Page 77 of Brewing Up a Bad Boy

The animosity he’d felt toward Merle had quickly dissipated over the summer. The other man was wicked smart and very good at darts...as if those are the only things that matter, he said to himself. But they meant something. Somehow, he’d started to bond with Poppy’s little band of friends. A part of him almost believed they were his friends as well. But their loyalty would always be to Poppy...rightly so.

Which ratcheted up the pressure he felt not to fuck things up. Poppy was a big part of why he’d started to feel like this place was home. This family that was nothing like any other family he’d ever experienced.

“Hey, Ali. Poppy said I should come and try the kombucha,” Merle said from the doorway of the shed. “I’m more a Powerade and Pop-Tart kind of guy.”

“That stuff is horrible for you,” he said. “Your parents must hate that. They pretty much exude healthy vibes.”

“They do. I think that’s why I love it,” he said, taking the bottle that Ali offered him.

“Where’s Poppy?”

“Liberty’s nan’s birthday is tomorrow. When we were over there, we saw she was out of the tea Poppy made for her. It really helps her keep calm, and she loves it,” Merle said. “Poppy went to grab some.”

Ali had learned that Liberty’s nan had Alzheimer’s and that Poppy’s tea was one of the things that seemed to help keep her head clear. Nothing could cure Nan, but the tea Poppy brewed made her feel better. The WiCKed Sisters imbued everything they did with magic.

He hadn’t realized that there was real-world magic. He’d always just pictured witches from Roald Dahl’s book, the kind that turned kids into mice.

But Poppy and her friends worked together to weave a spell around the people they met. One that improved their lives. With caring and love and attention. Just being seen was the most powerful magic he’d encountered...well, that and Poppy’s affection. Which was probably why he’d been hesitating to tell her he loved her.

“Also, can I get a pony keg of your summer solstice brew? I’m running D&D tomorrow night,” Merle asked as he and Ali walked back up to Poppy’s house.

“Yeah, I should be able to swing that,” he said. Talking to Merle about beer alleviated his fears. He was getting too in his head, which had never been a good place for him to be.

Poppy met them at the back door with a smile and a small jar of loose blended tea that she gave to Merle. “I made a double batch.”

“Thanks,” he said, then left.

“Where were we?” Poppy said, grabbing Ali’s hand and pulling him into the living room.

The seasonal blue moon in August was the third full moon of the astrological season, so this one felt special. Liberty had led them all in filling a small, stoppered bottle with moon water, small blue crystals and deep blue dye. Sera had supplied some of the old paper she used in her journals, and they all were sitting together at the top of Hanging Hill, drinking rosé as they wrote their intentions.

They were all using blue India ink and dip pens, which Poppy freely admitted was her least favorite way of writing. Dip pens were tricky, and more times than not, she ended up with ink on everything.

But tonight, that didn’t matter; the rosé was flowing, and they were listening to Train’s “Hey, Soul Sister,” which they all agreed they’d loved when they were ten. Sera’s handwriting looked the best, but Poppy didn’t read her intention. It was personal, between Sera and the universe.

For herself, she wasn’t sure what to put down. Alistair had been dominating every moon ritual since he’d first reached out to ask her to be fake married. But that had changed. And she had to come up with an intention, not a question.

What did she intend to do?

I intend to be happy and content with my relationship with Ali and to continue to grow and thrive in the shop and as a tea-blending goddess.

That worked. The tiny chains that remained wrapped around her heart loosened, and Poppy put her hands behind her, tipping her head up to the sky, imagining them falling away.

It was time.

She’d been holding on to the past no matter how many times she reassured herself she was done with it. She wasn’t. It was still there keeping her safe, because as long as fear dominated her emotions, she wouldn’t be hurt again.

The past few weeks with Ali had made her realize she couldn’t be happy either. That fear was tempering everything else, making it harder and harder to just be present.

“Done?” Liberty asked.

“Yes,” Poppy and Sera said at the same time.

“Now we are going to bathe in the light of the blue moon. Let it wash over you and know that extraordinary things are coming your way,” Liberty said. She followed that with some words that Poppy knew came from a book she sold in her part of the shop.

They turned off Train and joined hands. Chanting about no longer being alone, welcoming the unusual events that would soon be upon them. They opened the dreams kept deep in their hearts. Miracles and wonder, those were what this blue moon offered her.

It was time to shed the last of that girl who kept punishing herself for her lack of maturity and falling for a bad boy who wasn’t a good man. With the wisdom of the past and really hard long years, Poppy now understood that girl had done the best she could.

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