And then he did. For a couple of hours Eloise and Taylor spent time in a dark, locked cafe that would soon be hers, learning more about each other without much talking.
A few weeks later warmer weather poured into Salem bringing the smell of wild onions and the sweetness of peach blossoms.
"I dropped off a basket of peaches at the correctional facility," Eloise said.
Seven women sat around a bonfire underneath the zigzagging cafe lights above as the day held that brilliant cerulean blue and light peach color that would dazzle until it gave way to the sparkling night sky. The smell of smoky fire and the blossoming spring air was freshness at its most delirious and Eloise breathed it in holding it all inside of her lungs. For the first time in so long she felt the kind of peace that comes with fighting the battles you've spent so much energy holding off.
It is true, that you should be wise in choosing your battles, but if you never choose any, the price is never finding the peace waiting on the other side of the ones worth fighting.
So Eloise sat there with her people, her sisters, and basked in the peace she fought for.
"In a spiteful way or in a loving way?" Tilly asked.
Eloise shrugged. "However Cassidy wants to take it is up to her. But they were deliciously ripe and the ones that clocked her in the face weren't a good representation of what this land can grow with the right people who don't twist its magic," she said easily, digging into her own bowl of grilled bourbon and clove peaches with homemade vanilla bean ice cream topped with sugared peach blossoms.
"I like you," Jen said pointing her ice cream covered spoon at her from across the fire.
"Mutual," she said back with a smile.
Bess had three baby raccoons in her lap that she was feeding treats to as Jessica reached down to scoop up Lady Macbeth into her lap.
"I have some news," Jessica announced. She'd been coming to their dinner clubs and impromptu gatherings more. She looked at Crystal who was sitting next to her wearing a cream kaftan and dark caramel flowy pants with her hair in luxurious, thickwhite waves. "The kids and I are going to be moving to the farm with Crystal."
"This old biddy could use the noise," Crystal said with the most settled look on her barely lined face. Truly, this woman's age was a mystery and one she was not privy on letting anyone in on.
Everyone toasted her and asked questions. They talked about what needed fixing up at the house and their plans to get a business going for smashing glitter eggs as an emotional release. The farm house would no longer be white and dingy, but painted a soft, mauve-pink.
"I have never had so much fun with glitter," Ursula admitted.
"And I found that stuff in my underwear for days," Kelsea said. "Honestly, was a delightful surprise."
"Yeah, not like sand," Jen added.
"Alright, so can we be a coven now? Can we just call it that?" Eloise asked.
"Oh, we doing the 'define the relationship' thing?" Jen asked and laughter sounded around the fire.
"I just think it's crazy and unique," Eloise said sitting forward. "Let's lean into it."
"I agree and I think I should be allowed to join," Bess announced. One of the kits was crawling up her chest to settle in the crook of her neck.
"No alcohol," Ursula said pointing at her.
"Deal," Bess replied with a smile.
"Hey," A voice called and everyone turned to shout hellos and waved the newcomer toward the seat they had left open for her. Carol Weatherby was joining her first bonfire and dessert with them after everything happened those weeks ago. Since then, she had written three stories for The Salem Settler. One was about the oddities of The Lost Souls House but it read in a cozy and welcoming sort of way that made people feel proud of their quirky little town with its places like this house and thegraveyard. Many cut the article out and stuck it on their fridge. A second article was about Cassidy Parker and the ambitious journalist had uncovered her entire background.
It turned out that she wasn't as related to the original owners of The Lost Souls House as she claimed. She was married young, at eighteen, to a man who descended from the line of mysterious owners of the house and property. He died an even more mysterious death that put her under a cloud of suspicion in their town. When she got a letter of her late husband's great great aunt passing, she was more than happy to leave town and came here claiming to be the granddaughter and no one questioned it.
Until Carol Weatherby. Now her deceased husband's odd death is being investigated and Cassidy Parker has added counts of fraud and pending counts of another murder.
The last article, came out a few days ago, and talked of a friendship so deep that it spanned time and distance, heartbreak and redemption. Her words pointed out that friends like Ursula Cambridge and Eloise Willow were rare, an endangered species and she had seen just a glimpse of them protecting that together. How she wove in this friendship with the health benefits of women in community together was beautiful and had women across Salem looking to their closest female friends in honest love and gratefulness; they made an extra plans to have tea or coffee together, hugged each other a little tighter, reminded each other what they loved about them. It had spread throughout Salem so rapidly, this friend soulmate resurgence, that some say the sweetness of it bled into the ground and roots that the flowers, bushes, even trees nearly doubled their usual size.
The town looked like a postcard for how spring always hoped it would be.
And now these women come together and celebrate each other and their friendship in the most simple ways; a wink, lightly playing with someone's hair as they stand near each othertalking about their favorite book or dish soap brand. So much chocolate was bought at the local stores, that one of the shops in town reported higher sales than Valentine's Day.
"Darling, welcome!" Crystal said patting Carol's leg. "I see you brought libations for us," she noticed.
