Simon scrambled out of the chair. He put the computer to sleep, then ran to Chris, who turned and bumped into him. “No, no, into the office,” she hushed, and closed the door behind them. “Hide!”
She darted for the sofa, disappearing behind it. Simon gazed around in panic, finally taking the only other available hiding space—underneath his desk.
The door opened.
Simon caught his breath, putting a hand over his mouth.
Long, heavy steps approached. The chair creaked as the man sat down, his polished black shoes nearly touching Simon’s legs as he pulled his knees to his chest.
“Hmm,” a voice grumbled. The man stopped for a moment, perfectly still, making Simon wonder if he could somehow sense the two burglars hidden in the room.
And then the chair creaked again, and a wide face with a shiny bald head appeared below the edge of the table.
For the longest few seconds, Simon and the man who’d come to ruin his plan stared at each other.
“Mr. Simon?” the man then said.
Simon dropped his hand. “Hello, Stan.”
***
The day spent working alongside her mom was a unique kind of torture for Shanna.
Bella seemed like a wonderful, warm person. She small-talked with customers, petted dogs (who she had no problem with entering her store), and praised Shanna every time she did something right, be it advise a customer on the correct crystal selection or sort out the shelves after an eager young witch-to-be left them a mess. And each time, Shanna’s heart lifted into the sky, then slammed back onto the ground when she realized the praise wasn’t that of a mother to her daughter, but a shop owner measuring up her possible successor.
Mom made no more mention of Shanna’s strange behavior the previous day. Either she’d forgotten about it, or she decided to let it slide and ascribe it to Shanna being stressed out.
As they closed up in the late afternoon, Mom said, “Come. Let’s go eat, and we’ll talk.”
They went to a seafood restaurant by the lake. As twilight descended, Shanna watched an old steamer sail out with tourists and the seagulls landing on the pier afterwards, squawking as they fought for breadcrumbs.
“You did well,” Mom said. “And you’ll say one day isn’t enough to measure a person, but as a witch, you’ll also know I don’t only need the data. I feel it—your zest, your passion. You enjoy doing this.”
She did—even more so recently. Before Simon had come back, witchcraft could be a struggle sometimes, not because she didn’t like it, but because she knew every time she tried it, she’d fail in some measure. But her time with Simon and Chris, their unwavering support, had done something to her. It blew away her fears and made her truly appreciate her work.Believein her abilities.
“So, if you wish, the shop is yours.”
“You’d simply give it to me?”
“Well, you’ll have to keep up the profits,” Mom chuckled. “And mind you, they’re not big. But if you’re like me, you don’t require a lot.”
“How come you’re closing? You don’t seem to be tired of the work.”
“Of it, no. But …” Mom’s glance traveled over the endless lake. “Of being here, perhaps. I’ve run the store for almost twenty years. I’d like to move on. Travel some more before these bones are too weary for it. There are still many places of this land I haven’t seen. Other lands, too.”
Shanna’s heart squeezed. She was so close. After all this time, after having forgotten her, then following her footsteps, then finding she was alive, Mom was finally here. They were together again.
And she was going to leave like nothing had happened.
“I will say this … it’s going to be strange.” Mom smiled at the waiter bringing their food and sniffed her grilled fish with delight. “In a few days or weeks, you might start wondering how you got to have this store. You’ll have … forgotten me.”
Shanna swallowed, not feeling like touching the food yet. Should she play this game much longer? “What do you mean?”
“I’m cursed. You’ll be no stranger to those, I assume. My curse makes people forget me.”
“What did you do to get cursed?”
“It wasn’t me. It’s a family thing.” Mom furrowed her eyebrows. “I must’ve heard it from my parents, I suppose.”
