Page 121 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

Talula abandoned her cocoa efforts. “What is happening?” she said, out loud this time.

Mrs. Bochart smirked. “One caramel macchiato, four shots of espresso, two decaf, two caf, and a drizzle of raspberry syrup. No whip.”

Talula braced her arms on the café counter, finally understanding how women in Victorian novels died of shock.

Mrs. Bochart slid onto a counter stool across from Talula. “Here’s the deal, girlie. I know what the Blue Moon does. I know the community it serves. I know the secrets it safeguards.”

“How?”

“Your mother.” Mrs. Bochart continued, “When you were born, Sara knew that you’d be a part of the human world. Which meant that the front for the Volta would be a little more a part of the human world, too, and need extra protection. We agreed that I’d be the ‘anti-ambassador’ of the Blue Moon to keep visitors to a minimum.” She placed a hand over Talula’s. “Every awful word I’ve ever said about this place was to create a sort of…social barrier to keep locals away from you and the people you protect.”

Talula blinked, taking in this entirely different version of Mrs. Bochart. “Why are you telling me all this now?”

“Because I didn’t realize until now that Sara forgot to tell you about our little arrangement!” Mrs. Bochart shook her head and laughed. “But it makes sense. Your mother is a wonderful big-picture person but a little flaky on the small stuff. Sure, she forgot to tell you about me, but I’ll bet my bakery that she told you exactly where the Stick of Eternal Sparkles is, am I right?”

The Wand of Ageless Opalescence was under their guest bathroom sink, next to the tampons. Mrs. Bochart read the look on Talula’s face with a chuckle. “Classic Sara.”

Talula felt her guard dissolve. “Then why were you so mean to me?”

“I thought you were in on it!” Mrs. Bochart threw her arms in the air. “I thought it was your way of saying hello and playing around, trying to make me break character.”

“You thought we were doing magical undercover spy banter?” Talula had to laugh.

“When you say things like ‘the weather is so weathery,’ what am I supposed to think, young lady?” Mrs. Bochart huffed, ears turning a little pink. “I didn’t realize how wrong I was until your girlfriend turned up at my door.”

Talula froze. “Dahlia came to your house?”

“With binders.” Mrs. Bochart groaned, sounding a lot more like the put-upon baker Talula knew so well. “She went through the petitions and figured out that I’d never signed them. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, even to maintain my cover. So there I was, on a Tuesday night, minding my business, when this young lady starts abusing my doorbell. I let her think she swayed my curmudgeonly self into seeing the light. I used her argument at the town hall meeting.”

Dahlia. Dahlia saved Samhain.

Mrs. Bochart didn’t miss the heartbroken look on Talula’s face. “Ah. So it’s like that.” She propped an elbow on the counter and rested her chin on her palm. “How’d you mess it up?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“A sorceress with a ‘Magical Destiny’ and a beautiful human girl at a romantic crossroads? I may have some unique perspective to provide here.” She looked meaningfully at Talula.

“No way.” Talula didn’t know how many more plot twists she could take. “You and my mom?”

“Start talking. And I believe I ordered some cocoa?” Mrs. Bochart tsked, eyes crinkled up with her smile. “The service here is terrible.”

As Talula made cocoa, she let the whole story tumble out. As she slid the mug to Mrs. Bochart, Talula couldn’t believe how much lighter she felt talking about everything.

She watched, a little nervously, as Mrs. Bochart brought the mug to her lips. Despite all the revelations, Talula still wanted her culinary approval. The baker took a discerning sip, then smacked her lips. Talula waited, hands fisted in her apron. Mrs. Bochart stayed silent. Then she cackled. “I’m just pulling your leg. This is the best cocoa I’ve ever had.”

“Mrs. Bochart!” Talula scolded, but she couldn’t stifle a laugh.

“Now, here’s my human wisdom.” Mrs. Bochart took another sip. “When we were together, your mother kept secrets. But, unlike your oblivious moron of a sperm donor, I’m observant.”

(Talula detected a very significant can of worms there.)

“The truth wasn’t hard to piece together. I think your mom wanted me to find out. When I told her what I knew, she looked so relieved. She filled in the rest, and for a while, everything was okay. Until it wasn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like loving a superhero,” Mrs. Bochart mused. “I knew this person I cared for so deeply couldn’t be themselves without this path, this mission. Your mother wasn’t choosing her Magical Destiny over me when she left to battle evil squids or whatever. It took me a while to figure that out. Too long. By then, I was tired of the magical mystery tour and wanted to choose more of what I wanted in my life. But we stayed friendly and got on with our lives. I met Dan—an EMT, by the way, so apparently, I have a type. And your mother made you.”

Talula chewed on her lip. “You don’t regret it?”