Stella straightened her apron, cleared her throat, and in the calmest, most ordinary voice I’ve ever heard her use, said, “Why yes, dear! Just a little kitchen mishap. Your mom was testing a new recipe. Slight over-sizzle. Totally normal. No sentient sausage uprising at all.”
I glared at her.
She winked back.
Then, softly, she leaned in and murmured, “You’re going to have to tell them eventually, Maeve.”
I knew she was right.
But that day wasn’t today.
“Can you conjure up something snacky and normal?” I whispered to Stella as I tried not to breathe in the sausage-scented smoke still curling from the skillet. “And by normal, I mean no spellwork that giggles, glows, or bursts into interpretive dance?”
Stella gave me a side-eye as she plucked her enchanted parsley from the counter. “Please. I’m a professional.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what you said before you fed me magical tea.”
“That was one time. And it wasbeautiful,” she muttered as she swept the failed sausages into a magical tea towel with a flick of her fingers. “Go. I’ll make something they won’t question.”
I didn’t wait for clarification. I needed out of the kitchen before the smell of magical meat betrayal reached the living room.
Celeste and Skye were curled up on opposite ends of the sofa when I slipped back in, both of them now wearing fuzzy throws I didn’t remember leaving out, but the cottage had its ways.The fire was crackling, the light through the window golden and gentle, and for a moment, it almost felt like the past hadn’t unraveled and reraveled into something strange and stitched with magic.
I sat down between them and tucked myself into Celeste’s side, letting my daughter’s head fall gently against my shoulder like she was still little and couldn’t fall asleep unless she was pressed right up against me.
“This place is something else,” she murmured. “The couch literallysighs.Like a happy sigh.”
“It does,” I said, smiling. “Only when it likes you.”
She lifted her head. “Wait, what?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, running a hand over her hair. “Ignore me.”
She gave me a suspicious look but let it go. “So, I was telling Skye about the ski trip.”
“Oh no,” I said. “That story again?”
“Absolutely that story again,” Celeste said, grinning. “She hasn’t heard the full version.”
Skye was already laughing, one hand on her stomach. “All I caught was that your dad barked at your boyfriend.”
“Oh, he didn’t just bark,” Celeste said. “Hegrowled.Full teeth-baring, guttural, neck-scrunched-up-like-a-wolf growl. He snapped and snarled at his temp girlfriend, too. It was quite the ending to our holiday ski trip.”
Skye wheezed. “Oh my God.”
“Temp?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah. That’s what I call them all. They’re here one day and gone the next. It’s like he gets them from an agency or something.”
My brow arched. “Interesting.”
“Anyway, it wasincredible,” Celeste said, collapsing back into the cushions. “I’m honestly surprised Darren didn’t slide down the mountain just to escape.”
“Did he ever recover?” I asked.
Celeste smirked. “Eventually. But he still flinches when he hears big dogs barking. We’re working through it.”
“I shouldn’t find that so funny,” I said, but I couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped.
