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A Slice of Christmas Magic
A. G. Mayes


A magical Christmas mystery perfect for fans of Debbie Macomber! A recipe for festive disaster… With Aunt Erma back in charge of her magical pie shop Susanna Daniels thought life would return to normal. But there is no �normal’ in Hocus Hills and as the most magical time of year approaches Susie finds herself in a race to stop a magic revolution. Add in the unexpected arrival of the one that got away and a mysterious dog named Duncan, and it’s clear that this will be one Christmas that Susie will never forget!









A Slice of Christmas Magic

A. G. MAYES








One More Chapter

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London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

Copyright В© A. G. Mayes 2019

Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019

Cover images В© Thomas Marchessault / Alamy Stock Photo (window frame); Leeyakorn06 / Shutterstock.com (http://Shutterstock.com) (cakes)

A. G. Mayes asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008319151

Ebook Edition В© November 2019 ISBN: 9780008319144

Version: 2019-10-03


Table of Contents

Cover (#u397ace60-e031-5a46-a7c4-ccaafd70594e)

Title Page (#uef3d857f-ac19-5116-b2fe-15700f9887fc)

Copyright (#ub99ff169-102e-5c8f-9794-58ef2f1f6db4)

Dedication (#uc60687fe-5787-53a6-ab8d-695fe5b9d045)

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Acknowledgements

Also by A. G. Mayes

About the Author

About the Publisher


For Chris

and everyone who loves

pie, puppies, and magic




Prologue (#ua92752a4-d33e-5aa4-9524-bd000b219827)


From the outside, the cottage nestled in the snowy countryside at the bottom of a hill looked as if it belonged on the pages of a storybook, but for the Drake family inside life was no happily ever after.

Dennis and Stan, father and son, were playing chess by the fire when a woman with graying brown hair and sharp green eyes stormed in and threw back the hood of her cloak. The younger man felt all the muscles in his body tense.

“Did you get it?” she asked.

“No,” Stan answered quietly. Dennis stared at the board.

“What?” she asked sharply. Both men flinched. “We would be in control of all the magic in Hocus Hills by now if you two blundering buffoons didn’t fail at every little task.” She spoke as though all the magical residents in the town of Hocus Hills were just objects for her to possess.

“We thought Alice was our star, but then she set us back when she got caught. I should have never let her convince me she could control people through altered magic spices. She didn’t have the skills. I mean, cookies? Come on!” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think her heart was in the mission. She was too distracted by the loss of her sister, Nellie.”

Sometimes his mother just liked to hear the sound of her own voice, Stan thought.

“We can try something else,” Dennis offered, not taking his eyes off the chess board.

“Of course, we’ll try something else,” Brenda snapped. “We need to figure the magic out. Only two days before Ivan gets here. Two!” She slammed her hand on the table and chess pieces bounced off the board, clattering to the floor. “He’s not as kind as I am.”

“We have a plan for getting new recruits,” Stan said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“We need more than your plans. We need more people before Ivan gets here. That part shouldn’t be hard though. There’s always magical people who want more than to hide out in a small town.”

She paced up and down the room, her shoes clicking sharply against the floor. Stan watched his mother pace.

“Erma, she’s always a problem. She’s been keeping those spices under lock and key,” Brenda was muttering under her breath now. “But think of how happy Ivan would be if we got her magic.”

She went to the fireplace and threw in a couple of logs. Sparks flew, and heat poured out as the flames rose higher.

“We need the rest of them.” She flung her hand at the spice bottle displayed on the mantel of the fireplace like a trophy. “You two can’t get anything done right. I’ll go out in the morning and sneak into the kitchen of her pie shop while she’s getting ready to open. She’ll have the spices out then.”

“What about her niece?” Stan watched the fire instead of his mother as he asked the question.

“I think I can take her,” Brenda said sarcastically.

“They still have the protection spells on the pie shop. You won’t be able to use your magic,” Dennis said.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need magic. I just need to be smarter than them. That shouldn’t be hard.”

Brenda pulled up the hood on her cloak, threw open the door, and was gone without another word.

Dennis bent down to pick up the chess pieces and the two of them got back to their game.




Chapter 1 (#ua92752a4-d33e-5aa4-9524-bd000b219827)


Dear Elodie,

My husband and I are expecting our first child in six weeks. He recently informed me that he won’t be able to make it to the birth because of a “work trip”. Elodie, I am beside myself. When I ask him if he can reschedule this work trip, he says those are the only days the clients are available. I find that a little hard to believe. I would think any client would understand rescheduling a business trip to be there when your baby is born. We both love our jobs, but I sometimes feel like my husband uses his as an excuse to treat me badly. What do I do?

Sincerely,

Lonely Delivery

Dear Lonely Delivery,

My recommendation would be to go back in time and have a baby with someone else. Assuming that’s not a valid option, you should try to sit your husband down and have an open talk about your needs right now. He may be experiencing anxiety surrounding the birth. Now I completely agree that it shouldn’t be your job to soothe his nerves since you’re kind of busy growing a human, but sometimes life throws these curve balls at us. Tell your husband what you told me about using his job as an excuse. Try to keep your conversation productive and avoid accusations.

And congratulations on your first child!

Ask and I’ll Answer,

Elodie

I wiped a bead of sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and surveyed the display case. It was packed full of pies. Only ten minutes until we opened.

Aunt Erma came out from the kitchen carrying a blueberry pie, her specialty. She wore a hat with felt antlers and jingle bells.

“What do you think? Do we have enough?” She stood next to me.

“Not if business keeps up the way it has,” I said. We’d sold out every day this week. Now that Aunt Erma was back and could teach me her secret recipes with her magic spices, customers had been pouring through the door.

She kept her spices under magical lock and key except when we were baking. As we still had a few pies to top off with a sprinkle of spice, the wooden box was sitting on the kitchen island. It was painted purple and covered in a glittery glaze with twelve glass bottles inside. Each one was labeled with a number written in green. Bottle number three looked a little different from the rest. That was the spice Alice had stolen, and the original bottle was still missing. Aunt Erma had replaced the bottle when she’d created a new batch.

The garbage can in the kitchen was overflowing so I wheeled it towards the back door, grunting as I tried to pull it into the alley without tipping it over. I took a deep breath and heaved the plastic bag out of the bin. A “meow” startled me and I dropped the bag. It burst open and garbage spilled at my feet. I held my breath as I made eye contact with a blue-eyed cat peering at me from behind the dumpster.

Just one month ago, before I knew anything about magic, Aunt Erma had been the cat in the alley. An evil woman named Alice had turned her into a cat and stolen Aunt Erma’s magic spices before opening a cookie shop and attempting to alter Aunt Erma’s magic spices so she could use them to control people. She was working with Stan, the pie shop’s former delivery man, and Stan’s parents, Brenda and Dennis Drake. Only Alice had been caught so far, and she was in some kind of magical jail. The exact details about what exactly was involved in magical lockup were still a little fuzzy to me, and no one seemed eager to fill me in. The Drakes were still on the loose, and they had escaped with one of the bottles of magic spice. A fact that had kept Aunt Erma and I feeling a little on edge the past few weeks no matter how much we tried to focus on our holiday pie preparation.

“Meow once if you’re human,” I said in a low voice. The cat meowed again, and my eyes widened.

“Are you talking to a cat?” Henry asked, appearing from around the corner. His brown eyes twinkled, and his wavy brown hair stuck out from under his dark green stocking cap. Henry was my almost boyfriend. We had been dating for a few weeks, and I think we were nearing that point in the relationship when I could begin to use the B word.

“How do you know this isn’t a person?” I asked, greeting him with a quick kiss.

“I’m magic,” he said with a smile. “And I know that’s Mrs. Peterson’s cat. He likes to do a lap around town every morning.”

I leaned in for another kiss, enjoying the giddy feeling of being in a new relationship.

“I have to go,” Henry said, sneaking in one more kiss. This time lingering for an extra moment before pulling away. “I’m in charge of the bingo game today, and I’ll never hear the end of it if I’m late.” Henry worked at the nursing home. “Do you need help cleaning this up before I go?” He motioned to the pile of garbage. The breeze had begun to carry some bits across the pavement, and if I didn’t clean it up quickly I was at risk of being ticketed by Sheriff Buddy for littering.

“No, no, I’ve got it. I don’t want to be responsible for keeping you from your bingo game.”

Once he was gone, I closed my eyes and quietly murmured a lifting spell that I hoped would take care of this mess. I tried to feel the energy around me, and channel it toward the garbage. I heard it shifting against the pavement. I focused harder. Even though I was new to magic, I’d already begun to accept that the impossible was possible.

A strange feeling made my skin prickle and my eyes snapped open. A couple pieces of garbage fell from the air back to the pavement. I saw a cloaked figure at the end of the alley. There was something familiar about the way she moved. It couldn’t be her, could it? We were both frozen, our eyes locked, and I shuddered. I think I moved first, but she sprang into action at almost the same moment. I don’t know what my plan was if I caught her. I hadn’t really expected something like this to happen. Of all the possible scenarios Aunt Erma and I had discussed, this wasn’t one of them. We didn’t think she’d show up in broad daylight. She disappeared around the corner. I was just seconds behind her, but she was gone. I ran to the next corner and looked up and down the street. I tried to catch my breath as my breakfast pie flipped over in my stomach and threatened to reemerge.

The street was beginning to fill up with morning shoppers, and a few heads turned my way. I forced a smile. I didn’t want anyone to guess that Brenda had just been here. It had happened so fast I almost questioned whether or not I had actually seen her. No, it was definitely her. I had to call Violet.

I scanned the street as I dialed. “Brenda was here.” My voice was quiet, but urgent.

“I’m on my way.” Violet hung up. I felt better knowing she’d be there soon. Violet and I had a rocky relationship. Back when I was running the pie shop alone, she’d kept coming in looking for Aunt Erma and making accusations. At the time, I’d thought she was a health inspector. I later learned she was a magic inspector, and a good person to have on your side.

I made my way back down the alley to the pie shop. I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder a few times to check if Brenda was following me. Those green eyes. They were burned into my memory, and I would be perfectly happy never seeing them again.

Aunt Erma’s cries echoed into the empty alley and I ran through the open back door. She was leaning over the kitchen island, breathing hard. Her gray hair was a frizzy mess and her felt antlers were askew. A rolling pin was on the floor and a few of the pies we’d had cooling on the counter were now splattered across the kitchen.

“What happened?” I rushed over to Aunt Erma, my eyes scanning over her, looking for injuries.

“She was here. She got more.” She pointed to the box of magic spices on the edge of the kitchen counter. Two more bottles were missing. My heart sank.

Brenda must have circled back when I had chased her. How could I have let this happen? I should have stayed by the pie shop.

Now they had three bottles.

“Are you okay?” I asked. I put my hand on her shoulder, still looking to see if she’d been hurt.

“I fought her off. But not before …” Aunt Erma looked at the spice box, still breathing hard. “I had the advantage. She couldn’t use her magic in here, but she had the element of surprise on her side.”

Violet rushed in, her eyes wild.

“The Magic Enforcement Officers are out looking for her.” She grabbed Aunt Erma’s arm and looked her over. “Are you okay?”

Aunt Erma nodded and stood up a little straighter. “I’m fine. Brenda’s probably long gone by now.” Violet nodded. “She came out of nowhere. I didn’t expect her to come when I was right here. But she didn’t hold back. She’s desperate.”

“It’s my fault,” I burst out. They both turned toward me, surprised. “I ran after her down the alley. I should have stayed.” It all seemed so obvious now. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked Aunt Erma.

“I’m fine, and absolutely none of this is your fault,” she said firmly. She smoothed her hair down. “What’s the next step?”

“For you, nothing,” Violet said.

“But they’re my spices,” Aunt Erma protested.

“And as soon as we find them, you’ll be the first person we call. Until then, open the pie shop, and keep your eyes peeled.” As though on cue, there was a knock on the front door of the shop.

“I should be out there looking!”

“Erma.” Violet’s voice was softer than I’d ever heard it. “We have our best people on it. I promise I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.”

Aunt Erma hesitated, then nodded.

There was another knock on the front door, and Violet slipped out the back.

Aunt Erma and I looked at each other for a minute. I bent down, picked up the rolling pin off the floor, and put it in the sink.

We plastered smiles on our faces and opened the pie shop to a small, anxious crowd who burst in full of holiday energy.

“So sorry. Everything’s fine. We just lost track of time,” Aunt Erma assured everyone as we quickly worked to serve them.

I kept picturing Brenda’s icy stare and tried not to visibly shudder. We couldn’t let word get out about the stolen spices. The last thing we needed was widespread panic. I looked at the crowd chatting about their holiday plans and felt envious of their ignorance. I wished I could focus on gift-giving and meal preparations and out-of-town guests instead of panicking about an impending magical disaster.

When I looked at Aunt Erma, I could see no trace of this morning’s traumatic events. She was steady and calm, laughing and joking with the customers. I envied her ability to compartmentalize.

***

Aunt Erma had let it slip once just how dangerous it was that the Drakes had one bottle of spices. We had gone to Sal’s bar one night to celebrate. We were celebrating a lot of things these days – our reunion, the fact that Aunt Erma wasn’t a cat anymore, years of missed holidays and birthdays – and Aunt Erma had introduced me to a drink called a Fairy’s Foot. I was a little hesitant because the name did not sound at all appealing, but it was actually quite delicious. Like drinking a chocolate milkshake. The smooth sweet flavor hid the fact that the drink packed quite a punch, and by our second glass Aunt Erma had completely lost her filter and was sharing information about her love life that would have made me blush if I hadn’t already been flushed from the drink.

“Make sure you find someone with good hands,” she was saying firmly. “The hands are just as important as the …”

“No!” I clapped my hands over my ears. “Tell me something else.”

She giggled. “Fine.” She took a deep breath. “I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“The missing spice bottle. Spice number three. Three, three, bo, bee.” She paused to take a sip of her drink. “The things they can do with that magic.” She shook her head.

“Like what?” I asked. My experience with the spices was limited, but I didn’t understand what would be so bad about them.

“The magic in them is so powerful because of the secret ingredient. That’s why you have to be careful to use just a little bit in the pies and make sure you’re focusing on the proper intention when you add them. I’ll explain it more to you one day. Maybe when I’m sober-er.” She clinked my glass with hers and began talking about highly inappropriate things again before I could ask her what the secret ingredient was.

Flora, Lena, and Mr. Barnes, more affectionately known as the Morning Pie Crew, rushed in the minute there was a lull. Flora’s bookshop was kitty corner from the pie shop, and I sometimes wondered how much of her day was spent peering in our windows. She always seemed to have a pretty good handle on what was happening in the pie shop.

Lena’s white hair was piled on top of her head in its usual bun, but her ever-smiling face was creased with worry. Flora’s big brown eyes scanned us up and down as though searching for injuries. Mr. Barnes was wearing his usual matching fedora and vest. He put his hands on my and Aunt Erma’s shoulders. I immediately felt some of my anxiety slip away. Mr. Barnes was a yoga teacher, and he specialized in calming magic.

“Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay?” Their voices filled the shop as they anxiously turned from Aunt Erma to me and back again.

“Yes, we’re fine.” Aunt Erma waved them away and started pulling plates out so she could serve them pie.

“How did you guys even know that Brenda was here?” I asked.

“Violet called me to ask if I’d seen anything,” Flora explained, fiddling with the sparkly white flower pin on her sweater. “I didn’t. I can’t believe I wasn’t watching.”

“Sit, and we’ll have our pie,” Aunt Erma demanded. I could tell some of her confidence was an act by the way she aggressively cut into the pies and scooped them out onto their plates. She didn’t like to be vulnerable.

I carefully took the plates from her and set them on the table.

“How’s everyone doing today?” I asked, giving them each a meaningful look.

They took the hint and struck up a conversation about today’s Ask Elodie, an advice column in the local paper. Today’s column was about a husband who was going to miss the birth of his first child.

I was one of two people in town who knew that Henry was actually Elodie. He liked to keep that secret because he didn’t want people hounding him when they didn’t agree with his advice. Plus, I think the mystery made people more intrigued by the column.

Flora couldn’t help herself for long though.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I heard her quietly ask Aunt Erma while Mr. Barnes and Lena argued about what constituted a good excuse for missing the birth of your child.

“We’ll get the spices back and everything will be fine,” Aunt Erma said.

She’d no sooner gotten the words out when Violet rushed in, her usually slicked-down hair now stuck out in a messy halo around her head.

“Come with me. It’s already happening,” she said urgently.

Aunt Erma jumped up and the rest of us followed suit.

“Since you all already know about Brenda and the stolen spices, you might as well make yourselves useful,” Violet said, a hint of her sternness returning. She turned to Flora. “Can we use your basement?”

The bookstore had a basement? I’d been there several times, but I’d only seen stairs going up to Flora’s apartment. Never a set going down.

“Of course,” Flora said. We left our half-eaten slices of pie and filed out the door. I reached back in to hang the “Back in ten minutes” sign before locking up.

Like soldiers getting ready for battle, we marched across the street to Flora’s. She led us to a small door in the back of the shop. Everyone but Flora had to crouch down to get through it.

We went down a dark narrow staircase to a room below. It was warm and cozy with a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf filled with old volumes. There was a quiet anxiousness in the room as Violet strode over to a computer with a large screen that sat on a deep mahogany desk. While we waited, Mr. Barnes cleaned his thick-rimmed glasses on the corner of his bright blue shirt. Lena reached over and patted down a stray chunk of his white hair that was sticking straight up on his head after he’d taken his hat off.

“Sit,” Violet demanded. We gathered chairs from around the room and pulled them up to the computer screen. I wasn’t sure what we were about to see. I smiled at Lena, hoping for reassurance, and she flashed a quick smile back at me. Her bright blue eyes lacked their usual twinkle. Violet stuck a thumb drive in the computer, and a black and white video started playing. It was taken from a high angle, looking down at a crowd walking along the street. A cloud descended on the group. It was hard to see exactly what it was in the grainy picture, but suddenly the people were taking slow, even steps. Some of them turned so they were all heading in the same direction. I shivered a little at the sight. Then suddenly everyone stopped walking. People looked around as though confused, and the crowd dispersed.

“They must be having trouble making the effects last very long,” Mr. Barnes said.

“But they’re going to make progress more quickly now that they have more spices to work with,” Aunt Erma said.

The video skipped ahead, and Stan’s parents popped up on the screen. Even in the fuzzy footage, I could recognize them. They were walking along, stopped, and looked straight into the camera.

“That’s strange,” Flora said, her brown eyes narrowed. “They know the camera is there. Why don’t they hide themselves better? They could have erased the footage if they really wanted to.”

“I thought so too,” Violet said. “The only conclusion I could come to is they wanted us to find them. That can only mean one thing. They’re trying to draw you out, Erma.”

All of our heads turned towards Aunt Erma. Her eyebrows were pinched together with worry, but she quickly rearranged her features into a brave face.

“If they want me, they’ll get me,” she said with a determined edge to her voice.




Chapter 2 (#ua92752a4-d33e-5aa4-9524-bd000b219827)


Dear Elodie,

Last week my cousin and her two young daughters were over at my house. I fed them a meal and snacks and drinks and made sure they had games to play with. When they left, I found my favorite porcelain duck statue in pieces and stuffed behind the sofa cushion. I called my cousin to confront her about it, and she denies that her daughters did anything wrong. No one else has been at my house lately. I’m blown away. I wasn’t looking for any monetary reimbursement, but I did expect an apology. I’m so mad right now, I don’t ever want them in my house again. How do I get past my anger if they won’t apologize?

Sincerely,

Decapitated Duck

Dear Decapitated Duck,

One word in your letter stuck out to me – confront. You called your cousin to confront her? Were you aggressive right off the bat? Sometimes when people feel attacked they respond with hostility. Yes, they should have admitted their wrongdoing, but maybe you should also re-examine how you handled their mistakes. Work toward forgiveness because your anger is hurting you more than anyone else.

Ask and I’ll Answer,

Elodie

The room erupted as everyone protested at once.

“I’m going with her,” I yelled over the noise.

“Neither of you is going anywhere until we figure out if this is a trap or not.” Flora pulled out her stern librarian voice that made me shrink back a little.

“I have to go,” Aunt Erma said, almost matching Flora’s firm tone. “I’m best suited for the job since it’s my magic they’re altering. You know how dangerous it could be if they’re successful. For everyone.”

“We’ve been looking for them for months,” Violet added. “Now we’ve seen them twice in one day? They must be gearing up for something.”

Everyone was silent for a minute.

“Susie, I’m not sure you should go, though,” Lena said. “I think I should go along with Erma.”

I bristled a little at her slightly condescending tone. I might be new to this magic thing, but I knew I could be helpful. I had taken karate for three years when I was in elementary school, and kickboxing for four years in college. There were some problems magic couldn’t solve and I was ready to face them.

“We should all go,” Mr. Barnes chimed in.

“That might draw too much attention,” Violet said.

“Susie will come with me,” Aunt Erma said firmly. “We’ll go and see what’s happening and report back.” Everyone nodded. I noticed that when Aunt Erma talked, people tended to agree with her.

“And I’ll keep an eye on you through the security cameras,” Violet said, pointing at the computer screen. She had paused the image on Dennis and Brenda, and I glared at them, trying to build up my confidence. If I could keep myself from being afraid of their image, then I could definitely take them on in person. I tried not to think about Brenda’s eyes.

“I’m going to need a little time to get ready,” Aunt Erma said. I saw calculating curiosity in Violet’s eyes.

“Fine,” she said with one curt nod. “But hurry.”

We emerged from the basement and headed our separate ways. Something about the way Flora hugged me before I left made my stomach clench. How dangerous was this going to be?

“Come with me.” Aunt Erma grabbed my hand and led me to her car.

“Are we going now?” I asked, unable to keep the panic out of my voice.

“No,” she said. “There’s something I want to show you.” I got in the car.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” Aunt Erma ran to the pie shop. She only seemed to have one speed: fast. A minute later she appeared with her dog, Mitzy, close at her heels. Mitzy was a brown ball of fluff with boundless energy. Her large, expressive brown eyes reacted when you talked to her, showing a level of understanding that I often found unsettling.

Aunt Erma opened the back door and Mitzy hopped in. Her tail was wagging so hard I thought she might take flight.

“Mitzy loves a good car ride,” Aunt Erma explained. The dog heard her name and somehow took it as an invitation to leap from the back seat into my lap.

“Hi, Mitzy,” I said flatly. I loved Mitzy, really, but I was still getting used to this furry licking creature who lived life as if she did a shot of espresso every hour.

Aunt Erma drove through Hocus Hills, which currently looked as though Father Christmas had thrown up on every street corner. Lights twinkled on every tree and bush and along the front of every shop. I didn’t see a single door without a wreath and a very elaborate winter wonderland had been set up in the town square complete with nine reindeer, several elves, and Christmas fairies. There were also banners all over town advertising the upcoming snowman-building contest. “Erma’s Pies” was one of the sponsors, and Aunt Erma had been making me practice my snowman-building skills for the last two weeks.

We drove out of town and hit the highway.

“Where are we going?” I asked. The old, light blue car was finally warm, and I sank back into the brown velvet seats. Mitzy had settled down in my lap. Her previous excitement seemed to be wearing off.

“You’ll see,” Aunt Erma said. She turned up the volume on the radio and Christmas songs filled the car. She sang “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” at the top of her lungs. I’d learned how to sing from her – off key, but enthusiastic. Her energy was infectious and soon I was singing too. Mitzy groaned disapprovingly and moved to the back seat of the car. I would have to remember to sing loudly next time she was bugging me.

We exited the highway and turned down a narrow, wooded road. The dark green pine trees contrasted beautifully with the white snow and silver bark of the birch trees. The trees got thicker and we turned down an even more narrow dirt road. The tires crunched against the gravel and I bit my tongue, trying to resist the urge to ask where we were going again. Finally Aunt Erma pulled over as far as she could, which wasn’t far on this skinny stretch, and put the car in park.

“Is this it?” I asked, looking around expecting to see something more than trees and snow.

“Yes. Follow me.” She got out of the car, and Mitzy flew over the seat to follow her. I opened the door and wrapped my red coat tighter around my body. I shivered against the cold air.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing yet?” I hurried to keep up with her. She was half a foot shorter than I was and twice my age, but she walked so fast! I was sure her speed was the result of some sort of magic, but when I’d once asked her she’d winked and said, “It’s not magic. It’s yoga.”

I really had to start going to more of Mr. Barnes’s yoga classes this winter. Or I was going to have to stop walking with Aunt Erma.

Mitzy was frolicking in the snow but still managed to keep up. I hopped over sticks and tried to step exactly in Aunt Erma’s footprints, so the deep snow didn’t go over the edge of my short boots. We didn’t seem to be following any path, and I couldn’t imagine a building would pop up in these deserted woods. Where in the world could she be taking me? Aunt Erma stopped so abruptly and I was hurrying so fast behind her that I ran into her, unable to stop my momentum.

“Sorry,” I said, scratching my nose, which had bumped against her tall fuzzy white hat.

“We’re here,” she said with a satisfied nod.

“We’re in the middle of the woods,” I said, glancing around, wondering which of us was going nutty.

“There.” She pointed ahead of us.

I squinted and saw a small tree, just a few feet taller than me. It had green, red, and silver baubles hanging from the branches. Even in the dead of winter, it still had all its leaves. The leaves were thick and waxy and almost looked fake, and the light brown bark seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. The winding branches danced in the breeze and the baubles tinkled together.

“What is it?” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t just answer with the obvious: “A tree.”

“It’s a magic tree,” she said, providing an ever so slightly better explanation than I was hoping for.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “What’s a magic tree, and why does it have ornaments on it?”

“I decorated it for Christmas,” she said with a sheepish shrug of her shoulders. I nodded. That was a very Aunt Erma thing to do. She carefully touched one of the leaves, and the branches began to rustle a little harder, which was strange, as the wind hadn’t picked up.

“You’ve probably heard a few murmurings around town about how powerful my spices are,” she began slowly.

“I’ve heard a thing or two,” I answered. That was definitely an understatement. Aunt Erma’s magic was one of the most talked about “secrets” around town.

“I’ve always been pretty powerful,” she said. She wasn’t bragging, just stating a fact. “However, I found a way to be even more powerful.” She gestured to the tree with a flourish of her arm. “It came to me in a dream one night. After I saw it, I woke up, got in my car, and somehow, I just knew where to go. I ended up here. This tree contains more magic than I ever even knew existed. You can feel it.”

She grabbed my hand and put it on the trunk of the tree. I felt the tingling of power course through my body.

“How does it work?” I asked. I held my hand there even after she took hers away.

“For some of the spices, I scrape off a little of the bark, and for others, I use the leaves,” she said. “It’s tricky with this much power to get the intention just right. That’s why I keep it simple. You know, promoting feelings of love and happiness. I never do anything big or complicated like the Drakes are trying to do. When magic goes wrong it can get really ugly.” She shuddered a little.

“What do you mean?” I asked. I wanted specifics. I was tired of all of this “things can go bad with magic” stuff. I needed answers now.

“Okay, I’ll tell you a story.” She thought for a minute. “A while back there was an elf who was running a factory. Well, he was part elf, like we’re part fairy,” she added. “If he was full elf he would look like an elf – pointy ears, the whole bit.”

I nodded. I began to worry that this was going to be a long-winded story, and it was cold outside. I looked around for Mitzy. She was still frolicking around the trees. Maybe it was because she was enjoying it. Or maybe she was just trying to stay warm.

“His factory made clothing,” Aunt Erma continued, “and soon greed got the best of him. There are some magical people out there who believe we should be using our magic to exert power over others. He used magic to produce more and more clothing by making his workers move faster and faster until they were collapsing. Then, to make matters worse, the clothes started acting up.”

“The clothes acted up?” I asked, incredulously.

“Yes, sweaters were opening and closing closet doors, socks were banging against the side of dressers. It was a disaster. People everywhere were panicking. There was a huge rush on exorcisms.” Aunt Erma shook her head. “The Magic Enforcement Team was busy for months un-enchanting all of the affected clothing and altering people’s memories, so they thought it was all just a strange dream.”

We filled our pockets with some leaves and a couple twigs from the magic tree.

“Why don’t you bring a bunch back with us?” I asked. “The more magic we have, the better, right?”

“It doesn’t quite work that way.” She carefully plucked one more leaf and held it up to me. “These parts of the tree slowly begin to lose magic once they’ve been harvested. If we harvest too much, they’ll just be tree bits by the time we get around to using them.” She carefully tucked the leaf in her pocket next to the others. “Plus it would be dangerous to have too much magic at the pie shop.” She looked up at the tree. “It’s already dangerous with what we have.”

“Can we go back to the car now?” I was jumping up and down trying to keep my blood from freezing in my veins. I looked down. My feet were still there, but I could no longer feel them. I was trying to process what Aunt Erma told me, but I was pretty sure I’d need to be warm before it would really make sense.

“Yes, yes, let’s go back to the car,” she said, scooting back through the trees. Mitzy eagerly followed us.

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked, a little breathless as I struggled to keep up again.

“I wanted you to know where this was. In case anything happens to me,” she said, matter-of-factly.

I stopped in my tracks. She was about a hundred feet ahead of me before she realized I wasn’t following anymore. She turned back. I started walking again, and she waited for me.

“Is it really that dangerous?” I asked, trying to keep the quiver out of my voice.

“We’ll be fine,” she said firmly. “Plus, we have a vicious guard dog on our side.” Mitzy yipped in agreement. I tried to smile, but I couldn’t shake the anxious feeling threatening to suffocate me.




Chapter 3 (#ua92752a4-d33e-5aa4-9524-bd000b219827)


Dear Elodie,

I think my roommate is trying to control my mind. I catch him staring at me sometimes intensely for long periods of time. When I ask him what he’s doing, he ignores me and continues to stare. Usually I leave the room. Sometimes I even leave the apartment. The strangest part is after I catch him staring at me, I often have the urge to do his laundry or wash his dishes. That has to be coming from him, right? How do I stop him?

Sincerely,

Mind Meld Man

Dear Mind Meld Man,

It sounds like you and your roommate should spend some time apart. Maybe far apart, like in different apartments. Otherwise I’d recommend wearing a tinfoil hat and hoping for the best.

Ask and I’ll Answer,

Elodie

“I’m coming with you.” I could hear Lena’s voice loud and clear even though Aunt Erma’s cell phone was pressed to her ear.

“Now, Lena,” Aunt Erma began in a tone I knew meant she was about to try and talk her out of it.

“I said I’m coming,” she roared. “So help me, Erma, if you don’t get back here right now …”

“All right, we’re on our way,” Aunt Erma relented.

My head was spinning during the drive back to town. My thoughts had begun to blur as the car had warmed up, but there was still a swirling feeling in my stomach. Mitzy settled in my lap and as the snow melted off her fur and soaked through my pants my eyes snapped open. “Does the Morning Pie Crew know about the tree?” I asked.

She shook her head and merged onto the highway.

“You’re the only one I’ve told.”

“Why?”

“It’s safer. People can get strange around that much power. Even the most trustworthy people …” Her voice trailed off, and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

“I thought you guys shared everything.” I couldn’t help but feel a little proud to be in on the secret, but it scared me too.

“Everyone has secrets,” she said. She pressed her lips together and kept her eyes fixed to the road.

I stopped prying. I stared at the road too until we returned to Hocus Hills.

Lena was waiting on the curb in front of her hardware store.

“I’m driving,” she announced once Erma had pulled up and rolled down the window. “We’ll get there faster.” She turned on her heel before Aunt Erma could protest. Aunt Erma rolled her eyes and parked the car.

“I’ll be right back. I have to put Mitzy in the apartment,” she said. I saw her sneak around to the alley with Mitzy in tow. There were a few people peering in the windows of the pie shop. I remembered the “Back in ten minutes” sign with a twinge of guilt. They’d probably forgive me if only they knew we were going to save the world from the power-hungry Drake family. Unfortunately I wouldn’t be able to give them that excuse.

Minutes later I was in the back seat of Lena’s car, clinging to the handle by the window with one hand and gripping the plush blue seat with the other. Speed limits were merely a suggestion in Lena’s world. I swear as we rounded the corners, the car tipped up on two wheels. When I said this out loud, Lena told me to stop being so dramatic.

“You’ll thank me when we get there and get this taken care of quickly,” she said, speeding up as the light in front of us changed from green to yellow.

“Here, eat this.” Aunt Erma handed small squares to me and Lena before popping one into her own mouth.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It will protect you,” Aunt Erma answered.

“From what, a car accident?” I asked.

“The magic.”

I inspected the square before eating it. It was white with little green flecks in it. Was it part of the tree? I glanced at Aunt Erma and she gave me a sharp look, confirming my suspicion. I took a tentative bite. It tasted like salt-water taffy, so I put the rest in my mouth and chewed. I always expected to hear wind chimes when I ate something magical, but to this date that had not happened.

In between muttering wishes for a safe arrival, I asked about the plan.

“What happens if we find the Drakes?”

“We play a game of shake the Drakes,” Lena said in such a deep, sinister voice that despite my nerves I couldn’t help but laugh.

“If we see the Drakes, you, Susie, will call Violet,” Aunt Erma began. “And you, Lena, will detain Stan and Dennis. I will take care of Brenda.”

Why did I always end up with the lamest jobs? While others would go down in history books for saving the world and taking down the bad guys, I would be credited in the footnotes for making a phone call.

We squealed into a parking spot on the street at the edge of town.

“We should walk in so we can sneak up on what’s happening. Get a feel for what we’re getting into,” Aunt Erma suggested.

“Everyone take note of where we parked in case we get separated.” Lena pointed to the street signs on the corner. My stomach flipped. In case we got separated? That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I began to regret my insistence to come along. I glanced at Aunt Erma, and she reached over and squeezed my arm. For a moment I felt as if everything was going to be okay.

I was on high alert. My ears strained to hear something that sounded like evil magic. It was quiet except for the wind that whistled around the buildings. A paper bag blew by like a tumbleweed. By this time of day, the streets should have been bustling. It felt like a scene from a horror movie but even more surreal. I scanned the windows of every building we passed and braced myself in case Brenda’s face appeared. We peeked into a bakery. It should have been full of people buying their bread and doughnuts, but it was empty.

I positioned myself in the middle as we walked shoulder to shoulder towards the center of town and resisted the urge to reach out and grab Aunt Erma’s hand for protection.

“Where is everyone?” I whispered. The layout of the town was similar to Hocus Hills except their town square was a little smaller, and there was a duck pond near the gazebo.

Lena shrugged.

“I don’t know, but it can’t be good,” Aunt Erma said.

I stopped in my tracks. “I hear something,” I said. They both stopped, and I held my breath as we listened. There was a sound coming from the church.

“We need more yarn,” we heard a deep voice yell. The church was a large white wooden building with steps leading up to a set of dark wood double doors. We crept up the steps, and Lena pushed the door open a crack. She peeked inside.

“I think we found everyone,” she said, pushing the door the rest of the way open.

The church was jam-packed with people of all ages. It was a flurry of activity, but I couldn’t figure out what they were doing. Some people were rushing around the room picking up skeins of yarn and moving them from one pew to another. Several people were knitting. Knitting? This seemed like more than just a quirky small-town activity. There was a large red circle that looked like a knitted parachute. People were working on different edges.

“What are they making?” Lena wondered aloud.

“A mitten,” a man with an armload of yarn balls yelled as he rushed past us.

“The world’s largest,” one of the women who was knitting called.

“Are the Drakes here?” The room was packed, but I didn’t see any sign of them.

Aunt Erma shook her head. “I don’t feel their magic. It’s strange that they’re not here though.” She looked a little uneasy, and I took a small step closer to her.

“Why is everyone knitting?” I asked. I almost felt dizzy from the hysteria around us.

“It must be part of the spell,” Aunt Erma said.

“But why?” I asked. It seemed like such a strange activity, and not at all in line with their ultimate goal of more power.

“It’s probably an accident,” Aunt Erma said. “They’re too power hungry to focus on getting the spell right. They’re frenzied as they alter the spices. It’s very hard to get the intention right – takes a lot of finesse. That’s why you should always keep it simple.” She was speaking to me now. I wasn’t sure it was the time for a magic lesson, but I nodded as I looked around at the chaos. I certainly didn’t ever want this to happen.

“How are we going to break the spell?” Lena asked, jumping out of the way of a frantic boy who was chasing the yarn balls he had just dropped as they rolled across the floor.

“Do we need to break it?” I asked, looking around. I mean, what they were doing was crazy, but it didn’t seem to be harmful. Unless they started capturing people inside the giant mitten once they finished knitting it.

“It could be dangerous to leave them like this. They won’t be able to stop until they’ve finished no matter how tired they are, and some of them could actually work themselves to death,” Aunt Erma said. Okay, that sounded bad. She was surveying the scene intently. “Lena, do you have them?”

“I told you you’d need me,” she said as she fished around in her yellow purse. She set it on the floor, and her whole head disappeared as she leaned into it. I was tempted to grab her feet, so she wouldn’t fall in. I didn’t know what exactly was inside there. I had asked her once how the magic purse worked. Was it just like a closet or was there a whole house inside?

“Oh no, dear, I couldn’t tell you that. Your aunt may be ready to divulge all of her secrets, but I like to keep one or two up my sleeve,” she had said.

“Ah, yes, here it is.” Her muffled voice emerged from the purse a second before she did. She triumphantly held up a stack of Erma’s Pies boxes.

“You keep pie in there?” I asked.

“You never know when you’ll need some,” she said. “Impromptu dinner party, afternoon snack, an antidote to stop crazed knitters.”

Aunt Erma took the boxes from Lena and opened the lid. She took a deep breath.

“The triple berry. Yes, this one should work. The unaltered spices will counteract the altered spices they used.” She pulled a bottle out of her pocket. It was clear and plain, not like her other spice bottles, but it had green flakes in it. I recognized them as leaves from the tree but I didn’t know when she’d had a chance to crumble them up and put them in a bottle. She sprinkled a healthy dose on top of all the pies. “A little extra boost,” she explained.

“They’re not all going to eat willingly. We’re going to have to coax them,” Lena said.

Lena did some more digging in her purse and emerged with three forks and a knife. We each took a pie. I watched Aunt Erma approach a young man who was knitting and offer him a bite of pie. He shook his head vehemently, his sandy brown hair flopping across his face. Without missing a beat, Aunt Erma shoved a bite into his mouth. His eyes widened so much I thought they might pop out of his head. He chewed and swallowed, all the while making “Mmmm” noises. Then his face changed. His brow furrowed, and he looked around.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lena said. “You’re just having a strange dream. Go home.”

The man shrugged and shuffled off.

“All right, everyone, understand the plan?” Aunt Erma asked.

Lena and I nodded. Then we all set off, shoving small bites of pie into people’s mouths as we went. Some of the people I encountered eagerly opened their mouths when offered pie – they were probably hungry after all this knitting – while others proved to be a bit more challenging. I dodged a man who tried to jab me with a knitting needle. I snuck behind him and reached around to shove a forkful of pie into his mouth.

“Aren’t they all going to talk and figure out they had the same strange dream?” I asked Lena as I airplaned a bite into a young girl’s mouth. Lena did the same with the girl’s mother. The girl dropped the yarn ball she had been winding up and followed her mother out the door.

“Most of them will have forgotten about this completely by tomorrow. Only a few will have a distant memory of this strange dream,” she said. “It won’t be enough for them to put it together that it actually happened.”

“Some of them might be a little sore tomorrow from all the work,” Aunt Erma said as she ran past, chasing a man with gray hair and thick glasses. The man threw a ball of yarn at Aunt Erma, and she tackled him and shoved the bite of pie into his mouth before he could stop her.

I was bitten at least six times, but we finally cleared the church of all frantic knitters. I leaned against the wall and began planning which pajamas I was going to put on as soon as I got home – the footy pajamas with the turtle print – and what I was going to eat – pizza with three sides of pie.

“We have to get all this out of here.” Aunt Erma motioned to the giant knitted circle that had yet to take shape as the largest mitten in the world.

“Why?” I asked. I didn’t want to let anything keep me from that pizza any longer than necessary.

“It’s a lot harder to convince people it was a dream when they can come to the church and find two tons of yarn and a knitted circle as large as a parachute.

After we’d cleared everything, dispersing some of it to different shops and shoving the rest of it into the back of Lena’s car, we headed back to Hocus Hills.

“What are those?” I asked as we pulled into town, pointing at a light pole plastered with sheets of paper.

“I’m not sure.” Lena slowed the car down. Aunt Erma finished reading first and gasped.

In big bold letters, the signs said, “Tired of hiding? It’s time to work for the Improvement for Magical People. If you’re ready to step out of the shadows, stay tuned for more information from the IMPs.” The flyers were everywhere.

“It was all a circus. They just wanted to get you out of town, so you couldn’t stop them from doing this,” Lena practically yelled.

Aunt Erma let her head fall to the back of the seat. “I don’t know why we didn’t see that before.” She sighed.

A crew led by Violet was already pulling posters down.

“We were so focused on what you guys were doing that we didn’t even see this happen until it was too late,” she said. “They worked fast. It was done in a matter of seconds.”

Aunt Erma’s brow furrowed. “Their magic is getting stronger.”

“I know. The regular spells aren’t working to clean it up, so we’re doing it the non-magic way,” Violet said.

I grabbed a bag and went to work, quickly pulling signs off the light poles and the sides of buildings.

“Hey.” Holly appeared by my side. “I hear you saved the world from crazed knitters.”

“Yup, I’m a regular superhero,” I said. “What’s their deal anyway?” I held up the signs I’d just yanked off the front of the florist shop.

“There are some people who think that non-magical people should be hiding from us since we’re supposedly the more powerful ones,” she said. “Personally, I think they should just chill. Our life here is pretty great, and it could be really dangerous for magic to get out in the world.”

“How long have they been around?”

“I don’t know. A long time, but they haven’t really been active for the last several years. Everyone thought they disbanded and gave up. No one realized Alice was part of this bigger movement until the posters were plastered everywhere,” she said.

“How do we stop them?”

“We keep them from getting too much magic.”

It sounded so easy and so impossible at the same time. They had some of Aunt Erma’s spices, but they didn’t know about the tree. I saw a small group of people by the gazebo looking at one of the fliers and talking animatedly. I inched closer, pretending to be focused on my job of cleaning up.

“I was trying to do a spell to fix my roof last year, and the Magic Enforcers stopped me because the magic was too big.” The sarcasm was clear in his voice.

“It’s Violet. She’s out there squashing magic. Maybe if she’d let people practice more, we wouldn’t have people attacking our town and our neighbors. We’d be equipped to fight them off,” a woman said.

“The IMPs might bring a breath of fresh air. We’ve been stuck living like this for so long, we don’t even consider new ideas anymore,” another woman chimed in.

I quickly scooted away, stuffing another handful of fliers into my almost full bag. I had to go tell Aunt Erma what I’d heard.

I found her heading back toward the pie shop. A crowd had gathered outside, and people began to stir when they saw Aunt Erma approaching. I grabbed her and quickly told her what I’d overheard.

“How are we going to deal with this?” I asked.

“I’ll tell Violet.” Her forehead wrinkled. “This is exactly what they want.”

“The IMPs?” I asked.

She nodded. The clean-up was almost done so I headed to the pie shop to help.

“Come in, everyone,” she said as she shuffled between the grumbling crowd to unlock the front door. “Thanks for your patience. Coffee for everyone, on the house!”

“Someone was looking for you,” Nadine, one of our regulars, whose blonde curly hair was always gathered in a poof on top of her head, said to me. As far as I could tell, her job in town was to spread gossip.

“Oh yeah? Who?” I asked, following her through the door.

“I don’t know. Some guy.”

“Henry?” I asked, even though I figured he would call me if he was looking for me.

“No, some curly-haired guy I haven’t seen before.” She shrugged.

“I guess this mystery man will have to come back if he wants to talk to me.” I went back to the kitchen and stopped in my tracks.

“Mom,” I said.

“You recognize me. I’m so touched,” she said, barely looking up as she sliced a peppermint cream pie. My mom’s brown hair was just a shade lighter than mine. Unlike mine, it was smooth and perfectly styled. Instead of her usual business suit, she wore jeans and a dark green sweater.

My mother had gone back to the city a couple weeks after Aunt Erma had become human again after being a cat. We’d had a wonderful week where our days were full of baking and gossiping – we were a regular holiday special! – then the bickering had begun, and the comments under our breath, and my mother had decided she had to get back to her clients at home. I didn’t blame her. It was a lot of intense family time after a long separation.

“She’ll be back soon,” Aunt Erma had reassured me as I had watched her car drive away with a lump in my throat. I had been enjoying the gossiping and reminiscing. It had been so long since I’d seen my mother laugh that much.

That was less than two weeks ago, and here she was again. I guess I didn’t have anything to worry about.

“Erma called and asked me to come help at the pie shop while you guys went on some sort of mission.” My mother began cutting the next pie more forcefully than was actually necessary.

“We have to go—” I began.

“No,” my mother cut me off, still keeping her eyes on the pie. “I don’t want to know. I know it has to be dangerous. I could tell from Erma’s tone. It’s best if I just worry here instead of knowing the specifics. I’ll just serve pie and worry.”

Ah, my mother the martyr.

“How long are you here for?” I asked.

“I booked a room at the inn for three nights, but we’ll see,” she answered. My mother preferred to stay at the local inn instead of squishing into the apartment with us.

Aunt Erma had already fulfilled the orders of the crowd before sneaking to the back of the kitchen to make a phone call. She faced the corner and spoke in a low voice, probably talking to Violet. The angry grumbles out front had turned into happy chattering as people drank their free cups of coffee.

“I’m taking my cats to see Santa,” someone said.

“My sister is coming to visit with her four children, and they’re all staying in my one-bedroom apartment,” I heard someone else say as I filled an empty mug with more steaming coffee.

“My husband is in a Christmas play, and he wants me to go watch all twelve performances,” another voice chimed in.

I heard a familiar voice say my name. I saw him in the crowd, but it didn’t register because he was a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. I was shocked and speechless for a moment.

“Josh,” I finally managed to croak, reaching out to hug him.

“Hey, Susie.” He was warm and smelled like sawdust. He held me for a second longer after I had let go.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, taking a step back to look at him. His dark curly hair had gotten a little long. He had dark circles under his brown eyes, and his usually rosy cheeks were pale. “Is everything okay?”

“Hal has me working at a big remodel in Mavisville,” he said. Mavisville was another nearby town. “It should take a couple of weeks.”

“That’s great. We’ll definitely have to get together to catch up,” I said.

“Someone gave me one of these.” He held up one of the IMP fliers, and I snatched it out of his hand.

“That’s for a holiday play the town is putting on. They’re very creative here.” I could hear my voice coming out a little too high-pitched as I crumpled the paper and stuffed it into my pocket.

“I need to talk to you,” he said.

At least four people in the store stopped their conversations to openly stare at us.

“Let’s go outside.” I grabbed the sleeve of his coat and led him towards the front door.

“Who is that?” I heard someone whisper loudly as I opened the door.

“Beats me. I’d bet an old boyfriend,” someone else said.

I glared over my shoulder in the general direction of the voices. Josh and I had been co-workers back home. We had grown to be good friends, but it was never anything more than that. Josh was the one I’d call when I was having trouble with a relationship, and I would give him insights on the people he dated whether he asked for it or not. I hadn’t really talked to him since I’d left – just a couple quick text messages that didn’t really say much.

I wrapped my gray sweater more tightly around myself and faced him. I thought longingly of my red coat hanging on the hook at the back of the kitchen. Why had I suggested going outside? The mid-December wind was biting against my skin. Oh yeah, outside was the only place we had a shot at not being eavesdropped on. However, if anyone could lip-read, we were in trouble as all of the customers in the shop were blatantly staring through the window. They practically had their noses pressed against the glass.

I took a couple of steps back toward the flower shop next door so we were at least a little out of sight, though I wasn’t sure there was anywhere completely out of sight in this town …

Josh stared at the ground for a minute.

“Is everything okay?” I asked again. I wanted this to hurry up, so I could get back to the toasty warm kitchen.

“So, you live here now?” he asked, looking up and down the street.

“I think so,” I said with a shrug. “I haven’t really figured it out long term yet. I live here for now, I guess.”

“I’m glad you got to reunite with your aunt,” he said. Josh had heard my sob story more than once about my long-lost Aunt Erma. Usually it was after a bad day at work or a fight with my mom and a few beers.

“Yeah, it’s been nice,” I said. It was silent for a minute, and I was about to tell him I had to go back inside.

“You didn’t even say goodbye to me,” he said suddenly, meeting my eyes for the first time since we’d stepped outside.

“What?”

“We were friends. Maybe more. At least I thought we were.” He said the last part more to himself than to me.

I opened my mouth. Nothing but air came out.

“Was I just imagining it? I kind of thought we were on track to get together. I thought you felt it too. Heck, I’ve loved you since I saw you fix that hole on the side of the Morrow’s house. You were fearless at the top of the ladder while the rest of us were too chicken to climb that high.”

I remembered that job. I had been terrified too, but I had been new at Hal’s Handyman Services, and I’d wanted to show off in front of my new co-workers. Afterwards I’d had to excuse myself to the side of the house where I’d promptly thrown up in a trash can. I thought back to my time with Josh. Had I missed the signs? Sure, we had been good friends. I would even consider him to be one of my best friends. I hadn’t meant to drop him when I came to Hocus Hills, but finding my long-lost aunt, discovering magic was real, and trying to squash an evil plot to take over the world all took up a lot of one’s free time.

“Josh, I …” I paused for a minute. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.” It sounded lame when I said it. He looked at me expectantly. “And I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch better. It’s been so crazy around here.”

I didn’t even know where to begin with his other confessions. There had been a time a few years ago when I’d thought about him that way. I’d even tried to flirt with him and hang out with him more than usual, but shortly after I’d begun to have those feelings, he’d started dating a woman his sister had set him up with. It had been serious for a while, and I’d moved on too. I hadn’t really let myself think about it again since then.

I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Lena.

“I hate to interrupt, but Violet wants to talk to you,” she said with a polite nod towards Josh.

“Now?” I asked.

“I’m Lena.” She stuck her hand out towards Josh.

“Nice to meet you, Lena. I’m Josh.” He shook her hand. “I’m a friend of Susie’s from back home.”

She looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“So, we need to get going, huh?” I said.

“Right, yes,” she said.

“Bye, Josh. I’ll call you later.” I followed Lena inside, trying to ignore the guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach when I looked over my shoulder and saw him watching me go.

The chatter inside the pie shop stopped immediately when I came through the door. No doubt they’d all been talking about me. I ignored them and went back to the kitchen where Violet was waiting. My mother moved out front to help customers, clearly not wanting any part of this conversation.

I told Violet everything I’d overheard by the gazebo and what the people looked like. She thanked me and told me to keep my ears open and let her know if I heard anything else.

After she left, I thought about what Josh had said. Henry and I were having such a wonderful time, but Josh and I went way back. He was comfortable in a way that only someone you’d known a long time could be. He was like a thick warm comforter. But with Henry there was a spark. People always said the spark didn’t last forever – that you needed more in your relationship besides electricity – but the spark sure felt good right now. Maybe it would develop into the comfortable relationship I had with Josh. Maybe it would be even better. Plus, Henry knew about magic. There was a whole part of my new life that I wasn’t sure if I could share with Josh. The people of Hocus Hills were very private about their magic, and I certainly didn’t blame them. You never knew who you could trust, and if word got out that there were magic people in the world, there would be chaos.

***

The crowd at the shop was starting to clear out when Holly came in.

“I felt like I deserved pie after all my hard work doing trash pick-up,” she said, casually leaning against the display case.

“I completely agree. What can I get you?”

“I heard you had some hunky, curly-haired stranger show up today.” She was carefully reading the options on the chalkboard.

“Hunky?” I asked.

“My mother’s words, not mine,” she said.

“How did she see him?”

“Nadine texted her a picture,” she said, as though the answer were obvious.

“What?”

“I forgot you’re still new to this small-town living where everyone knows your business,” she said. “So, what’s the story?”

“Josh is a friend from back home,” I said evasively.

“Two men vying for your love, that must be tough,” she said. I let my chin fall to my chest with a groan.

“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

“That’s your problem,” she said. “You have to stop worrying about their feelings and think about what you want.”

“I want to learn how to windsurf,” I said, thoughtfully tapping my chin.

“Fair enough,” she said, and selected a piece of berry cream.

I quickly asked her about the latest book she was writing, and she was off telling me how she wasn’t sure if she should kill off one of her favorite characters or not. I was off the hook for now, but as she finished her pie we made plans for a girls’ night out on Friday, and I knew there would be more questions then.

***

Later that night I was bundled up in my very large new red knitted blanket watching television when Henry stopped by. I struggled to get out of the cocoon I had wrapped myself in.

“Did everything go okay?” he asked after greeting me with a long hug. I studied my reaction to his hug. Had anything changed after Josh’s confession? I still felt the sizzle in all the right places, I decided as I pulled away.

“I didn’t realize magic was such hard work, but, yes, it went fine,” I said. I was too tired to give him the details, and I was pretty sure he would have heard them already from someone in town. News spread fast. Especially the news that you wanted to keep quiet. Just yesterday I heard Mrs. Lansbury yell across the street asking Mr. Knight about his colonoscopy.

“Anything interesting happen after you saved the world?” Henry’s tone was strange, as if he was trying to stay super casual, but his voice was too high and too tight.

“Oh yeah,” I said, also trying to keep my tone light as though I were just remembering something that I’d actually been thinking about all day. “A friend of mine from back home stopped by.”

“Really?” He tried to sound surprised, but his acting wasn’t that good.

“Yeah, we were co-workers. He came to say hi.” I shrugged in what I hoped was a casual gesture.

“That’s an awful long way to come to say hi,” he said.

“He’s working on a job in Mavisville for a couple of weeks,” I said.

Just then Aunt Erma bustled in. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. Henry, how are you?”

Aunt Erma’s arrival saved me from an awkward conversation and her glance out of the corner of her eye told me she knew exactly what she was doing. Thank goodness for Aunt Erma.

Henry left after a little more small talk, saying he had some work to finish, which I knew meant his “Ask Elodie” advice column. I had asked him once if all the letters were sent in from people in town. He’d said some of them were, but on the days there weren’t any letters he would make them up and then answer them as Elodie. “So, you set up a problem you know you can answer?” I had teased him.

Then I’d begun to quiz him about which ones he had written. “I’m not going to ruin the magic for you by giving away all the secrets,” he’d said.

I felt bad for not telling him more about Josh, but I wanted to be able to process it more myself first. I hadn’t figured out how to present the facts because I hadn’t figured out how I felt about the whole thing.

The truth would come out eventually though.




Chapter 4 (#ua92752a4-d33e-5aa4-9524-bd000b219827)


Dear Elodie,

My sister recently moved back to town. She had lived out of state for the last fifteen years. I’m so excited about her return and want to invite her along to everything I do. My problem is the only thing she wants to do is square dance. She turns down all of my invitations and will only call me once a week to ask me to go square dancing with her. I’ll be honest, I hate square dancing, but I’ll go to be with my sister. I’ve tried telling her I would like her to come along to some of the things I invite her to, but she just dismisses me, saying she’s busy. Am I wrong to be upset by this? Can I quit square dancing without quitting my sister?

Sincerely,

Round Peg in a Square Dancing Hole

Dear Round Peg in a Square Dancing Hole,

It sounds like you’ve given your sister every opportunity to do something other than square dance with you, and you’ve made your feelings known. It’s possible she feels overwhelmed. If she’s been away from family for fifteen years, it could take some adjusting before she’s used to your invitations. Maybe she’s getting just as many invitations from other family members. Also, if you keep doing exactly what she wants, she has no reason to accept your invitations. Maybe you can square dance with her one week and the next week you can tell her you’re busy on square dancing night, but if she’d like to go to dinner with you a different night, that would be wonderful.

Ask and I’ll Answer,

Elodie

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of pancakes. I took a deep breath and stretched out on the sofa. Mitzy, so excited to see movement, catapulted onto my face.

I yelped, thinking for the umpteenth time that I needed to get my own place. I had been looking. Sort of. But part of me wasn’t sure it was worth the effort. Was this just a temporary move or a more permanent one? Life in Hocus Hills had been so crazy from the moment I got here that I hadn’t thought about my life in the city much since I’d arrived. Josh’s arrival reminded me of the simple comforts I had there – an apartment to myself, a job I was good at, and weeks on end without the threat of being attacked by some power-hungry magical person.

“Oh good, you’re up,” Aunt Erma said, peeking her head around the corner from the kitchen.

“Yup, thanks to the fuzzy alarm clock here.” I pointed to Mitzy, who danced around on the floor next to me. She was like that friend that everyone had. The one that thought you were best friends even though you weren’t. She never sensed my hesitation to reciprocate her affections.

“I made chocolate-chip pancakes,” she said, holding up a steaming plate.

“Yum.” I was off the sofa now. I poured myself a cup of coffee. “What’s on the agenda for today? Please tell me we’re not tackling a town who’s set on making the world’s largest pot-holder, are we? I’m still recovering from yesterday.”

“No, nothing like that,” Aunt Erma said. “At least, not that I know of,” she added.

“Look at this.” I pulled up the side of my shirt to show her two small bruises on my ribs. “Someone jabbed me with their knitting needles. I guess I should consider myself lucky that they didn’t skewer me.”

Aunt Erma inspected the bruises closely, her brow furrowed. She ran her finger over them, and I flinched.

“That’s not good,” she said. “They shouldn’t be able to hurt you.”

“What do you mean? Was I supposed to have some sort of magical shield around me? Because I definitely forgot to wear my armor yesterday.” I scooped a couple of pancakes onto my plate and slathered them with butter. “Do you think they make such a thing? Like giant thimbles for your body.”

“They shouldn’t have been able to hurt you because none of the magic from my spices should make people do that,” she said.

“But the Drakes changed them. Can’t they make the magic do whatever they want?”

She shook her head firmly. “Not my magic. Not like this.”

I stared at her, waiting for more of an explanation.

“I’m careful. Even if they redirect the power, they shouldn’t be able to redirect my original intention,” she said.

I nodded slowly, not sure I completely understood. “But aren’t some people inclined to hurt other people? Maybe it was the person, not the magic.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Aunt Erma said, but I could tell she was still concerned.

“Have you heard anything more from Violet?” I asked.

She shook her head. “And today we’re not going to think about it.”

“We’re not?” I asked, my mouth full of chocolate-chip pancakes. I knew if my mother was here, she would remind me that she raised me better than to talk with my mouth full, but the pancakes were just so darn good. They were light and fluffy, and the chocolate chips were melted just right. Aunt Erma had even topped them with whipped cream and shaped them like animals as she used to do when I was a kid. I was eating the ear off a dog when I noticed Mitzy giving me a disapproving glare.

“How does she know I’m eating the dog pancake?” I wondered under my breath.

“Magic,” Aunt Erma said with a wink. “Now today, instead of focusing on the evil plot to take over our beloved town, we are going to decorate for Christmas.”

“Decorate? Even more than we already have?” I asked. I thought about all the tinsel we’d hung and the cardboard Santa cutouts in every corner of the shop downstairs.

“Yes, we’re just getting started,” she said, sitting down across from me with her own stack of pancakes and a cup of coffee. “We have paper snowflakes to make for the snowman-building competition. Last year I cut out three hundred tiny snowflakes and hung them all over the square. It was beautiful, if I do say so myself. I used this glittery paper that was thin, slippery, and a little hard to work with, but it was worth it.”

I tried not to cringe at the thought of cutting out paper snowflakes. It sounded like just the kind of project I would normally try to find an excuse to escape.

“Don’t you need me to run the pie shop? We’ve been pretty busy lately,” I said. I felt proud of my valid excuse to avoid this task.

“Don’t worry, your mother is coming, and we can all take turns serving people as they come in. The Morning Pie Crew is coming too. Flora has a project she thought we’d all enjoy as well. I think it has something to do with folding paper flowers out of book pages. I think to make garlands to hang around trees.” I tried to hold in a groan. “But anyway, they’ll be able to help while they’re here too.”

“Don’t they have their own shops to run?” I asked. Now I was desperate to get out of this. Mr. Barnes was a yoga teacher, so I knew he had some free time depending on his schedule, but Lena ran the hardware store, and Flora owned the bookstore. Didn’t people need to fix things and buy books this time of year?

“All their holiday employees are up to speed and can do without them for a few hours. Plus, today’s going to be quiet. Lots of people are getting ready for the snowman-building contest,” she said. “Which reminds me, we probably need to practice a few more times.”

Wow, this day just kept getting better and better.

***

It turned out my knitting injuries weren’t a good enough excuse to get out of snowflake making. Two hours later I could barely feel my fingers. Lena, Flora, Mr. Barnes, my mother, Aunt Erma, and I all crowded around two of the three tables at the front of the pie shop. Customers were wandering in here and there, and I always made sure I was the first one to leap out of my chair to serve them. In between Aunt Erma explained the importance of the paper snowflakes.

“We’ll use them as part of a protection spell in the town square,” she said.

“Isn’t there some magical way to cut them out?” I asked as I held up yet another disappointing snowflake. Aunt Erma kept assuring me that they were good.

“Every snowflake is supposed to be different, and yours sure are different,” Lena said.

“Thanks,” I said, glaring at her a little.

“You can’t magic away everything,” Aunt Erma said. “We aren’t in a children’s movie.”

“In order for them to have power, we have to cut them out by hand,” Flora explained.

I sighed and folded another piece of paper. A customer walked in and, of course, I was the first one behind the counter. I took my time serving them. So much so that they began drumming their fingers on the counter. The nerve! Hadn’t they ever heard of small-town charm? Where the service was slow, but the people were friendly, and your mailman was also the barber?

“So, tell us about that fella I saw you with,” Lena said during a lull in the conversation.

All eyes turned to me. There was no getting out of this now.

“Oh, you mean Josh?” I asked, buying time, trying to figure out what I was going to tell them.

My mother’s eyebrows shot up. “Josh was here?” She had speculated many times that Josh had feelings for me, and I had repeatedly reassured her that she was imagining things. The smug look on her face grated on me.

“He just came to say hi. He’s working on a job nearby. I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to him,” I said.

We must have said his name too many times and summoned him because all of a sudden he walked through the door.

“Hi, Josh,” I said, trying to keep my tone calm, but it came out a little too high-pitched. The whole table’s eyes went from me to him and back to me again.

He froze for a second when he saw me at a table full of people. He quickly regained his composure.

“Hi, Susie. Hi, Mrs. Daniels,” he said, nodding towards my mom. “Hi, everyone else. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Maybe I can come back later.” He backed towards the door so quickly he almost tripped over his own feet.

“Nonsense,” Lena said pulling up another chair to our already crowded table. “There’s plenty of room here, and we could really use some help cutting these snowflakes. I think Erma wants to fill the entire town with them.”

Aunt Erma rolled her eyes. “Oh, quit being a drama queen, Lena. I’ll share some of these with you.”

“I run a hardware store. I can’t have people getting distracted by all these sparkly snowflakes,” she grumbled, but I saw her perk up a little.

Josh sat down on the corner of the chair, his hands folded tightly in his lap. He looked about as awkward as I felt. After five minutes though, he had Mr. Barnes showing him how to do the eagle pose and had Flora glowing when they discussed their favorite books, and he and Lena got into a heated discussion over which brand of drill was the best. That was how Josh was. He was quiet, but had a way of charming everyone around him easily. I had always admired that skill. I had a way of alienating or making people uncomfortable with my failed jokes. He hadn’t fully won over Aunt Erma yet though. She eyed him skeptically when he asked her about the best method for making pie crust. My mother was already in love with him, so he didn’t have to bother with anything more than a little small talk with her. Sometimes I wondered if my mother would rather have him as a child than me.

I was deep in thought about how I would explain this group date to Henry when I heard Josh say, “I’d love to come. Thank you so much for the invitation.”

“You’d love to come where?” I asked.

“He’s going to celebrate Christmas dinner with us,” Flora said.

“What?” I asked. It came out sounding a little more harsh than I intended. This was going to be my first Christmas with Henry, the last thing I needed was Josh hanging around being Josh-like or trying to find the perfect moment to proclaim his undying love to me. I had been looking forward to a day of organized chaos. Adding Josh to the mix completely messed up my plans.

Just then, Henry himself walked through the door. “Henry!” the room greeted him in chorus. I waved a crooked snowflake at him.

“You’re pretty good at that.” He pointed at my pile.

“Don’t patronize me.” I glared at him. He smiled innocently at me and I couldn’t help but smile back.

He noticed Josh and extended his hand. “I’m Henry.”

Josh stood up and shook it, introducing himself.

“Josh is my friend from back home who I told you about,” I said. I saw Henry’s eyes quickly size up Josh, and I could feel the gaze of the group as they studied every nuance of our reactions. I tried to keep a neutral expression, but all the muscles in my face were straining to react. React how, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want my face to reveal to the room what I was feeling before I had a chance to figure it out myself.

“I should really get going,” Josh said. “Thanks for letting me join in the fun.” He puffed up his chest a little as he said goodbye to Henry. I got up to follow him out because we still needed to talk, but a large group walked through the door clamoring for pie.

“Can you help, Susie?” Aunt Erma asked, likely sensing my hesitation about going after Josh. I sighed and turned back to the front counter to serve pie.

***

“We found the perfect patch of snow,” Aunt Erma announced when she and Mitzy got back from their afternoon walk. “We’ll have to go quick and double back a few times. I saw Nancy Harrington eyeing me as though she knew I’d found fresh snow.”

“Great.” I tried to sound enthusiastic. I was enjoying the warmth of the pie-shop kitchen and in no hurry to bury my hands in the snow and lose feeling in my feet.




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