Page 18 of Midlife Witch Unexpected

"It didn't use to be a cliff. It happened a hundred years ago. Before it was more of a slope," Bianca said. "But there was a landslide and a bunch of the hill fell away and made the cliff, but none of the graves did. The town grew larger and needed to use that area, so they cleared the landslide and kept the cliff. Now there's a road at the base of the cliff."

“Have you ever been up there?” I asked.

“To the cemetery?” Bianca’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “Of course not. It’s private property.”

Good point.

I owned the dead people.

Chapter 11

Standing in the kitchen later that night, I felt a bit of a thrill as I went to the different jars of teas that had clearly made up my aunt’s collection. I had always been drawn to herbs and spices in my cooking, but it had only been recently with the advent of specialty tea shops I had suddenly started enjoying the different variety of blends one could get with different leaves. I fantasized about one day doing a tea leaf tour of the tropics, maybe all the way down to Indonesia. It sounded so exotic and when I drank the teas I often thought about faraway places.

The couple of drinks at the Waldorf had worn off and a dull sense of tiredness permeated my bones as I swept my hand over the teas. I didn't mind, because my intention was to go to sleep and start cleaning fresh in the morning. I was definitely going to get rid of the witchy stuff in the middle of the living room. It was impossible to be from L.A. and not have seen a little bit of Wiccan stuff in a couple of houses; large crystals in the corners of living rooms and dream catchers hanging in bedrooms. But this was a straight-up altar sitting in the middle of my aunt's living room. The copper bowl had stuff burned in it and was surrounded by a circle of chairs. That's not normal.

Tomorrow that shit has got to go. Right now, I needed a tea.

Something sparked in my hand.

Shit.

No way.

I stared at my hand. I had been mindlessly sweeping it over the teas thinking about how I was going to clean up altar space in the living room. Not only did my hand get warm but it let out a spark of light. I twisted my hand to look at my palm. It was barely glowing with the remnants of a purple light.

“Oh, my fucking God,” I murmured.

Maybe the drink was more potent than I realized. Maybe they mixed in some of that stuff. Not moonshine. What was that green stuff? Absinthe? Bianca was saying they used to make absinthe here at one time. It causes hallucinations. Maybe they still secretly serve it. Maybe she had some put in the whiskey sours. I didn’t know what absinthe tasted like, but I was pretty sure you could hide anything in the flavor of a whiskey sour.

The kettle boiled, startling me. I turned around and quickly shut it off, my head throbbing with the sound of the whistle. I poured hot water over the tea leaves in a large mug and stare down at the cup. It said Witches’ Brew on the side. I shook my head. These people were really into it and if they were mixing absinthe into their drinks, well, no wonder they thought they were witches.

Crazy.

I wondered how the kids were involved. It should probably be reported. I mean, the kids were over age, but still…it’s not right if their parents are making them do witchcraft ceremonies.

"None of this is really any of my business," I murmured. "Just stay focused on yourself."

It felt good hearing the words out loud. I needed to remember to take care of myself and to keep my headspace clear. I inhaled the rich scent of jasmine green tea that filled my cup and wafted steam into the air.

I shut the doors to the parlor, so I didn’t have to look at the altar and just pretended it wasn’t there as I went up the stairs.

The empty room next to it was odd. I mean, it wasn’t completely empty; there was a divan there and a high back red velvet chair like the one in the library.

I stopped on the stairs and looked back at the empty room. Maybe it wasn't empty before. Maybe there used to be stuff in it but for some reason, the renters had moved it. I needed to make sure they hadn't actually removed anything.

I climbed the tower stairs and up to the master bedroom with its large canopy bed. All the room lacked were servants to come and dress you. Even though the house wasn’t massive, it had the stately air of a manor. Happiness flooded through me as I rested on the bed.

"So, this is what absinthe feels like," I said as I stared at the canopy. My whole body was tingling and the room was undulating.

And I don’t know if it was a trick of the light or a trick of the absinthe, but as I closed my eyes and faded off to sleep, I could’ve sworn I saw words appear in a beautiful hand script on the canopy of the bed above me.

Chapter 12

I was sitting on the back porch having a cup of lemongrass ginger tea, inhaling the citrus tang, and watching Branson shirtless and sweating in the garden, clearing out some of the weeds and preparing to lay the ground for bulbs next spring.

“I really need to find something else to do,” I said to Bianca, who had just popped over for a few minutes to drop off some pastries she had made. “It’s not my fault though, is it?” I asked, seeking permission from my companion to be a gawking idiot.

---