Page 13 of The Neighborhood Witch

“Umm, yeah. No. Umm,” Hugo paused. “I’m sorry. I meant—I didn’t see anyone paint it.”

“My house painting methods are very… efficient.”

“Very,” Hugo replied. “I like it. It’s an excellent color.”

“Good,” Alice gleefully replied. “I was worried it would scare some people away. But you have to be who you are, right? Even if it makes people uncomfortable.”

“Right, although there are a few neighbors who might complain. One in particular.”

Alice chuckled. “I told you it would work.”

Max trotted over to Hugo, using her nose to nudge his left hand into position around her ears for scratching. She sat down, her tail brushing aside any fallen leaves. The dog glared at Hugo with her manipulative, brown puppy-dog eyes, smiling, tail wagging, waiting for him to scratch her. Hugo immediately grabbed Max’s pink canvas collar, not wanting her to escape again.

“Thank you,” Hugo said, with a hint of relief in his voice.

“You’re welcome. Give her some slack; she’s still young. Just needs a little training,” Alice replied with a wink toward Max. “Does she aggravate Mrs. Dodds, or is she the favorite parent?”

“Umm…” Hugo paused. He pinched his ring. The black onyx band was cold to the touch. “There is no Mrs. Dodds. Not anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I saw the ring and assumed—”

“That’s okay. She—” Hugo hesitated. “She passed a few months ago.”

“Oh!” Alice replied with a horrified expression. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Hugo reassured Alice. “I’m fine, by the way.”

“Fine?”

“That’s the first thing someone always asks me.How I’m doing,” Hugo explained sarcastically. “Fine. That’s always my default answer. Just…. fine.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” Alice replied. Hugo raised an eyebrow. “Losing someone is… Any loss is tough. You’re never fine. You never will be.”

“Right,” Hugo enthusiastically replied. “Everyone wants me to act like it’s no big deal—”

“But you can’t,” Alice finished his thought.

“Exactly!” A sense of relief rushed over Hugo.

“It’s as if the world wants you to move on. To forget. Like it never happened.”

“But you can’t. You can’t erase everything like it never happened. Likeoh well. That’s over.What’s next?”

“Well, Hugo Dodds, I’ll make you this promise. I’ll never ask you how you’re doing. Deal?” Alice spit in her hand and extended it again over the fence.

Hugo stepped back; he furrowed his brow as he focused on the outstretched hand.

“A deal this important requires more than a pinky swear,” Alice explained. “The order goes: Pinky Swear, Spit Swear, and then Blood Oath. I can go get my ritual tools, and we can agree to this in blood if you prefer, but I thought it would be less messy this way.”

Hugo’s face went vacant, unsure how to reply.

“I’m joking, by the way.” Alice giggled.

Hugo laughed. He spit into his hand and shook hers. “I’ll take that deal.”

“A deal sealed with a kiss,” she exclaimed.

“Excuse me?” Hugo yanked his hand away.

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