„What are you writing?” he asked.
“None of your beeswax.” I stroked him between the ears to show I didn’t mean it. On the other hand, he was already full of himself, so he didn’t need to hear that I was catching up with the notes for my gratitude jar, and that he was the first thing I was grateful for.
Aunt Violet had given me two jars during my last visit. The other one was a swear jar. For each instance, I cussed at something or a certain someone, I had to put in a dollar. I was proud of the fact that I’d be lucky to spring for a pizza evening with my friends, with the money. It had also changed my vocabulary to a standard much more suited to running a library, frequented by impressionable children.
With the two pieces of paper folded up – yes, I was also saying thank you for my friends – I prepared myself mentally for the day.
First though, came breakfast. Cosmo wolfed down his chicken so fast that I worried he might choke. He didn’t. Instead, he joined me at the table and watched me eat toast.
His tail flicked and my paper napkin sailed to the floor.
“Oops.” I bent to pick it up and deposit it in the trash can.
“You didn’t catch it,” he said.
“Obviously.”
“Why?”
“It’s only a paper napkin.”
“So, you didn’t try?”
“No.”
He grumbled. “She’ll be a major pain to lick into shape.”
“She can hear you. She also prefers a little bit of a heads-up. A timetable, maybe, saying 9 to 10, witchcraft 101. 10 to 11, levitation for beginners.” I fluttered my lashes at him.
“Fine.”
He allowed me to clear the table and load the dishwasher. Only the “special” equipment, as he called it, needed to be cleaned by my own hands. It appeared, being a witch included self-reliance and taking care of one’s household with only minimal technical support. Since I didn’t foresee the money or a cleaner or a gardener in my near future, I didn’t mind.
“What now?” I asked.
“Catch.” In quick succession, he swiped an apple, a magazine, and a fork off the worktop.
I did my best to stop them. The magazine eluded me, but I caught the apple and the fork. Too bad it was because I’d slipped and landed on my bottom, so the two objects landed in my lap.
Cosmo preened himself. “Interesting.”
I pushed myself off the floor. “Thank you for your concern.”
“You can’t be hurt. Otherwise, we have a tube with witch hazel in Violet’s bathroom cabinet.”
His paw twitched as he stared at a tissue box.
“Stop,” I said. “Unless you want me to be too sore to reopen the lending library this afternoon.”
“We need to get folks through the door.”
“We do.” Aided by the bespelled cookies, I hoped to listen to a decent amount of gossip.
I was right. Only it was not what Cosmo and I wanted to hear.
Chapter seventeen
It started out well enough. I’d stowed away the cookie jars under the counter with the computer and the card machine. The treats we’d augmented with Aunt Violet’s magical spice mix were irresistible, so Cosmo would point out to me who, if any, should receive them.
