A Taste of Magic (20 page)

“Let’s move the smaller boxes into the closet and the larger ones can be stacked over here, by the bed,” I said. Mainly, I was trying to clear the far corner of the room so there’d be a spot for the bed Scot had brought over on his truck.

“Why don’t you unpack everything and throw the boxes away?” my brother asked with a smirk. “Rather than just find another spot to stack them?”

“I don’t have time to do that; she’ll be here in the morning. So, help me or leave, but quit being a butthead.”

He put his hand over his heart. “Ouch. You wound me, baby sister. I shall cry a thousand tears at your hurtful remark.”

“Not likely. How did you get an extra bed, anyway?”

“It’s my old one. It was still sitting in storage. You may as well use it for now.”

“I appreciate it. You know, your place is bigger than mine. Grandma could stay with you easier than with me.”

“No.”

My brother, the one-word wonder. I actually didn’t mind Grandma moving in, but teasing Scot was just so much fun. “Aw, come on. Think about it at least.”

“I’ll think about it.” He picked up the box closest to him and stuck it in the closet. “Thought about it. No.”

“She stayed with you before. When her condo was painted.”

“Uh-huh, which is why I’m saying no. You’ll find out why soon enough. If you really don’t want her here, call Alice.”

“She’d probably be good for Alice, but she wants to stay here. You and I both know there’s no talking her out of something once she makes up her mind.”

“Then quit haranguing me.”

“Whew, that’s a big word for you! Is that your word-of-the-day?” I grinned to soften the insult. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

“Bite me. Are we doing this or not?” Scot asked, gesturing to my room.

“What? You can’t talk and move silly little boxes around at the same time? It’s called multitasking.”

Scot crossed his arms over his blue T-shirt. “I’m going to leave, and you’ll be stuck sharing that bed with Grandma.”

“Doesn’t bother me.”

“And her cat. The cat likes to crawl on your face when you’re sleeping. You’ll wake up with hair in your throat and the taste of the litter box in your mouth.”

I shuddered. “Gross. You’ve made your point.”

Once the room was rearranged appropriately, I asked, “Hungry? I can make something if you are.”

“No thanks. I’m going out tonight.”

Something in his voice startled me. I’d always been fairly attuned to my siblings. Well, all except for Joe. I’d never figure him out. Scot and I were close, being the two eldest, and we’d always had an especially strong connection. “Out to dinner with whom?” I watched him closely.

His eyes shot downward and he brushed his hair off his forehead. “Did I say I was going out with anyone?” If there was a picture next to the word avoidance in the dictionary, it would most definitely be one of Scot. Trust me. He was, beyond a doubt, hiding something.

“You’d like me to believe you’re eating at a restaurant by yourself? Come on, bro—I know you better than that. You despise eating in public by yourself.”

“Not true. I eat out by myself all the time.”

“Where? McDonalds?”

“And this is important to you why? You sound like Mom.”

“Ouch. Don’t ever say that to me again.”

He didn’t speak, just shifted a few more boxes around in the closet—which was totally unnecessary, by the way.

“Don’t tell me, then. What ever.”

“You’re such a whiner. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this anyway.” He hesitated for a second and then continued, “I’m meeting Marc for dinner tonight.” It was way too evident he didn’t like admitting it to me. We were both silent for a minute while I took it in. I wasn’t completely sure how I felt about it.

That’s a lie. It bugged the hell out of me.

“Marc? My ex-husband Marc? Why in the world would you be doing that? You hate me that much?”

“Give me a break, Liz. He’s my financial consultant, you know that. You hooked us up.” Lifting his gaze from the floor, he said, “He does a good job with my money.”

Silly, but I wanted to scream “Traitor!” at him. I wanted to stomp on the ground like a three-year-old. Basically, I wanted to be an obnoxious brat. Obviously, I didn’t. Because while I didn’t like it, I did understand. I hated that I understood. Sometimes, being mature sucks. “Well, okay. Marc is exceptional at what he does,” I grudgingly admitted.

“You’re not going to cry or anything, are you?”

I laughed at the expression on Scot’s face. As soon as I did, all the tension in the room evaporated. Poor guy. “Of course not. It’s up to you who you hire. I won’t say I’m happy about it, but it’s your call.”

“Don’t think I didn’t lay into him after he left you. I did. Hell, I even gave him a black eye.” Scot grinned at that statement, and my heart warmed. Like I said, sometimes, older brothers rock. Even better, I remembered Marc showing up at the house with a shiner. I didn’t bother asking him about it because that would have shown I cared. And you don’t want to show a man who’s just left you for a Barbie doll bimbo that you cared. “That was you?”

With a sheepish grin, Scot nodded. “And then, we just got back to business. That’s how it is with guys. I showed my respect for you, he took it like a man, and we forgot about it.”

Ha. I wished I could forget about it so easily. Maybe I should punch Marc in the eye. I almost told Scot that Marc was sticking his nose into my bakery business, but really, what would that have solved? Absolutely nothing, that’s what.

With a smile as bright as I could make it, I said, “Let’s go haul the bed in so you can head out for your date with Marc.”

“Brat.”

“Snot.”

An hour later, after we’d finished setting the bed up, Scot took off. I wondered if he’d ever give up his bachelorhood. I kind of doubted it. Years ago, I’d tried to fix him up with Maddie, only it hadn’t clicked. For either of them. I was tempted to remedy that with a magical batch of cupid cookies but quickly decided against it. After all, I’d be ticked off if I was magically coerced into falling in love with someone. Besides, it was unlikely it would work anyway. The result would probably be something entirely unexpected. Not to mention, something entirely disastrous.

Yeah, I caught on quick.

What I could do was go check on Maddie. I’d only seen her a minute the other night, so I was really curious if she was back to normal or not. Then, I had a mile-long grocery list of Grandma Verda’s to fill.

I tucked my keys in my pocket and took the stairs to Maddie’s. She answered the door with a smile on her face. “Oh. I thought you were Spencer.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.”
Wow
. Points for me and for Miranda’s magic. “You look amazing,” I said, taking in her shining hair, rosy cheeks, and sultry-shaded eyes.

“Thank you! I’m feeling so much better.”

“Can I come in? Or is he going to be here at any minute?”

“Oh, of course you can. Want to join us tonight? We’re going to check out a new comedy club Spencer’s all excited about.”

She stepped aside, and I walked past her. “Nah, I don’t think Spencer would be thrilled with an add-on.” Before she could argue, I said, “Besides, I have plans with Dominick’s to-night.”

“Oh! If I give you a list, could you pick me up a few things? I know that’s awful of me, but I’ve been so miserable lately I haven’t even bothered shopping.”

“Sure, that’s cool. So, you’re really feeling back to normal?” “Better than normal.”

She grabbed a note pad out of her desk and wrote a few things down. Handing it to me, she said, “This will do until I can get to the store. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I can do,” I said without thinking.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, well. Hmm. We need to talk, but this probably isn’t the best time with Spencer showing up soon. Tomorrow, if you can, let’s get together.”

I needed to share the weight of this with somebody, and Maddie was my best friend. And now that she was feeling better, I didn’t have to worry about her reaction. At least, I didn’t think I did. Before, well, who knew what she might have done. Visions of a girl fight flashed in front of me. Trust me, she’d win, hands down.

A curious light glinted in her eyes. “You want to come here, or should I come to your place?”

Good question. Grandma Verda would have moved in, lock, stock, and barrel by then. It could be a good thing, since she knew the story better than I did. Or, it could go the other way, if she decided I should keep my mouth shut. Making a decision, I said, “Here. I’ll come up here.” Later, if Maddie wanted to talk to Grandma about it, she certainly could.

“What’s this about?”

“Nothing to stress over. Something I want some advice on. That’s all.”

A knock on her door brought another smile to her face. “How do I look? Tell me the truth.”

“Breathtaking,” I said. “I’m gonna take off. Have a great time tonight!”

“I plan on it. In more ways than one.” She opened the door. Spencer, a blond cutie with glasses, smiled in appreciation as his gaze flitted over Maddie. I couldn’t blame him. She was a knockout.

“Hi, Spencer. Bye, Spencer.” I walked to the hallway and waved behind my head as I took the steps. “You guys have fun!”

At my place, I found the list from Grandma, jotted Maddie’s items on it, and went off in search of delicacies such as Spam and Wonder Bread.

Yep, my thoughts exactly. Absolutely disgusting. If nothing else, living with Grandma Verda would be a culinary experience I wouldn’t soon forget.

Chapter Fourteen

“Grandma, what is that smell?” I asked, coming into the kitchen. The move-in over, I was trying to adjust to having a roomie. Already, I recognized I’d have to relax on a few things.

Shirley meowed and rubbed herself between my legs. The giant orange tabby had waltzed into my apartment as if she were a queen, inspected the entire place, and then pounced on top of the TV. More often than not, she was there, soaking in the warmth.

“Hi, honey. I’m making dinner for Shirley.”

It took a minute for that to sink in. “You’re cooking the cat dinner?”

“Well, of course. You don’t like to eat cold food every night, do you?”

Um. Okay. But I wasn’t a cat. “What is it you’re heating up?” I probably didn’t want to know. Not really. But a strange compulsion overtook my senses, and I asked anyway. Dumb, huh?

“She really likes Spam mixed in with some tuna and a little of her moist food. Don’t you, baby?” Grandma sing-songed to the tabby.

“Wait a minute. You actually put canned cat food in my Calphalon pan? Grandma, no.”

“What? Your pan is too good for my Shirley? I hardly think so. Don’t be silly, Elizabeth. It will wash.”

I really wanted to point out to her that I wasn’t the silly one. Most people would be as grossed out as I was at the thought of heating up cat food on the freaking stove. But. She. Is. My. Grandmother. I must show respect.

“’Kay, just don’t use any other pan. That can be Shirley’s pan. Lucky cat.”

Mental note to self: replace cat pan with human pan as soon as possible. Oh, and don’t use cat pan for soup or any other human food
.

Well, unless I had a reason to cook for Marc again.

“I’m going to take a bath and get ready for bed. I’m meeting Maddie tomorrow for lunch, so I won’t be here. Will you be okay?” Maddie had spent the previous night at Spencer’s so was unavailable for our planned talk. I figured a Saturday afternoon was better anyway. More time to explain I wasn’t crazy.

“Joe’s coming by to take me to the hospital to see Vinny. I’ll be fine.” Grandma Verda spooned the absolutely disgusting mash of weird food into a bowl and set it down for Shirley. And, I have to admit, the feline pounced on it as if it were a feast for a king. Or, in this case, a queen.

You know how certain cooking smells just linger and never really dissipate—like, cabbage? Well, that smell would likely never leave this apartment. Probably, I’d have to find a new place when, and if, Grandma moved out.

An hour later, I was tucked into bed. Grandma had insisted that the bed Scot brought over was sufficient, that she didn’t need my larger one. This, as silly as it sounds, made me happy. I loved my bed. It was the only valuable piece of furniture I’d purchased when I moved in.

“Good night, Grandma. I’m glad you’re here,” I said into the dark.

“’Night, baby. Thank you for having me.”

My eyes closed. I stuck my nose into my pillow. I’d sprayed it liberally with my peach-scented body spray to douse out the cat-food stink. I had a feeling I’d be sleeping like this for the remainder of Grandma’s stay.

And then, out of nowhere, a warm breeze touched my cheek, and the heady fragrance of flowers overtook the peach. I squeezed the blanket tight around me, curling my fingers into a fist. Excitement and apprehension mingled as I waited.

“Elizabeth, can you see me this time?”

My eyes popped open. Yep, she was back. No way could I ignore her, either. The entire room swirled with a kaleidoscope of light as Miranda’s voice hit my ears. It was if a million rainbows were in my bedroom, shooting off in a zillion different directions.

Great.
Now Grandma would know about Miranda. I hoped like hell it didn’t scare her to the point of a stroke. Or a heart attack. “No,” I whispered, squinting through the colors.

“What? Lizzie, did you say something?” asked Grandma Verda.

“No, Grandma.” Keep your eyes closed, I prayed. Just keep them shut.

“I need you to see me. It has to be you. No one else has been as strong as you are. You’re the only one I’ve really been able to connect with.”

“I can’t see you,” I whispered. And what did she mean “connect with?”

“What the hell is this? Lizzie, what’s going on? Who else is here? Are you on the phone? What’s with all the damn color? Is this some disco thing?” My grandma’s voice flooded the room. She wanted answers, and she didn’t sound scared at all.

“Can you hear her, Grandma?”

“Verda, can you see me?” Miranda asked, ripples of excitement floating off each word.

Wait. Could ghosts get excited? Apparently, they could. “Who is that? Who’s talking to me?”
Now
Grandma sounded nervous.

I sighed. There really was no way around it. I really, really hoped she was strong enough to handle this. “It’s Miranda. She’s come to pay a visit,” I said carefully, ready to rush to her bed if need be.

Miranda laughed. “What a delightful girl you are.” Every time Miranda spoke, the lights in the room pulsed and increased in brightness.

“Miranda? Well, it’s about time,” my grandmother said. “I’ve waited for this for far too long.”

Huh?

“Magic?” Maddie laughed. “Sure. Okay, honey. What ever you say.”

“I’m serious. Everything I’ve told you is the truth.”

She arched a waxed eyebrow in disbelief. “And you say this … Miranda is trying to appear before you and your grandmother?”

“Well, it was just me. But with Grandma moving in, she caught the show last night.”

“And what did Miranda say last night?”

I ignored the disbelief in Maddie’s voice. “Not much. She left almost right away again. It’s as if she can’t stick around for very long. And for some reason, I think it’s important we see her. She just kept asking if we were able to.”

“And could you?”

I shook my head. “No. The room fills with color, and sometimes I think I see a shape in the middle of it, but it’s more like the suggestion of a shape than it is an actual shape.”

“Oh. I see. A
suggestion
of a shape.” Maddie grabbed her purse from the dining room table. Opening her wallet, she sifted through business cards.

“What are you doing?”

“I have a card for a psychiatrist I was going to see. I think you need it more than I do. Aha, here it is!”

“I don’t need to see a shrink. I’m fine. Well, okay, not fine. But not crazy, either. What I’m telling you is the truth, so unless your psychiatrist is also a medium, it’s not going to do me much good.”

She returned to the couch and put her hands on my shoulders. “Look me straight in the eyes and tell me you’re not making any of this up.”

“I am not making any of this up.”

Letting go, she sighed. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Silence loomed between us as she let the information absorb in.

“So—you cast a spell on me?”

I nodded.

“Assuming I believe you, that’s why I was so miserable?”

“I think so. It was the first spell I cast on purpose, and I thought I was giving you something good. I didn’t do it right, so yeah, pretty sure it was my fault you were miserable.”

“That spell almost ruined things for me and Spencer.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

“Are you positive the second spell isn’t going to screw me up in some way?”

I fiddled with a loose string on the hem of my shirt. “Well …”

“Well, what?” She frowned. “You’re
not
sure?”

There really was no two ways about it. I’d chosen to confide in her. Mistake? Maybe, but nothing I could do about that now. I might as well say it all. “No. I’m not positive. But you’re feeling better, right?”

She crossed her arms. “Now? Yes. But I felt good with the last spell, before everything went crazy.”

“I fixed it as soon as I could.”

Another raised brow. “Did you? I was pretty unhappy for a while.”

“Well. You see … Um.”

“Spit it out, Elizabeth.”

Oh, she was ticked. Maddie almost always called me by nicknames. “Nate ate the first fix before I could stop him,” I blurted.

“Can you prove it to me?”

“What? That Nate ate the cake? Just ask him.”

She sighed. “No, that you… put magic, or what ever, in your baking.”

“Yes!” Why hadn’t I thought of that? “Do you have a cake or a brownie mix? Muffins? Anything?”

Instead of answering, she beckoned me with her hand and marched to her kitchen, shoulders set. I didn’t know if proving it was such a good idea, after all. I mean, yeah, I wanted her to believe me, but I also didn’t feel like getting clubbed.

I heard the slamming of cupboard doors before I even reached the kitchen. A box of muffin mix, a mixing bowl, and the muffin tin was already sitting on the counter. She moved in a blur, so intent to get me all the ingredients I needed to make her believe.

Or to prove I was a fake.

She put her hands on her hips. “There you go, Elizabeth. Will this do? Is this enough for you to cast a spell?”

Whoa. Definitely not a good idea. “Look. If you don’t believe me, you don’t believe me. Even if I do this, you’ll find a way to ignore what you see.”

“I swear I won’t. Unless you’re afraid?”

I’m not ashamed to admit her taunt worked. Nodding, I grabbed the muffin box, read the back quickly, and ripped open the top. “We need to decide on a spell. What am I wishing for?”

“How about your heart’s desire? Getting Marc back?”

“I don’t want Marc back. Besides, I already spelled him. One worked. I’m waiting on the results from the second one.”

“Oh?”

“Let’s do this. And then when you see I’m not a liar or crazy, I’ll explain then.”

“Fair enough. Okay, um, wish for world peace.”

“My grandmother says it doesn’t work that way.”

“How exactly does it work then, Elizabeth?”

Holy cow, she was pushing all of my buttons. Clamping my mouth shut, I tried to think. “Never mind. I know what I’ll wish for.”

I dumped the contents of the box into the mixing bowl, cracked two eggs, and measured in the oil. Before I began, I focused on Maddie once more. “Are you sure about this? Sometimes it can get a little overwhelming.”

Tapping her foot, she replied, “I’m one hundred percent positive. Just do it.”

I ignored the electric mixer and picked up the wooden spoon. This way, she wouldn’t be able to blame anything on electricity. Besides, I preferred my muffins dense and rich. There was no reason for shoddy muffins, even if this was only a test.

Scraping the sides of the bowl to start, I fashioned the exact words to say. Because I wanted this to be a powerful show for Maddie, I was casting the only spell I could think of that meant anything to me at the moment. The one I still couldn’t seem to get right.

I closed my eyes and started stirring the contents together. I focused on what I wanted, poured my heart and soul into it, and whispered, “This wish is for me. I wish to be able to see my life with clarity, to know what I truly want, and to find the courage to go after it. No matter what it is, my wish is to never hide from myself again.”

The familiar energy began at my toes and climbed up my body like a vine, stronger and stronger. It reached my hands and flew out of me into the spoon. Instantly, the weighted zap of electricity sung through the air, bright colors flared from the spoon into the bowl. I kept stirring, repeating the wish over and over. Wind blew, and I heard a crash behind me, but I didn’t stop. My body pulsated with power, with magic, and I mentally grabbed hold of it and pummeled it out of me, straight into the batter.

I opened my eyes and saw the entire bowl was alight with myriad colors, shining, darting, glowing, jumping around as if someone had set off a miniature firework show. Laughing, I tipped my head back and repeated my wish one last time, with force, with all the emotion I could wring into it. I shuddered, let go of the spoon, and dropped to my knees. Slowly, very slowly, the energy faded, and Maddie’s kitchen returned to normal.

With a deep inhalation, I centered myself, ascertained I could stand without falling, and then pulled myself to my feet. Turning, I looked at Maddie. “That proof enough for you?”

“Damn, Lizzie. What the hell are you? A witch?”

I felt her then—Miranda. I knew she was there, with me, inside me, around me. My heritage. My gift. Who I truly was. “No, Maddie. Not a witch. I’m a gypsy.”

I fed Jon a bite of the new cupcakes I’d baked for him. Instead of trying to fix anything, I’d cast a spell to remove the effects of all the other spells. Maybe, just maybe, that would work.

He grinned at me and swallowed the bite I’d shoved into his mouth. Wiping crumbs off his lips, he said, “Enough. We need to focus. They’ll be here soon.”

Happy he’d eaten some of the cupcake, I tossed the rest in the trash. If it worked on him, I’d bake another batch for Maddie. Just to be sure. I mean, yeah, she seemed okay, but I was still anxious about it. “We’re going to ace this. Quit flipping out.”