“What’s going on?” Rose asks her, confused. “Do you have an event today?”
“Everyone’s coffee pots seemed to break this morning.” Mari shoots a wary eye back at her line of machines. “I’m glad I had your sister service mine last week.”
“Must have been a power surge,” a resonant male voice says from just behind me.
My stomach swoops, because I would recognize that voice anywhere, and I already heard it once today. Rose tightens her grip on my arm.
“My uncle sent me a few emails saying there had been a lot of strange power surges out at Watchmere before he…” Caleb trails off, and Mari makes sympathetic noises.
“Here, you three, you sit over here.” She motions to a near-empty four-top table where Tom Gallagher is reading the news and sipping a cup of steaming black coffee. “I’ll bring you your usual. Unless you want something different?”
“I like the same things I always have, Mari,” Caleb says, staring at me.
I swallow hard and stare at the leather tassels on my shoes, my cheeks getting hot.
“Tom,” Mari says in a no-nonsense voice. “Make room for these three.”
Tom glares at us from above his spectacles, then ruffles the pages of the paper before going back to reading.
Rose laughs, a musical noise that has the whole coffee shop momentarily quieting. Anyone else might blame the scent of cinnamon and sugar filling the air on the café, but she and I know better.
Her magic is leaking out, just like mine did when it shorted out the espresso machine… and maybe all the other coffee makers in town.
“I’m sorry about your uncle, Caleb,” Rose says.
“He was sick for a long time,” Caleb answers, which doesn’t make it any less horrible, but we all nod like we agree.
“I’m sorry, too,” I find myself saying. “He was a wonderful man. We all miss him.”
My chair seems unnecessarily loud as it squeaks across the floor, and I plop down in it, rubbing my temples.
“Migraine?” Tom asks unexpectedly. “Coffee will help.”
He pushes his cup towards me, and I stare at it for a long moment, trying not to laugh at the thought of calling my errant visions a migraine —nearly laughing at the idea of telling Tom and Caleb that the Romantic sisters aren’t what we seem to be, not at all.
I won’t though.
There’s one thing I know for sure about our magic: the four of us have to be careful about who we trust, who we love.
Because how can we trust anyone to look past the magic and see us?
“Ivy?” Tom asks, and I realize he’s stopped reading, or pretending to, in favor of staring at me with an extremely concerned expression.
“It’s hard to lose someone you…” I drift off before I can addyou loveonto the end of that. I force myself to smile softly at Caleb. “I’m here for you.”
I cough, grabbing Tom’s mug then setting it down, relieved not to have to drink his out of sheer social awkwardness, when Mari bustles by, leaving an entire pot and cups for us on the table. “The town is here for you, I mean.”
“We’re all here for you,” Rose adds at nearly the same time.
I try not to notice as she pats the top of his hand.
It doesn’t bother me that she’s touching him. Not one bit.
Tom grabs the carafe of coffee and fills mine first, shoving it towards me with a meaningful furrow of his bristly brows.
Glad for something to do with my hands and mouth that doesn’t involve Caleb, I take it. It scalds my mouth, the back of my throat.
That’s a better alternative than making a fool of myself and saying whatever was on the tip of my tongue.
