Page 23 of The Neighborhood Ghost

“Sorry,” her boyfriend said. “Our fault.”

Alice took a deep breath. She thought about scolding him. He walked on the inside, closer to the building. His girlfriend was closer to the street, and the one who almost collided with her. Hugo would have never put Alice in harm’s way. He would walk on the outside, closest to the street, so he took the brunt of any possible collision, not her.

Alice exhaled. “It’s okay,” Alice said with a half-hearted smile. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” the woman responded before the couple went about their day.

Alice’s smile disappeared. She couldn’t do it. She wanted to, but she held her anger inside. They didn’t deserve to bear her pain. Not in this joyous season. They were innocent bystanders to her suffering. Alice glanced at the door once more before continuing down the sidewalk.

Alice passed a few more shops before stopping in front of Madame Sophia’s Mystical Apothecary. Hugo had told her of the shop before his untimely passing. Alice recalled his playful jab.You’ll spend a fortune in there. She could picture his sly smile in her mind. His scandalous wink. They both knew there was a slight hint of truth behind it. Alice only gave a knowing smile and wink in return.

Alice wanted to stop in earlier, but recent events had put a hold on those plans. Alice was certain it was like any other new age shop she had visited. Manufactured plastic statues, though artificial, evoked a deceptive aura of arcane powers. Fool’s gold worth of “magical” items.

Still, shops like this were an excellent place to gather her witchy supplies of incense and herbs. She liked to purchase the pretty stones as well. If there were any place in Newbury Grove where she would be welcomed, and no one would question her appearance, it would be a shop like this.

Alice opened the door and entered the shop.

The overwhelming sensation of sage and other assorted incenses welcomed Alice like an old friend. A maximalist’s dream come true. A space filled with shelves and shelves of wondrous items—candles, statues, stones, books, knickknacks. It was as if her living room was transported into a storefront. Alice exhaled and relaxed her shoulders. She raised her head and allowed the sensations to comfort her like the hug she was seeking. Alice smiled.

He was right. I would have bought everything.

The store was busy with shoppers, curious about the various statues and candles as they picked them up. Some made snide comments. Others smelled the candles and incense sticks. They were clearly a huge seller, as most gathered a candle or two and took them to the front counter. Candles for love or luck, or in a few cases, revenge. Alice chuckled. Others shopped for novelties. She was here to shop for the necessities.

Alice grabbed a cloth and metal basket resting near the front entrance. She worked her way through the maze of shelves with precision, never allowing herself to be distracted . . . although her eyes did wander. She gathered her needed supplies to help purify her house and avoid a repeat of the ghastly wraith she had conjured the last time she attempted to contact Hugo.

Alice approached a carousel of hanging incense bags, filled with ten sticks resembling sparklers more than anything magical. She pulled off a few bags as she spun it around. Rosemary to ward off evil spirits. Frankincense for protection and clarity. Myrrh for purification. Vetiver for love and to banish evil. She selected a few more only because she loved the smell of them. She also plucked up a sage smudge stick from a nearby basket.

Unable to control her buying impulses, Alice also gathered a few candles and stones, not for any reason other than she thought they were pretty.

She gave a thought to Hugo.He was right.

Alice took her place in line and waited patiently until her turn to pay. The various customers chatted up the staff as they made their purchases and walked out. When it was her turn, Alice placed the basket carefully on the glass counter. She gave yet another half-hearted smile to the cashier, hoping to express, ‘I acknowledge you, but please don’t talk to me.’

The cashier—a woman in her mid-twenties with raven-colored hair—wore matching dark clothes similar to any piece in Alice’s wardrobe. She gave a slight nod in what Alice thought was recognition of her request and meant, ‘I’ll leave you alone.’

Alice bowed her head and focused on the items in the basket.

“I’ll take this one,” an older woman’s voice said from behind the counter. “How’s your Saturday going?”

Alice closed her eyes and cringed. She balled her left hand into a fist before releasing it.

“I’m fine. Just fine,” Alice replied.

We don’t do fine. Hugo and Alice both said those words to each other once. They both knew it was a lie, and they had made a promise to never tell each other they were fine.

“You don’t seem like a woman who’s fine,” the woman said.

“Excuse me?” Alice questioned.

She focused on the woman standing behind the counter. She had wild gray hair tucked beneath a dark green scarf. She wore a billowing dress filled with dark greens and stripes of dark red, perfect for the festive season. Alice recognized her face, even though she hadn’t seen it since the night of the fall festival a year ago. Madame Sophia.

“What I meant was you appear to be burdened by a troubled mind. I’m very empathetic. I can tell. Your emotions are very . . . sporadic,” Madame Sophia replied.

Alice shrugged and focused off to her side. “You’re not wrong.”

“I know what would help you,” Madame Sophia said. “A reading.”

“You don’t have to—” Alice began.

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