She bit down hard, scrunched her nose as the laughter stacked up inside of her. She raised an arm without looking backward, wiggling her fingers as her shoulders shook with the heavy weight of mirth he was pouring into her.
"Also, your shirt is on inside out! See you around, Eloise Willow!"
And then she turned a corner and let out a sweet billow of sound. Why did the detective who could not date have to be so alluring? Humor and quick wit were her kryptonite and rare; add in the light blue eyes that made you feel like you're in their orbit, and he might be a recipe she could go for.
But he made it clear that he didn't date, for whatever reason. She respected it. And she wouldn't play with it. Never in the history of a man saying he wasn't ready for commitment was that code for "but maybe for you."
So many women pick up the challenge anyway. She had herself, once or twice in her younger years.
Maybe in another life. But in this one, he wasn't available and she wouldn't try and stretch her heart for him with hope, knowing exactly how that story ended; a feeling of being stretched too thin with small holes poked through leaving the one who hoped feeling worn and see-through.
The fact was, if she got back into the dating pool it would have to be the shallow end, just the toes, nice and easy. The danger couldn't be that great if she stayed above water.
She needed a first date. A real one. Where the guy knew he was also on the date.
10. New Hexes and Flowers
Salem started its Saturday cool and partly cloudy until about nine that morning when the clouds parted and the town tilted just the slightest. There was a new sense of frenzy and being off-kilter. The town usually found itself floating through spring and summer gently and lazily until they jumped into their witchy season, which typically started as soon as August.Spring and Summer had a film around it, the town came out from hiding in winter to plant their spring gardens and meet each other for walks and coffees. The months of March and April were riddled with rain showers until the ground had swallowed enough to hang onto precious roots and push out new blooms which was when spring would bleed into summer.
But today, today felt like they had skipped two seasons and there was a buzz that no one could quite name or catch in their hands and was typically ushered in with apple-spiced winds and bonfires, not this petrichor mixed with blooming hyacinths and lilacs. Everyone was thrown. It was manifesting in little ways, like the mailman delivering mail to the wrong mailboxes, people waking up later than usual or in the middle of the night thinking it was morning, and how neighbors started watering the coral bells next door instead of their own bearded irises.
Eloise could smell it, like a clashing mash-up of spring, summer and autumn smells trying to right themselves. Peonies, summer thunderstorms and spiced cider were battling against her senses. So intense was the riot of smell that she rubbed peppermint oil underneath her nose to drown them out.
She brought a tin of herbal tea to the shop that she had mixed after Ursula had pulled in roses, mint, and chamomile to dry. The aroma was airy and fragrant and she put it on the menu as Salem Spring Herbal tea and it was ordered exactly fourteen times while she was there.
She'd gotten everything in order, staying a little over two hours, but felt good about the coming week. Once she sent Shellee an email giving her an update on how everything was going, she called her own store to check in. The peppermint oil had worn off a bit ago and being tucked deeply into the coffee shop, she could breathe easier.
She was leaning back in the old office chair that smelled like dust and coffee grounds listening to her store manager talkabout how much they missed her and their regulars asking where she was but overall the report was good. She could admit she did miss the shop, the thing she had poured herself into and built over the last few years, and still, she didn't feel a press to return and she was chewing on that after she hung up and one of the baristas popped his head into the doorway.
"Hey, Eloise?"
"Hey," she said and paused. Phillip, a thirty-something who also worked in IT between his shifts at the cafe, looked discombobulated. His usually buzzed hair was longer in patches around his head and still buzzed in others giving him an ornamental grass look. "You alright?"
"Eh," he shrugged. "I think so. I feel off. And I woke up to my hair growing like this overnight, which sounds crazy. And we've gotten a couple of new customers that aren't Salemites."
"Is that really what locals are called?"
He shrugged.
She smiled. "What's up?"
"Someone left a tip but wanted it to specifically go to you," he said.
She shook her head and told him to add it to the tip jar for them to share but he made a face and shrugged saying, "I mean, it's Canadian so not really sure we can do much with it."
At his words, her stomach dropped violently as her chair slammed back to the ground with a thick slap. Her heart was beating hard, pushing against her ribs as a sudden flush of heat overtook her skin. But this wasn't like a regular hot flash. This was anxiety, sudden and fierce.
This was fear.
She held out her hand, trying to regulate her breathing as Phillip placed the Canadian coin into her open palm, the smell of sweaty coins and spicy cologne assaulting her and then leavingher alone to stare at the offensive talisman that would bring anything but good luck.
The next two days she spent on high alert, her eyes always looking a few seconds longer in places, and her hand always in easy reach of her phone. She didn't sleep well either night under the peach tree, and when she did she dreamed of running, of raging words being yelled at her, and a worn woman crying. When she woke both mornings, she was surrounded by rotten peaches, their smell sickly sweet and sharp.
By the end of the second day, her mind loosened slightly, her body didn't hold itself as tightly. Still, shadows were darker and noises held ominous possibilities.
She helped Kelsey with coaching soccer and brought the after-practice treats; crinkle-cut carrots and cinnamon peanut butter, fat grapes and blackberries, and of course, butterscotch rice crispy treats cut out using a cat-shaped cookie-cutter.
She and Kelsea were talking about dating, each with a butterscotch cat in their hands.
