Page 50 of Bewitched & Bewildered
My mother cuts my father a withering look.
“For the holidays,” he says. “They want to know if they should bring gifts for her. What should I tell them?”
I shake my head. “You should tell them she’s not coming. We’re divorced. They’re going to find out, eventually.”
“Right, right…” my father mumbles. “I wasn’t sure if you got it figured out.”
“It’s not something we can figure out,” I say. “Our marriage is over. It’s legally binding—or legally unbound, I guess. That’s as official as it gets.”
“We know, honey!” my mother says warmly. “We want you to be happy. All the questions at the solstice celebration…we don’t want them to get to you.”
“I’ll answer them,” I say. “I’m a big boy.”
“Are you sure?” She looks down at her plate. “We can tell them not to bother you with it. Or you can take Vanessa—just for this year.”
“Ma!” I laugh. “No way. That’s not happening. Don’t do that. I’m fine with it, all right? I’m happy.”
But I don’t know how fine it will be when I’m there. Talking about her here—with my parents, with Juniper—it’s already pushing me into the dumps. How will it feel when my nosy aunts are pressing for details?
In the end, I can’t finish the mountain of potatoes on my plate.
Chapter 12
Juniper
Something is goingwrong at Hawthorne Apothecary.
I don’t mean the usual dilemmas. This is more than the ghosts haunting the basement and far more than an empty shop.
The day is actually going well. I’ve had a few customers pop in, and even though some didn’t buy anything, they’re still coming. I’ll take it.
One customer is even a fresh face, which means Laurel’s marketing efforts are working.
No, the business isn’t the problem today. We’re entering the dead of fall, and I’m freezing to death. Every customer who comes in comments on how cold it is, too.
I shuffle to the thermostat. Seventy-one degrees. It should beseventy-onedegrees. Why is it so chilly in here?
With frigid fingers, I fiddle with the thermostat. I have no experience with heating and air conditioning, but it doesn’t take an expert to realize our heat stopped working—on the coldest day of the year. At least it’s not the middle of winter.
The cold makes it hard to work and even harder to wantto stay in the shop. There’s a more significant predicament. My potions require a specific environment—and 55 degrees in a poorly insulated shop is not that.
My initial instinct is to text the bad witches group chat—named that by Laurel, naturally.
Juniper
Bad news (as per usual)
The heating is busted.
Does anyone know what happened?
Rowan
It’s old.
Juniper
Obviously.
