So what if they had four legs and shat in a bucket?
3.Cole
“Maybe it’s not a bad thing,” Enzo said.
I glared at him.
“How is it not a bad thing?” I asked, and it was Enzo’s turn to stare.
“Come on, Cole. What are you? Five? You need Mommy and Daddy around twenty-four-seven? Be for real right now.” He turned to Ella, who was playing with her food on her high chair, and cooed, “Daddy needs to get real, doesn’t he, Ella Bella Arabella?”
“Don’t teach my daughter that crab,” I groaned.
“What crab?”
I narrowed my gaze on him. I hated it when he was playing coy. I mean, yeah, he was my best friend and all, but he didn’t need to call me out at every opportunity.
“Teaching her that her dad is an idiot,” I said.
“Well, I wasn’t, but if the shoe fits…” Enzo bit his lip and handed Ella a bowl of grapes before he turned to me. “Tea?”
I lifted my coffee mug in the air and shook my head.
“I’m good,” I said.
Enzo proceeded to make two cups anyway, like he had the day before, like he had all week when we got an opportunity to catch up—which, one would think, wasn’t that hard, living in the same house and all. But if he wasn’t busy doing my brother, I was working, so…
“Why do you insist on making this shizz for me?” I asked when he put the mug of steaming dishwater in front of me.
Enzo gasped.
“Shizz? Did you just call Lilian’s tea blend shizz? I think you’ve just managed to get yourself cursed, my friend. I’m gonna tell my mama on you.”
I rolled my eyes and looked into the tea mug as if it were going to change its color or flavor. I really wasn’t a tea person, but if there was a tea to enjoy, or at the very least, drink, that was probably Lilian’s blends; Enzo’s mom who fancied herself a witch and had made it her job. The Happy Witch Café had been a staple on this island for as long as I’d been alive, even if the poor woman had faced the wrath of the religious zealots of this town—which thankfully weren’t many, but they were persistent.
Me, I couldn’t see why anyone cared. It wasn’t as if her magic was real. As if eating a luck cake would make someone win the lottery or something. And if they did… I was sure that was projection. After all, I’d been eating her magical cakes foryears, and I hadn’t become a millionaire or solved all my life’s problems.
“Don’t!” I said. “Fine. I’ll drink it. Just don’t tell Lilian I called it shizz.”
Truth be told, it wasn’t even offensive. But as I found with most teas, it smelled better than it tasted. It was warm and slightly floral with hints of sweetness, which needed a few spoonfuls of sugar to come out. It was the perfect cozy blend for the holiday season. If tea was your thing.
I took a sip under the watchful eye of my best friend and almost choked when it clicked.
“This… this isn’t some kind of spell, is it?” I ask after patting my chest a couple of times to clear my airways.
“No! Why would you think that?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm that I wasn’t sure even he knew he was giving, and I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Because I know your mom. She’s a sneaky witch like that.”
“Witch. Witch. Witch.” Ella chuckled, and it almost sounded like a chant. Or an incantation even.
“Yes, sweetie. Witch. Well done.” Enzo applauded her, and I huffed.
“Uh-huh. So you admit it. It’s a spell.”
Enzo grimaced.
“I did nothing of the sort. I just confirmed Mom is a witch and congratulated Ella for pronouncing it right. Didn’t I, Ella Bella Arabella?”
