village President? Are you using that poor girl, who is not a good spiritualist, for your financial gain?” Her eyes lowered.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” I smiled and tried to put on my best “I’m in charge hat” expression. “Faith is young. Don’t you remember what it was like when you were young?”

“Are you saying I’m old?” Constance stood like a bull about to charge with her hands planted on her hips.

“No.” I had to forcibly keep the smile on my lips. Dealing with these two was always a difficult but much needed task. “I’m just saying you have to give her time to grow into her own gift. We all were novice at one point and time.”

“Do you think you are a pro?” She lifted her brow and stuck her chin up in the air giving me a good once-over.

Ignore her.
There was a time when letting things fly right by you or right off your shoulders was a good time. This was one of those times.

She turned to her sister and said, “These kids today do not watch what they say nor do they care.”

Constance was an old school spiritualist. She didn’t like the young ones—like me and the Mortimer sisters—coming in and creating start-up businesses. Little did she realize that without us, Whispering Falls would die out. Plus we brought the younger customers and visitors to the community.

“You are Village President.” Constance pointed between her and her sister. “That is why we came here. Don’t you get the paper?”

“Yes. I get the paper.” I looked at Constance and then changed my stare to Patience. Earlier when she had tapped her temple, confirming I was not listening to Constance ramble on about Faith’s prediction and completely planning my wedding in my head, I realized she had been reading me. “But you.” I pointed at Patience. “You broke Rule Number One.”

“Don’t be silly, June Heal.” Constance grabbed Patience around the arm and pulled her close to her like I was going to snatch Patience up and put her in spiritualist jail. Too bad I didn’t have the authority to just put people in a cell because I had a few people I would have loved to send there. Arabella Paxton was the first one who came to mind. “We are rule followers.”

“Yes, rule followers,” Patience repeated.

“Be sure you follow the rules,” I warned and took both of them by the elbow. “It’s time to get to work.”

 “Have a wonderful day.” I smiled, pulling the door wide open for them. Wide open.

Gerald and Arabella were still standing in the middle of the street. Our eyes met. Immediately the two of them split up. Each going in the direction of their own shops.

“June Heal, you better get an editor, a real editor, for the Gazette before Faith sends all of us running for the woods!” Constance spoke faster when she saw that I was about to close the door.

Mewl, mewl
. Mr. Prince Charming had left his perch and tangled himself between my legs. I bent down and picked him up. I rubbed his ear. “And you are going to be my man of honor.”

“Puuuhleez.” Madame Torres glowed from my bag that was hanging on the chair behind the counter.

“Ah oh.” I let Mr. Prince Charming jump down from my arms and dart underneath one of the tables. “I forgot to get you out.”

And damn it if she wasn’t going to make me pay. She was the snarkiest crystal ball and I was the one who got stuck with her. I walked back to retrieve her from my bag and brought her to eye level.

“I’m sorry,” I had to beg for forgiveness if I wanted to get my daily dose of hunk, I mean, daily dose of seeing what Oscar was up to. Remembering the geraniums, I grabbed a bottle from the counter. “Dew drop will work with a little dash of vermin.”

I sat the dew drop on the counter and unscrewed the top before I added a couple sprinkles of vermin. With the lid screwed on tight, I shook the new potion up and headed back to the front door. “I’m wondering if I really have to get Oscar’s memory potion made. Especially now with the impending celebration announcement.”

I opened the front door and walked out through the gate to the bald geraniums. A little distance between me and Madame Torres was exactly what I needed before she said something awfully negative about Oscar and how I had been trying to come up with that potion to get his memory back.

I unscrewed the lid and squeezed the dropper ball top, bringing the potion up and filling the glass tube. “Here you go.” Gently I let a couple of drops fall into the hanging basket. Before too long, the geraniums sprang back to life.

“There.” I smiled and screwed the lid on before I headed back inside. “I’ve done my good deed for the day.”

Before heading back into the shop, I stopped for a brief moment and looked over at Magical Moments. The line out the door made my stomach hurt. Secretly I had wished Arabella would not have any business and be forced to close shop. That was a farfetched idea. Who didn’t love flowers?

“Hmmm.” Madame Torres’s displeasure was known when I walked back into the shop. I couldn’t help but look back at her. Her pristine white face took up the entire glass ball. Her red lips looked like they were on fire. The purple eye shadow matched the purple turban and big purple jewel that was front and center on the perch of her head. Her eyes narrowed. “And you believe Faith Mortimer was talking about you and what’s his name?”

“Oscar. Oscar Park. You know his name.” I put the potion back on the shelf and walked back to the counter. “Who else could it be?” I sighed happily knowing I was about to be Mrs. Oscar Park. My cell chirped from the depths of my bag.

Madame Torres loved to rain on my parade. I didn’t bother with her though. I’d put an umbrella up to shield off her big fat drops.

“See.” I turned my phone around to show her Oscar had just texted me and asked me to have dinner with him tonight. “Tonight is going to be the night!”

“One little problem.” Madame Torres had the voice…the negative voice.

“I don’t want to know.” I quickly texted him back about dinner and how I couldn’t wait. “I own you. If I wanted to know your advice, I would ask.”

“You can always show up to dinner a little late,” Madame Torres warned me before she disappeared into the black abyss of the glass ball.

I glared at her. “What are you talking about?” I shook my head, knowing she was gone for a little while.

Ding, ding.
The shop door opened. Our first customer of the day. I reached behind the counter to look at the cauldron to make sure it hadn’t shut off. It was still rolling a slow boil.

“Good morning.” I smiled and watched the woman head over to the table strictly for menopausal problems.  I took a deep breath to clear my mind so I could read her vibe and let my intuition kick in to create exactly what she needed. My mind was all jumbled up with Oscar, the wedding, and grumpy Madame Torres.

“Yes.” The woman appeared to be in her fifties. She had short blond hair, styled so cute with a little gel on top and sides as it was cut right above her ears where there was a fabulous pair of emerald teardrop earrings dangling down. “It is a marvy day.”

Marvy?

“
Just marvy,” she said again, only this time I detected a hint of air in her voice. Kind of like the way wealthy people spoke.

“Let me know if I can help you with anything…” I watched to see what she was picking up because my intuition wasn’t picking up on anything and that was the most important part of my job.

Whenever a customer walked through the door, I tapped into their intuition. This little spiritual gift allowed me to know exactly what potion to make for them. No evil magic here, only good stuff.

For instance, if a client came in for heartburn and they asked for a homeopathic heartburn medicine, I could tap into their soul and find out what was really bugging them. Maybe they were looking for love and that was causing the heartburn. I’d throw in a little love potion to the mix, send them home with a bottle, and it would cure them right up. Next thing I knew, the customer was right back in A Charming Cure with no more heartburn and a sweetie on their arm.
Cured.

This woman was a different story. I grabbed my feather duster and dusted around the tables trying to get closer to her. Maybe the distance was the problem.

Sniff, sniff.
I inched trying to get a whiff of something, anything that would give me a sense of what she was dealing with or what I was up against.

Nothing.

My sniffer and intuition was coming up short. And I didn’t like it.