Page 50 of Magical Melee
“I’d wash the linens. They’re probably full of cobwebs.” Stella said from below.
“Good thinking.” I climbed down the steps.
“That’s the one downside,” she said. “The place doesn’t come with a washer and dryer.”
I chuckled, thinking back to my college years. “I’ll survive. Is there one in Stonewick?”
“Sure is. Far end of town. I’d use it before midnight, though.”
“Why’s that?”
Not that I pictured myself doing laundry in the middle of the night, but the statement piqued my interest.
“Every town has some sketchy characters, and Stonewick is not immune.”
“Duly noted.”
I glanced up at the loft, already picturing myself there. Nothing would be more satisfying than curling up in bed with a good book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.
“It’s yours, Maeve. For as long as you want it.”
I smiled, touching the edge of the table in the dining roomandfeeling the wood beneath my fingertips. “It’s perfect.”
Stella wandered over to a bookshelf and pulled out a binder. She handed me a small stack of papers detailing the duties of a caretaker.
I glanced over the papers, and everything looked straightforward—keeping the windows in good repair, replenishing firewood, dusting, mopping, andtending the garden out back in the warmer months.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Stella said, gesturing to a polished wooden box on a nearby shelf. “Keegan left this for you.”
Curious, I opened the box to find a journal inside. The cover was soft with worn burgundy leather. I opened it up tosee pages filled with notes and sketches. There were drawings of plants, meticulously labeled, and snippets of poetry or reflections on Stonewick’s landscapes. As I flipped through the pages, I felt a strange connection to Keegan, a side of him I’d never seen before.
“Keegan’s not much of a talker,” Stella said with a hint of amusement. “But he’s always been devoted to this place. And to people he cares about. Whenever he has free time, he likes to jot down his observations.”
I closed the journal, my cheeks warming slightly. “Thank you, Stella. I think… I think I’m going to like it here.”
Frank walked over to the fireplace and sat down. A funny noise squeaked from him, but I chose to ignore it.
Stella hugged me before heading toward the door. “I’ll come by every now and then to check in, but I have a feeling you’ll find your own way.” She spun around. “Oh, and when did you want to start at the store?”
“As soon as you’d like.”
“How about tomorrow?” She scanned the bookshelves before returning her gaze to mine. “Make it in the afternoon. Give yourself time to explore your new home.”
“What about Frank?” I asked, pointing at the bulldog, who’d been left in his red motorcycle suit.
“He wanted to hang out with you, and as you’ve seen, once he makes up his mind, there’s nothing any of us can do.”
A bit of excitement tickled through me as I watched her close the door behind her.
When she was gone, I took a deep breath and looked around the cottage, letting it all sink in. This wasn’t just a place to stay. It might be my new way of life.
“You ready for this, Frank?” I glanced at him, and he stared back with his big, drooping chops. “My only house rule is…just try not to gas us out, okay?”
He stretched his paws and laid down, and if I didn’t know better, I’d believe him to be chuckling.
“Off to explore and then to the laundry spot, Frank.”
He’d already fallen asleep when I found a few rags under the kitchen sink.
