Page 53 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

“It’s only brought freaks and weirdos like you!” Mrs. Bochart pointed her finger at Talula.

“I’m not a weirdo or a freak. My beliefs are just different from yours!” Talula snapped. “Samhain isn’t about having sex with demons or whatever. It’s a fall celebration with a few nods to pagan traditions and a lot of Halloween.”

“I don’t care. I don’t like it!”

“You don’t have to like it. You just have to get over your small-minded bigotry!”

“That’s enough!” Mrs. Bochart shouted.

At the edge of her mind, Talula noticed that the market had gone very quiet.

“You can’t come to my place of business and disrespect me like this,” Mrs. Bochart hissed. “Get out.”

Around her, Talula felt the communal gasp of the market. All eyes were on the bake stand.

“Fine!” Talula’s vision was still tinged with rage. She grabbed her bike handlebars and walked away. As she turned, Talula cringed. People were pointing, sneering, and straightening their anti-Samhain signs. Mrs. Bochart stood stiff as a rolling pin, watching Talula leave with her arms crossed over her chest. But the look on Mrs. Bochart’s face surprised Talula. She could have sworn she saw confusion in the baker’s expression.

But Talula, too embarrassed to wonder more, turned and kept walking out of the market.

When they were far out of sight, Simon spoke.

“Earwigs…earwigs would have gone better.”

Talula couldn’t agree more.

The walk back to the Blue Moon was a slow, quiet one. Finally, when Talula’s heated cheeks had cooled, she said, “I feel like an idiot. I got mad, and that did not help our cause.”

“You were being truthful,” Simon pointed out. “But the truth is not always palatable.”

“That’s just a nice way of saying I was a moron.” Talula’s shoulders hunched over, her walk becoming a slouch of shame. “I can’t imagine how much damage I did with everyone.”

“You have more allies than you think. The Navarros are certainly your champions. That Emilio…” Simon started to look a little dreamy. “He has such gentle hands.”

“He’s married, Simon.”

Simon ignored her. “Despite the many insufferable humans you encountered, you never resorted to harmful magic.”

“You were the one who told me to turn them all into earwigs.”

“In my defense, I haven’t been around that many idiotic humans in a millennium, and a good earwig hex never goes out of style.” Simon cleared his throat. “As I was saying, you focused on the goal and put your best foot forward. I’m impressed.”

“Simon.” Talula came to an abrupt halt. “You said something nice! About me!”

“I did?” Simon wrinkled his nose. “How distasteful.”

Talula laughed and resumed wheeling her bike toward the café. Her stomach was still a tangle of emotions, but she felt a little spark of hope. Now I make things right with Dahlia.

Once they arrived at the Blue Moon, Talula had to make three trips to get all of her farmers’ market groceries into the Voltlette. Simon watched her, licking his lips. “Are you going to eat those turnovers now or…?”

“We had breakfast an hour ago.”

“But this morning has been terrible! People made cooing noises at me and touched my ears. My ears!” Simon whined. He gave Talula the biggest, shiniest puppy-dog eyes she’d ever seen. “Turnovers from that bilious woman would help soothe my cantankerous soul.”

Talula snorted. She pulled on her apron. “We can’t have your cantankerous soul going unsoothed.”

“Indeed we can’t.”

When the pastry was nothing more than crumbs on Simon’s snout, he spoke. “That’s better. Now, let’s resume training.”