Page 14 of Bewitched & Bewildered
I know the Hawthornes used to run one, but…
It shut down, as far as I know. I didn’t expect the sisters to take my shop as a slight, but I should have known better. Juniper and I have always had bad blood, even if it’s mostly one-sided.
“Why did you open up so close to our shop?” She turns away from me and peers at the shelves.
“It’s not like Starbrook has a lot of real estate options.”
I spent weeks finding a spot, and when I made an offer on this place, it felt like my lucky day. It used to be the pharmacy, and after a couple of weeks of putting in elbow grease, it’s the perfect cozy spot for me to live and work.
I’m proud of the shop. The walls are stocked with dried herbs, I’m offering charmed items I spelled myself, and my potion brewer is talented. The crystal collection? Out of this world. I have everything a witch may need.
Juniper should be happy. Hell, I’m pretty close to being happy myself.
My life is different now. I went from managing a media company in Boston to… well, this. And this is what the town needs. I have high hopes for my little apothecary.
Unlike the gig in Boston, I care about this. It doesn’t feel like my business degree is going to waste.
“I know you did this on purpose.” She turns her sharp glare back on me.
“Why do you think that?” I put my hands on my hips, fighting off a smile.
“You’ve always had an issue with me.”
“I really don’t have an issue with you. You’re projecting.”
If we have issues, it goes both ways. Juniper is aware of this, but unsurprisingly, she is trying to rewrite history.
“I’m not?—”
“I heard Hawthorne apothecary isn’t in business anymore. People need supplies, Juni. You should understand that.”
Her expression drops, her glare flattering. Her fingers twitch at her sides, clenching and unfurling. The old apothecary has many memories for her. It does for all of us. I can be empathetic, but…
This is a good thing. Her mom can retire like she wants to, and the witches can still get their supplies.
Her glower is back more quickly than I would like. “We’re taking a temporary hiatus.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. We were always planning on coming back.”
“I welcome it,” I say. “Competition is healthy. You should know that if you’re planning on running a business. Neither of us needs to have a monopoly on selling herbs.”
“If you knew anything about this, you would know it’s more than herbs.”
“I get that. Believe me, I do.”
The old Hawthorne shop means a lot to me, too. It speaks of weekends spent shopping with my father, of stocking up on rosemary and clear quartz together. It reminds me of bickering with Juniper while our parents chatted by the register. Hell, I got my first tarot reading from her mother.
She charged me five bucks and helped me avoid flunking calculus. Mrs. Hawthorne is a wise woman, and I respect her family.
“Why don’t you take a moment and look around?” I gesture as I come out from behind the counter, standing close to Juniper.
She has to be a foot shorter than me. I remember when she was the taller one, but after my high school growth spurt, that changed—and I kept growing well into college.
Now, she has to tilt her chin to keep fixing me with her death glare.
“I don’t want anything you’re selling,” she says.
