Page 75 of Best Hex Ever
“I’m just burning some sage by the phone. Maybe it’ll do something,” her mother said gravely.
“I’ll be careful, Mama. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Oh, Dina, all I do is worry. That’s my job as your mother.”
—
As Dina arrived at Serendipity Café that morning there were already a few of her regulars waiting for the shop to open. As well as catering to the harried commuter, Dina had a select few retired regulars who liked to sit with the paper or do their crosswords with a muffin.
“You’re early today, George!” Dina winked at one of her regulars as she undid the shutters and flicked open the magical wards that kept the café safe from burglaries and general vandalism.
“It’s the cold, I can feel it in my bones today, Dina. I need some of that turmeric drink you made me last week.”
“Let’s get you inside where it’s warm then, shall we?”
Dina spoke a silent spell as she entered the café, and the lights blinked on and the boiler sparked to life, sending heat rattling into the old iron radiators behind the sofas. In ten minutes the whole café would be toasty and warm, smelling like freshly ground coffee. There was nowhere else Dina would ratherbe.
George settled himself at his usual table overlooking the curved windowpane.
“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right with you!” she called, as she slipped out of her coat and donned her quite frankly adorable Serendipity Café apron. She didn’t need to wear an apron, and certainly the frills weren’t necessary, but she felt damned cute in it, and on the colder days it kept her warmer.
Dina spent the next thirty minutes serving a slew of early-morning customers before the shop had even technically opened for the day. She busied herself trying to dust chocolate powder onto cappuccinos in various shapes.
When Robin waltzed in ten minutes early for their shift, at a reasonable seven forty-five, they looked at the filled seats with alarm.
“Did we change our opening hours?” they asked, slipping their own apron on and pushing their hair out of their eyes.
“Nope, but there’s a snowstorm coming,” Dina replied absently, her mind concentrating on the extravagant and entirely unnecessary latte art she was attempting. It was meant to look like a snowflake but it was more like a misshapen spider web. She frowned, flicking her wrist, and the frothed milk moved around until it looked like a perfect symmetrical snowflake.
“A snowstorm? Oh, well, that explains it then,” Robin said dryly.
“People sense these things, even if they don’t always realize it. Also, it’s bloody cold,” Dina replied.
Together, they knuckled down as the rush-hour crowd entered the café.
Dina prided herself on the fact that even the most harried-looking commuters seemed to breathe a little slower as they entered Serendipity, the creases of their frowns flattening out, their shoulders sagging in relief.
Sure, a cup of coffee couldn’t make your whole day better, but a good coffee, a really great one, could make all the difference to how a person approached the rest of their day. And in Dina’s experience, state of mind always mattered more than actual events.
The rush began to slow down just after nine. Most morning coffee drinkers would be sitting at their desks by now, sipping their drinks and eating one of Dina’s delicious cinnamon buns, feeling a little lighter as they scanned through their morning emails. Exhilarated yet cozy. As if they’d just slipped into a pair of warm socks.
Dina tidied the tables, lighting an amber candle on each one with a twirl of her finger as she went past. There were only a couple of people sitting in the café now and they were too enthralled by their books and papers to notice her performing a quick sweep of cleaning magic on their tables as she passedby.
The hum of the coffee grinder normally soothed Dina’s inner monologue, but not today. The call with her mum had left her rattled. Dina didn’t like the way the image of the dream wall had settled into her bones, nor the way it felt simultaneously surreal and yet familiar. Like she might have dreamed it herself but forgotten it upon waking.
She tried to shake herself out of it by scrubbing the dishesextra clean, but that didn’t work. She wished Scott were here already, so she could talk about it with him. Maybe he’d understand. He’d certainly been opening up more to the way her magic worked the past few weeks. An idea popped into her head then: She’d make him a blend of tea. That felt like an acceptable “I need to vent about my feelings but also I think I love you a whole load and my love language is gift-giving” kind of present.
“Robin, can you take over from me out here?” Dina called. A few minutes later the coffee grinder slowed to a quiet hum and Robin emerged from the kitchen with two full bags of deliciously scented ground coffee, which they would sell over the counter.
“You know, I don’t even need to wear perfume anymore. People always tell me I smell amazing.” They laughed, setting the bags down on the counter. “Are you heading back to bake?”
“No, I think I’ll make some tea blends.” Dina smiled and headed into the kitchen.
There was some bread baking in the oven, and a row of cupcakes cooling on the counter, which she’d frost in an hour or so. The whole room smelled like a hug.
Sensing a buzz from her phone, Dina pulled it out and opened her group chat with Immy and Rosemary that they’d named “The Weird Sisters.” It was a flurry of photos from Rosemary that she’d taken at her local haunted house and Christmas tree fair.
Immy had responded with:Did they have a chainsaw room with a murderous Santa like last year?
