Walt shakes his head. “Nobody thought badly about you showing emotion. And if they did? That says a lot about them. Grief dulls over time but never fully goes away. No one would ever confuse you with a robot, as vivacious as you are. They certainly don’t expect you to act like one now.”
Acton’s willowy voice chimes in, “Take solace in knowing that their magick, fed into the ward for so many decades, made them your protectors that night. It is their way to take care of now that they are gone.” His downy soft moss-covered hand settles gently over mine. Some of the vines that grow along his skin curl lovingly around my fingers.
I brush wetness from my eyes with my other hand. “You’re right, I don’t know why I’m beating myself up. With Norrell here… Ashes, he saw everything.” A wry laugh escapes me. “Mother Earth, I need to catch a break”
Walt looks livid. “He has no right to come back here and hassle you now. He should be ashamed of himself. When you were together, you barely asked anything of him. Hell, you even offered to go with him to that frozen wasteland and stay there as long as he wanted,” he argues.
“I wanted to meet his family and see where he lived.” I shrug. “Maybe he never took me there on purpose so he could plan his escape from me. What could I do, drive a snowmobile around and hope I run into another yeti to give me directions?”
“Exactly,” Walt agrees, his pointer finger stabbing the table in emphasis. “So instead of appreciating all the generosity andcompassion you showed him, he saved his worst traits for you. But for me? Acton? Any random person off the street? He’d show up for us in a heartbeat and give his full attention and energy. I remember how it affected you. Your parents never really caught on to that. They loved him like a son so maybe they had blinders on. Maybe we should be glad about that, at least. It would have broken their hearts had they known he was hurting you long before he left.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I huff. “That’s what I get for falling for the mysterious type. Turns out I barely knew him. Intentional or not, he’d commit a huge chunk of time to someone else on almost every special occasion and holiday. There was never an emergency, but he always treated it like it was more important than our time together. I don’t think he really wanted to be my mate anyway. It makes sense he didn’t try very hard.” I try to shrug away the heartache.
“What is going on at the house? I know you didn’t want to make waves with that group, but someone should have stepped in and made him switch,” he asserts, sounding upset on my behalf.
With my elbows on the table, I put my head in my hands and groan. “He was trying to be helpful last night. I guess I’m finally getting that infamous special treatment now that I’m not his mate. Regardless, I don’t trust it. He tried to talk to me, but I shut him down. Hopefully he’ll be gone in a week or so and life can return to relative normalcy.”
Our server returns with our meals, and we delight in how delicious everything looks. My crispy chicken salad is hearty, with juicy chicken that’s indeed quite crispy. I needed something a little healthier to balance out the two croissants I ate earlier. Walt seems to be enjoying his vegetarian curry dish. Acton delicately sips from a bowl of flower nectar with colorful petalsfloating on the surface. Walt leans into him and uses his thumb to rub a stray drop off his mossy lips.
“Thank you, my bluebell,” Acton trills. Walt’s striking blue eyes sparkle at the endearment. Acton closes the distance between them and presses a kiss to his lips. They share a loving look before returning their attention to me.
“Ada, our experience partaking in this meal together would be incomplete without an offer to share. Mayhap you could dip your chicken in it?” Acton asks, holding out the bowl to me and giving me his version of puppy eyes.
I bark a loud laugh in surprise. Acton hasn’t made a plant food joke in a while. It sends a bubble of warmth through me, reminding me of happier times.
“Almost as good as honey mustard sauce, I imagine,” I quip. Walt squeezes his mate’s shoulder affectionately.
After a few more bites of food, Walt’s face grows serious again. “Did he bother you during the interview?”
“No, other than bringing me these.” I gesture toward the bag. “Something puzzled me, though. When I described the fae, I happened to glance in his direction and he looked thunderous, like he could have gone on a rampage in the room. I had never seen that expression on him before. I don’t know what to think about it.”
Walt looks dubious. “He’s had a long stretch of years to reflect on his behavior toward you. He probably feels guilty as hell. Or he’s looking for a way out with a current mate,” he theorizes, rolling his eyes.
“Could you even imagine?” I guffaw. “Don’t worry. I learned my lesson the first time with that good-for-nothing male. I’ll never settle for being second place again.”
We split up after lunch. Walt and Acton head to the gardening store in search of their next breakthrough in Acton’s landscaping project. Before they left, Walt took pity on me andrelieved me of the pink bag, making me breathe a little easier. I couldn’t even finish my salad, so I’m bringing half of it home with me.
My feet walk me in the direction of Mayweather Potions and Panacea out of instinct. It’s my second home, after all. But what will I do while I’m there? Sunny has it well in hand. She’s been so kind to contribute more of her magick to me and the shop than she should. When she visited me last week, she even went around the house to top up any charms and enchantments she noticed might be running low. I also had her check the fountain. That task has been ingrained in me since childhood. Just the thought of leaves falling into it fills me with dread. But it isn’t fair to her to overcompensate because I’m now lacking. I plan on tallying that extra work and pay her accordingly along with her weekly wage. For as many weeks as I must.
The door chimes in its familiar fashion as I open it. Sunny’s glowing caramel-complected face lights up when she sees me. “Ada! You’re back! Let me show you what I’m working on.”
She takes my hand and tugs me toward our workstation where we concoct potions, which have a range of consistencies depending on the use. “One of the London covens is doing incredibly advanced work with cosmetics. They’ve inspired some fresh ideas that I’ve wanted to try out. My friends and I are having so much fun with it,” she gushes. Her hair looks particularly glamorous today with long flowing curls in a shimmering purple tone, resembling tinsel. Usually it’s straight and dark, pulled back in a high ponytail while she’s working.
Gesturing to her hair, I ask, “Is this your handiwork? It’s gorgeous.”
“Yes!” she replies in an energetic burst. “I developed so many shades. Even some balayage options. They turned out even better than I hoped. Would you mind if I sell them here?”
“Of course not,” I assure her. “Everyone will go crazy for them. Keep track of the amount we sell, and I’ll add that to your paycheck. Keep creating new items and we’ll add them to the shelves.”
“Thank you! I have so many ideas!” she squeals.
Sunny’s magick has always shown exceptional artistry. Her spellweaving creates unusually compelling results. She’s taken over most of the shape-changing and aesthetic work in the shop. She possesses an innate talent for it I could never replicate. While we already sell items that change hair color, they are not nearly as complex as hers based on the example she’s currently wearing. It seems like she found a passion project, and I’m more than happy to support her.
Since I’m here, I tackle some work that doesn’t require magick. After checking over inventory, I finish the shift scheduling for the next few weeks. Luckily, no one is taking any time off until Yule. Grasping the nettle, I mark myself down for my normal working hours. It’ll force me back to reality, and I’ll always hold myself accountable to my staff. Though I may be cursing my current self in the future.
Some young coven members come in, striking up a conversation with me and Sunny. “Did you feel those ward disturbances last night? It doesn’t make sense. Like someone was poking at it,” mentions Cash, a male close to Sunny’s age. I didn’t know since I can’t feel the town’s ward any longer. It’s like a light buzz of awareness if something crosses it that shouldn’t. It grows stronger if the ward doesn’t expel it soon enough.
“Yes! It woke me up,” she grumbles.
