Page 24 of Wickedly Ever After
“Coffee?” Hari poured a cup for himself and took a raspberry tart.
“I suppose,” Ida said, rubbing her temples. She’d love to nurture this headache into an excuse to get out of dinner, but thatsounded more like something Hector would do. She, at least, wouldn’t shirk her responsibility.
Hari paused pouring, then resumed. “A nice cuppa always helps a headache. After that, do you mind if we visit the gardens before I do your hair? I got a letter from Tinbit saying he’s arrived. His witch is all settled in, and he invited me to take an evening walk.”
She smiled. “Well, I didn’t think you’d want me along for that.”
“But I do. I’m…I’m scared.” He glanced down at his feet in a shamefaced way.
“Oh, Hari, it’s in the open, there’re lots of people—”
“No, you don’t understand,” Hari said, shaking his brown curls. “I’m scared I’m not going to like him. I’m terrified it’s going to be like all the others. No spark. No nothing. No feelings at all. Oh, Ida, what if I’m one of those people who never falls in love? What if I’m alone for the rest of my life?” His face blanched. “Worse, what if he sees me and hates me? What if he thinks—” he swallowed hard. “What if he finds out I’m…I’m ugly?”
Ida sighed. “Sweetheart, youaren’tugly. How many times do I need to tell you that?”
“I know—but he’ll have to know about it someday, and—”
“And if he’s the man for you, he will love you, even then. Give it a chance. For all that love at first sight is wonderful, real love happens when the magic wears off and you see the person you married across the table, shriveled and gray, eating prunes for breakfast, and you realize that if you were eighteen, you’d do it all over again because you’re still in love with them. The spark will happen for you if it’s right, but it won’t ever happen if you don’t let it kindle.”
Hari didn’t look convinced.
“I’ll go with you,” she said with a sigh.
He grinned and squeezed her hand. “Thanks.”
***
The gardens attached to the hotel were some of the finest in the kingdom. Her own surpassed them, and truthfully, she’d been far more interested touring the Garden Club grounds to view their rare and magical plants, but she always took pleasure in walking through a well-tended rose trellis. She leaned forward, brought one of the fragrant sprays toward her nose, and inhaled appreciatively.
“We should plant musk roses around the chicken house next year,” she told Hari. “It would help with the smell in high summer.”
“I don’t think any kind of rose would help the smell of chickens.” Hari glanced around again, anxiously looking through the thorn-covered canes, peeping past leaves and heavy, red blossoms.
“Hari…”
“I don’t want him to see me first,” he hissed.
“We’ve been walking the gardens for the past half hour and we’ve seen no one. Do you think he might be doing the same thing, hiding from you? You are a rather secretive people, after all. It’s instinctive.”
Hari rolled his eyes. “It is not.” A robin breezed through the arbor, and Hari ducked.
“It was a bird.”
“Shit,” he muttered, clutching his heart. “Let’s just go back to the hotel. My hands are sweaty, my heart is pounding, and I feel like I’m about to puke. He’s not here anyway.”
“You don’t know that. Tell you what, Hari, let’s split up,” she suggested. “I want to see the goldfish pond. You take the forest trail where you can hide behind ferns if you’d like, and I’ll find you at the end and tell you if I’ve seen any gnomes, yes?”
“Yeah—yeah. That would be better.” Before she could ask him how long he wanted to take, he was gone, running down the arbor path. He hopped headfirst into some azaleas.
“Not instinctive, my ass.” She set both hands in the middle of her back and pushed as she stood. Crouching in the bushes was a pastime for kids, not grumpy old witches.
She left the arbor and moseyed across the open ground, stopping to admire a drift of cosmos that changed color based on the mood of the person passing. She got a lovely pastel shade of robin’s-egg blue with saffron streaks. Which color was lingering irritation about Annabeth’s invite and which was amusement over Hari’s romantic anxiety? The goldfish pond wasn’t far away, but given how Hari had hidden in every bush on the way, it might not be a stretch to assume his suitor might be disguised in the pachysandra. She found no lurking gnome, however, and made her way to the pond. She’d give Hari another half hour in the woods before going to find him.
Voices drifted over the green, coming toward her.
“Hector, I can’t do this. My heart’s doing dragon flights, and I keep forgetting to breathe. Let’s call it and go in, okay? He’s not here. I scared the hell out of him and now he’s gone for good.”
“Calm down. He may be at the pond.”
