Another blow of memory as he laughed, silky and sinuous and familiar.Theworstfamiliar.
“You’re right about that. That battle axe will never let me forget it.”
Will never. They were with her still, and he knew it. Ladybug nodded and squeezed Anzan’s hand.
“Tell me what I need to do.”
Bytheendofthe next week, Ladybug was regretting every choice she’d made that had led her to her present circumstances.
She had spent the first week after her application was submitted reaching out to her existing client base. Holt had suggested putting out a notice to let them know they would soon be able to buy products in person and pick up their existing orders from her table on Saturdays. She liked that idea. If nothing else, her order queue was steady, and if even half of those clients picked up from the Makers’ Mart, it would keep her lonely little table from seeming too pathetic.
“O-okay. I’ll do that tomorrow.” She’d squared her shoulders, reminding herself of all she’d accomplished on her own that year. “I’ll go right down the list and call all of them,” she assured him in a steadier voice, “and we’ll see what they say.”
“Call them?” Holt’s voice was horrified. He stared, waiting, and the minute ticked by.
Ladybug shrugged helplessly.What was she supposed to do?!
“What are you planning next, going door to door? This isn’t the 90s anymore, people don’t justanswerthe phone. I can’t believe I have to explain this to you.”
Her neck had been hot, and she knew that her cheeks were likely flushed pink.This was a mistake, a terrible mistake.“What do you suggest I do then?” she asked through gritted teeth.
Holt raised a hand, gesturing as if he were waiting for the punch line of her joke before dropping his head back with a dramatic eye roll.
“Send an email, for pity’s sake. It’ll take two minutes.”
She hadn’t wanted to admit to him that she didn’t actuallyhavean email address for most of her clients. She still worked on paper, wrote up her invoices and kept her own books in a ledger. Some of her clients were older and likely as technologically challenged as she was herself, without the benefit of an Anzan at home. Ladybug realized with dawning dismay that a table at the Makers’ Mart on Saturdays was likely only the beginning of what Holt was going to change.
Hand-written notes were painstakingly written out, asking each of her clients if they would be interested in the opportunity to pick up their orders in person and shop a wider selection of her wares. She included a pre-addressed, stamped card for them to return, after they’d checked off their answer, deciding what Holt didn’t know wouldn’t hurt either of them.
It wasn’tspecificallywhat he had told her to do, but itwasmail, and she felt more comfortable knowing what her clients wanted for certain. If she just assumed they would be interested in the opportunity, she would never know if they were visiting her table out of necessity or an actual desire, and the not knowing would eat away at her forever.
To her shock and slight distress, one by one, the pre-stamped postcards were returning with an affirmative. Several women had written little notes of their own.
Looking forward to visiting you at the Makers’ Mart!
Can’t wait to see what else you bring!
Two cards were returned with thenobox ticked, but she knew from their names that they were not the sort who frequented community fairs and picnics, so it was not a surprise, while a thirdnocard had arrived from a werebear who’d included further explanation that she currently worked on Saturdays, but her answer would become a ‘yes’ once her rotation changed.
Ladybug was stunned by the response. Elation flooded her as she read the cards over and over again, euphoria quickly giving over to panic, the realization that she would need everything to be perfect taking root and braiding her insides. This was the first time she had expectations to live up to outside of those set by herself or her family. Holt had not said so, but she suspected that she would only have one shot atwowingpeople. She would need to dazzle her clients, remind them of why they wereherclients in the first place, especially if she was specifically inviting them to view her against the competition.You never had to compete at anything before.
She was still humming with excitement when she entered the Food Gryphon later that day. She knew this was likely an insignificant thing, having a table at the Makers’ Mart, but to her, it felt mountainous. It was the first real step towards asserting herself she’d made in the year since her dismissal from the coven. She’d made plenty of personal strides of course, Anzan’s place at her side being the most dramatic change, but this— this was the first time in her adult life that she was asserting herself as a witch, a serious independent practitioner of the craft, the absence of a coven be damned.What am I, if I’m not a witch?
She was in line, happily clutching her basket full of popcorn to replenish their movie night stores, listening without hearing the two troll women in line before her as they hissed with increasing vitriol about some unknown topic.
“I heard something about an ordinance being passed so it might not be a problem for much longer,” the younger of the two spat, casting a venomous glare in her direction, and she’d realized that perhaps she ought to be doing a better job of eavesdropping.
Too dangerous to live in town. Ought to be outlawed. The mayor’s office will see to it.Her hands were shaking when she finally fished out her purple earbuds, pressing them into place and letting the soothing monotony of a lecture on the many uses for hellebore mute their ugly words. She focused on the wheels of the corralled carts just ahead of the checkout line with catatonic stillness, letting the outside world drop away.
She was used to being alone. She was used to conversations taking place above her head, but that did not mean she didn’t hear. It didn’t mean that she did notseethe looks cast in her direction, the way heads came together, hands shielding their gossip. She was not inured to the whispers around her, when they bothered to whisper at all, and it was an odd juxtaposition. She wasn’t sure if she had ever felt as happy as she currently did, and although she was no longer alone, she had never felt quiteasalone.
She remained distracted and out of sorts upon her arrival home, her buoyant mood and happiness over the returned client cards forgotten. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard the wordordinancebeing tossed about.There’s an ordinance being passed. Might not be a problem for much longer.The words turned over and over in her mind as she stood at her counter, unable to make sense of them, staring at nothing, work forgotten. That was how he found her.
“Little bug?”
Ladybug jumped, whirling at Anzan’s sudden voice. He halted just a few steps into the kitchen, his eyebrows turning down at her reaction and expression alike.
“Is everything alright?”
