“No, it doesn’t. Oh, also, you’ll be glad to hear that Graciela’s coven checked in this morning,” she said as she put a thumbtack in the wall, not far from Napa, as I’d predicted. “They’re going wine tasting today. And their path has definitely formed Corydon’s sign,” said Maya as she looped red thread around the tack. “They said they’d be here tomorrow, for sure. They were in a dead zone for talking, but I texted them about the sign, and whether they were kidnapped.”
“You did? How did they respond?”
“‘LOL.’”
“‘Lots of love’?”
“‘Laugh out loud,’” she said, chuckling. “The thing is, Lily, with you I don’t know if that’s a joke, or you’re serious.”
I smiled in return, but didn’t clarify. Oscar often said, “OMG,” but otherwise I wasn’t exactly up on my texting acronyms.
“So, let’s get to work, shall we?” Maya said.
We trooped next door and, with the help of Lucille and her seamstresses, pushed the sewing machines and worktables to the very back of Lucille’s Loft, opening up space for the racks and the shelf contents we would bring over from Aunt Cora’s Closet. Lucille had already moved the custom orders to the front of her shop, and every once in a while one of her clients would drop by to pick up her dress, excited about tomorrow’s event.
Which reminded me: “Lucille, who is Renee Baker bringing to the tea as her match? You made their outfits, didn’t you?”
“I really don’t know,” Lucille said. “Renee gave me the measurements for her match’s outfit, but she didn’t come in for a fitting.”
“That seems odd,” I said.
Lucille shrugged. “It happens that way sometimes. People get busy.”
“Has she picked up the dresses yet?”
“No, I have them here.” Lucille held out a large dress, along with a smaller one. They were made of matching material, colorful little cupcakes somersaulting across a beige background. Cupcakes. How unexpected.
I tried holding Renee’s dress in my arms, hoping to sense any wayward vibrations. No luck. I doubted she had worn it long enough for me to sense anything, anyway—and the befuddling spell I was suffering under didn’t help.
The smaller dress could have fit Amy—Wind Spirit—though I couldn’t be sure. Would it even make sense that she would come with Renee? Wouldn’t that be an obvious tip-off to me? Or would that even matter? Once Renee allied herself with someone magical, I imagined it wouldn’t remain a secret. So far, her intentions to mount a challenge to Aidan had been surprisingly straightforward.
Despite everything, I relaxed as I spent a pleasant day with friends, a welcome change from business as usual. We turned up the music—Maya had put together a great mix of upbeat hits from the eighties and nineties—and busied ourselves packing and hauling, fueled by bagels and chips and soda. Luckily Lucille’s Loft was right next door to Aunt Cora’s Closet, so we were able to roll some of the racks over just as they were, full of hanging clothes. Smaller items such as hats, scarves, and gloves were packed in boxes, which we then stacked on the worktables in the rear of Lucille’s shop. We carted over armfuls of dresses, skirts, blouses, and coats that weren’t on racks, stashing them atop workbenches or on clean blankets laid out on the floor.
We covered my main display counter with a heavybrocade cloth; it would serve as a refreshments stand. The shop was nearly emptied of merchandise, but I kept the too-fragile-to-wear dresses hanging on the wall as art pieces, their gossamer skirts fanning out. We outfitted the mannequins in the store’s window displays in sets of matching dresses that hadn’t been purchased for the tea. When, at Maya’s suggestion, we fitted them with hats and gloves, they looked very smart.
By early afternoon, we were done. Duke ordered pizza and the whole crew sprawled on the floor of the shop admiring our handiwork, and taking a well-deserved food break before starting on phase two of the preparations: giving the place a good scrubbing. I wanted to take this rare opportunity to clean thoroughly—using both standard and magical means. Sweeping and mopping under and around racks of clothing is no easy feat, and though I “cleansed” the shop every morning, given the circumstances, I thought it best to add a little extra magic. After the shop had been thoroughly vacuumed, mopped, and wiped down, I smudged widdershins, then sprinkled saltwater deosil, all over the store.
Next we set up several small folding café tables, and ringed the room with long tables for refreshments. There wouldn’t be enough room for everyone to sit at a table, but we wanted at least some chairs for those who needed them. Tomorrow morning we would put out the fresh flowers, dishes, and silverware. I was happy to have a reason to put all that vintage cutlery Selena had been polishing to good use.
I had noticed Conrad and his friend Shalimar whispering throughout the day; she seemed to be urging him to do something. Shalimar left after our pizza feast, and I asked Conrad if everything was okay.
“Dude, I’mma turn twenty-five next month,” he said. “I wanted to ask you...”
“Would you like to hold a party here?” I asked.
“Naw, it’s not that. It’s more like... I’m, like, tired. I was thinking I want to change things. Maybe visit my mom.”
“I didn’t know you had a mom.”
“Dude. Sure. We... we haven’t been close; but lately I’ve been thinking. I mean... a person never knows what’s gonna happen, y’know? I’m not getting any younger, and neither is she. It’s easy to act like you’ve got plenty of time, but when you really think about it, no one really knows how much time they have.”
“You are a very wise man, Conrad,” I said.
His words made me think of my own mother. Yes, I was anxious to see her, but part of me had been hoping she wouldn’t come. It was going to be hard to face her—wonderful, but hard. In some ways it was tempting just to avoid the whole thing. But Conrad was right. How did I know how much time I had, or how much time she had? I had faced disaster, and even death, several times in the past couple of years. I couldn’t take life, or time, for granted. None of us could.
“So, when you say you want to make some changes,” I continued, “what do you mean?”
His eyes shifted around the newly cavernous shop, as though he was embarrassed. “Dude. Sobriety. You’ve offered to help me get sober, before.”
