Authors: Rose Pressey
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Grandma.” I smiled, attempting to hide my anxiety.
She grabbed the green-colored potion. “Nonsense. I’ve been doing it for years. Why do you think you wanted to be a ballerina all of a sudden when you were sixteen?”
“What? You mean you were responsible for that debacle? I almost broke a leg going to those classes. I caused the teacher to take an early retirement.”
“You had fun.” She pulled the top off the bottle. It made a loud pop from the force of the suction.
I shook my head. “Um, not so much.”
“Well, anyway, this spell is what makes Mystic Hollow one of the happiest towns in the world. We don’t need fancy things to make us happy. I mean, sure those things are nice, but this spell makes everyone strive for more from within. It makes them want to succeed at whatever they set their mind to. That’s why you tried the ballerina thing.”
“There’s just one flaw in that though… I didn’t succeed.”
“Well, it’s not because you couldn’t have, you just decided to do something else, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry, Grandma, but there is no way I believe that I could have made it as a ballerina. I have two left feet and short legs. I’m ballet’s worst nightmare and it’s a good thing I quit.”
“It’s not about if you succeeded at that one particular thing, it’s that you kept on trying. Look at you now, you’ve made a success of the café.” She waved her hand around as a huge grin split her face.
“Were you responsible for that time I wanted to be a circus clown?”
The whirl from the mixer cut off my words.
When the noise stopped, Grandma Imelda shoved the bottle of potion into my hand. “Pour some into the batter.” She gestured toward the large white bowl.
I had to admit those little bottles of potions had me intrigued. The colors were so vivid. After letting out a pent-up breath, I positioned the bottle over the bowl and with a shaky hand, tilted it downward. The liquid bubbled slightly, rising to the top where I thought it might seep over the edges of the bottle.
Grandma pushed the book toward me, nudging me with a poke of her finger to begin the spell. My nerves tingled. I took in another deep breath and let it out. I’d done this before. Many times now. How hard could doing the liquid spells be? I mean, sure Grandma claimed that they were more potent, but I could handle it, right? I thought I let out an audible gulp at the thought. The bottle slipped and I tightened my grip as my palms became sweatier. Letting the bottle slip out of my hands was the last thing I needed.
“This will make your red velvet cake even more special.” She grabbed the cake pans and placed them on the stainless steel countertop. “Look at that creamy batter.” Her eyes widened as she stared down at the bowl. “Why, it looks good enough to eat.” She chuckled.
She always had loved my red velvet cake. I made a spectacular cream cheese icing. But nothing topped Grandma’s cooking. Her apron strings were hard to fill.
Grandma tapped the page for emphasis. “The spell really is so simple. Don’t frown like that, dear, it’ll cause wrinkles.” She gestured toward my forehead.
“Wrinkles are the last thing I’m worried about right now. I don’t want to ruin everyone’s lives.”
“Nonsense. Now run over there and grab the spices listed in the spell.”
I needed to focus on the spells and my baking. I glanced down at the book to find out which spices I needed. Making a mental list, I forced my legs to move forward. But I didn’t run. It was more of a shuffle. Maybe an amble followed by a nervous twitch.
After collecting the needed spices, I lined the bottles up on the counter next to the potion and began the spell. The book said to add the spices after the first dose of potion, then add more potion at the end. Pulling the lid off the first spice, I paused, then finally I sprinkled it into the batter. Tiny sparks began to form, spreading a muted glow around the room. I mixed the batter, then added the second spice. A fizzing sound bubbled up from the bowl.
The words listed for the spell were simple enough. I spoke them aloud as I continued to stir. “All should be happy. All should be well. Chase your dreams and thank the spell.”
With the last spice added, sparks popped and shot up from the bowl, some blasting straight up and others out to the side in a spectacular mini light show. If the spices did all that, what would the potions do when added together? I was about to find out. With my hand still unsteady, I poured in half of the bottle just as the spell had instructed. Once I mixed in the last potion, more sparks shot up, followed by bubbles that floated up as if helium balloons headed heavenward.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
Grandma Imelda smiled, looking pleased with my spell casting.
“You did a great job.” Grandma Imelda patted me on the back. “I knew you’d be a natural at this. As long as you have faith in yourself, you can do anything.”
“Thank you,” I said.
With my pulse still working overtime, I poured the batter into the pans and slid them in the oven. Now I needed to find out more about this special spell. What did it mean exactly?
Grandma Imelda began helping me clean out the counter. As I watched her, I couldn’t help but wonder why she’d felt the need to come back to show me something that she claimed was so simple. No, the real reason that she’d come back was to make sure I didn’t make any more mistakes. She’d never admit it though. It wasn’t my fault she’d left someone with no experience in charge.
“Grandma Imelda, I’m so happy that you came back for a visit, but you didn’t come back to show me this potion business, did you?” I asked.
She scraped the wooden spoon against the bowl, collecting the remaining batter, then turned to me. “You know, I’m so happy you’re dating Rory Covington. He’s a fine young man.” She licked the batter from the spoon, then placed it in the sink.
Grandma Imelda always had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, as if she had been up to something. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d pushed Rory and I together with her magic. Not that you’d hear a complaint from me. I was gushy happy with our young relationship.
“I’m glad I met him, too, Grandma.” I couldn’t hide my smile when thinking of Rory.
“Now back to the magic.” She squeezed my shoulders in a big hug.
That was when I remembered the cherry pie that I’d put in the oven a long time ago. I grabbed the oven mitts and rushed over. When I opened the oven door, a cloud of smoke almost knocked me down.
Grandma Imelda coughed from over my shoulder. “You left that one in a little too long, dear.”
Chapter Two
After preparing another cherry pie, I cleaned up the mess, then replaced the spices and potions back on the shelf. I wandered around the café still trying to understand the new spell I’d been introduced to. It was hard to focus on something that I still didn’t completely understand. The tables and chairs were all perfectly aligned just waiting for the customers. The hardwood floors gleamed and coffee percolated. Mystic Café was ready for business, but was I?
I had a feeling that potions wouldn’t be my magical forte, considering I’d never as much as seen a potion before. Magic of any sort hadn’t come easy for me. It had taken a bit of time for me to be convinced. I knew Grandma wouldn’t lie to me, but still… magic was pretty far-fetched. However, when my boyfriend had accidentally received a love spell and every woman in town had wanted him, I’d changed my mind pretty darn quick. The Organization had sent the aforementioned good-looking investigator to shut down the café. Luckily, I’d figured out how to reverse the spell just in time. I’d had to fight off Rory’s ex-girlfriend in the process.
After frosting the cake, I placed it on the stand and carried it to the dining area of the café, placing it in the glass display case behind the counter. I loved showcasing all the cakes, pies and pastries. I was like a proud mama showing off her babies.
Grandma Imelda stood beside me. “It looks perfect and I know it’ll taste even better than it looks. Now make sure to use the potion in all your food until everyone gets it.”
“When do I start handing out the spell to everyone?” I asked. My anxiety spiked every time I thought of it.
“Well, you can give the cake to some people, but you need to wait until I give you the official word to start with everyone. The whole town starts this spell at the same time.”
“What do you mean some people?”
“Family or friends,” she said.
Before I had time to ask another stupid question, the bell above the front door jingled and I glanced over my shoulder. Rory Covington made his way across the dining room floor and straight toward the counter. The closer he got, the wider his smile grew. His blond hair had been streaked from working out in the summer sun. His skin was a golden hue that made his teeth even whiter… if that was even possible. His blue eyes sparkled as the sunlight from the front window splashed across his face. He wore his usual jeans and T-shirt.
“Hi, gorgeous.” He leaned over the counter and planted a kiss on my eager lips. I have to say that even my toes tingled.
“Enough of that mushy stuff,” Grandma Imelda said from over my shoulder. “How about some cake, young man? My granddaughter just made the best red velvet cake that will ever touch your lips.” She wiggled her finger in his direction. “Why, the creamy dressing will make you melt on the spot.”
My cheeks blushed. “Oh, Grandma, you compliment me too much.” I looked to Rory. “Don’t listen to her, Rory.”
“I’m only speaking the truth, my dear.”
“Well, I believe it. Anything Elly cooks is absolutely amazing,” he said.
“I knew I liked this guy.” Grandma Imelda looked at me and pointed at Rory. “He knows what he’s talking about.”
“I can’t resist Elly’s cooking.”
He could say that again. When I’d given him the burger with the wrong spell, I was surprised he had ever eaten anything I made again. After the incident happened, and Rory and I began to date, I’d promised him that I’d never give him any of my magic. He hadn’t asked for that promise, but it was something I felt I needed to do.
Rory had been so understanding when I had told him about my special skills. There had also been the little thing with the investigator, Tom Owenton. There was a bit of an energy that zinged between us, at least that’s what my best friend said, and Rory had been more than a little aware of it. In the end, I’d moved forward with Rory. Tom had his life with the Organization and I would never fit in with that lifestyle. No, Rory and I were the perfect match for each other. He was everything a girl could ask for in a boyfriend—good looking with a great heart. He had a farm on the outskirts of town and he even rescued retired racehorses.
Rory looked to Grandma Imelda. “Elly has told me so much about you. I’m glad you decided to come back for a visit and that we finally got to meet.”
“I bet you have heard a lot about me. I just hope it isn’t all bad.” She winked.
He chuckled. “No, it isn’t bad, at all. Elly is so wonderful here at the café. Without your retirement, maybe she wouldn’t have returned.” He smiled at me.
Grandma Imelda looked down as she wiped the countertop, as if she had a secret.
I shrugged. “Maybe I would have returned or maybe I wouldn’t have, but things worked out for the best.”
“Everything is meant to be. That’s what I say.” Grandma Imelda placed a mug in front of Rory and poured in the coffee.
“Well, I’m glad things worked out this way.” Rory stared at me.
I touched his hand and squeezed. When he came in for a visit before the workday started, it always put a spring in my step and made the day a little bit brighter.
Cooking at the café was wonderful, but having Rory as a customer made it that much better. Although I’d forced him to stop paying for food a long time ago, so I guess he couldn’t be considered a real customer.
“So you ladies have been hard at work already?” Rory glanced over at the red velvet cake.
I swallowed hard. Grandma Imelda continued wiping down the counter and didn’t meet my gaze. I knew she felt my stare. Rory’s attention was still on the dessert case. The red velvet cake was displayed behind the glass as if it was a work of art on exhibit in a museum.
“You have a new treat that you baked up?” Rory looked from me, then back over at the cake. I wanted to block his view.
I needed to chance his focus. Maybe if I stripped off my clothing? No, that would be a bad idea. Nothing to see here, Rory, move on along now.
When it was apparent that he wasn’t giving up on a dessert, I asked, “Could I interest you in a nice piece of cherry pie?”
Grandma Imelda touched my shoulder. “Sweetheart, your pie is delicious, but what about your newest creation? The red velvet cake. How quickly she forgets.” She shook her head and gestured toward the cake.
Work with me here, Grandma. I hoped she didn’t think she was giving Rory that cake with the potion baked in it. I know she said to give it to family and friends, but after what had happened to Rory last time, there was no way I could let her do that. No more magic for Mr. Rory Covington. No way.
“Has Rory ever had a slice of your red velvet cake?” She just was not letting the subject drop. She was a persistent little thing.
“This is news to me. She’s never mentioned it, but it sounds delicious.”
She clapped her hands together. “One slice of red velvet cake coming up. You’re going to love it.”
“How long are you staying, Mrs. Blair?” Rory asked, as he watched her remove the cake from the case.
I should have known better than to let her put that cake on display. It was a scrumptious, icing covered beacon, calling for everyone to take a big bite. It was as if it had a huge sign attached that read: Eat me. You know you want to.
“You call me Grandma Imelda, young man. And to answer your question, I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m setting out for a trip to the Galapagos Islands.”
“Yes, her and her new boyfriend.” I winked.
“Sounds fantastic. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time.” Rory eyed the cake again, silently asking for a big slice.
She sliced a huge chunk off the cake. Did he really need that large of a helping?
Grandma Imelda ignored my glare. “I can’t thank Elly enough for taking over the café for me. What would Mystic Hollow do without the café?”
“Well, the town would fall apart,” Rory answered with a chuckle.
Time for a subject change. I’d told Rory about the magic, but he thought I used it only sporadically, not every single day. The Organization had said the less that Rory knew the better off he’d be. Anytime someone learned of the spells, they had to be briefed by the Organization, then they became a part of that world forever. Always closely monitored so that the magic wouldn’t get into the wrong hands, and fewest people possible would know about it.
Sometimes the Organization even erased someone’s memory of the magic world if necessary. They only used that as a last resort though. Rory had accepted it surprisingly easily. Like I said, Mystic Hollow was surrounded by magic, but not everyone knew about it. Tourists and most residents weren’t even aware of the town’s mystical powers.
Rory had only recently discovered that the café wasn’t the only place magic was used in town. Right after he found out about the barbershop he went over to for a haircut. Not that the styles looked differently from any ordinary haircuts, quite the contrary actually, but the scissors sure made people feel great when they got a trim. I couldn’t believe I’d been surrounded by the magic for as long as I had without knowing about it. Grandma Imelda was great at keeping secrets.
She had been adding magic to my food since I was a baby. And I’d worked in the café when I was in high school and never caught on to her hijinks. She’d done an excellent job of keeping it from me. I’d always wondered what that big book was tucked up there on the shelf, but every time I went to check it out it would be gone. And the spices and potions hadn’t been there either. Maybe it was better that I hadn’t known. I wouldn’t have been ready for it. I’d probably have tried to use it on a few people from school and that would have spelled disaster. Pun intended.
Rory watched Grandma Imelda’s every move as she brought the plate over to him. There was no stopping him now. I couldn’t tell him it wasn’t edible. Or could I? No, no, that wouldn’t be right. Grandma Imelda wouldn’t let me get by with that, anyway. Why did she want him to have the potion before everyone else in town had any? The dreadful thought of Rory receiving a bad spell again was almost more than I could handle.
Just as I moved to follow her back to the pastry case and ask her why she’d given him the cake, the bell on the door jangled drawing my attention away. A stream of customers entered the café, scattering like mice from one side of the room to the other. Mary Jane was late and I couldn’t keep my eye on my grandmother and wait on all the customers at the same time.
Where had everyone come from, anyway? It was as if they’d come into the café just to distract me. Like magic. I quirked an eyebrow in Grandma Imelda’s direction and she quickly looked away. If one or two customers has strolled in, fine, but ten? Sure, it was breakfast time, but customers usually trickled in, not in one mad gush. That never happened. I glanced over at Imelda again, but she still didn’t acknowledge my stare.
I hurried over, grabbed an armful of menus, then rushed around the room plopping down the menus. I didn’t make eye contact and didn’t offer my usual friendly greeting. Yes, I was being a terrible hostess, but there was no avoiding it.
After plunking down the last of the menus and getting a dirty glare from the woman at table ten, I rushed toward Rory. But as he lifted the fork to his mouth and took a big bite, I realized it was too late.