Chapter Twenty-Two
Emma and Juliette sat at the makeup counter at Dazzle on Wednesday afternoon. They were waiting for Gertie and Molly to finish closing up the salon so they could all grab dinner together.
Molly brushed a second coat of mascara on her already sooty eyelashes. She blinked several times, deciding more was more, and went for a third coat. “Did you lay down the law with Mr. McSexy?”
“Something got laid down,” Juliette said.
Emma shot her cousin a look. “Not yet. I got distracted.”
“She got distracted by his hot bod and forgot the plan.” Juliette rummaged through the lipstick drawer. She chose a hot pink shade and leaned closer to the mirror, talking through carefully stretched lips. “So now they’re kind of dating.”
“Girl! Look at you go.” Molly beamed. “I didn’t know you had it in you. See, Gertie?” she called to the back of the salon. “I told you Mercury was retrograde. That’s why all this weird stuff is going on.”
“What weird stuff?” Gertie stepped from the next room holding a broom and dustpan. The tips of her hair were a shocking shade of lime green. She caught sight of Juliette and Emma and gave each a hug. “Hey, gals, what’s up?”
“Your . . . hair is new,” Emma said.
Gertie patted it proudly, turning her head this way and that. “I did it on a whim last night. Got so sick of my pink highlights. I mean, who wears pink streaks anymore besides angsty tweens, you know what I’m saying? What do you think?”
“It’s very edgy,” Emma offered politely. “And with your pixie cut, it really suits you.” Gertie had that tiny, willowy figure and elflike features that made any combination of wild just look adorable. She could pull off anything, even Lime Juice Tinker Bell.
“So what’s going on with Hunter Kane?” Gertie asked.
To stave off any further comment, Emma decided to spill. “We are sort of seeing each other. I don’t know exactly how it started.”
“Yes, you do,” Juliette piped up. “It started when he showed up at your house and helped you in the kitchen.”
“Okay, yeah,” Emma said quickly. “So it started then, but I was planning on calling things off, and then he kissed me and I sort of forgot.” Emma waved her hand impatiently. “It’s hard to explain how it all happened. I’m just sort of going with it.”
“And well you should,” Gertie said. “Who in their right mind would turn down a fling with someone like him?”
Molly nodded eagerly. “I know, right? Please allow us to all live vicariously through you. I don’t suppose there’s any chance he has a brother? I’m still SOL with Match.com. Last weekend I went to O’Malley’s on a blind date and it was a nightmare.”
“What happened?” Emma asked.
Molly rolled her eyes. “Online this guy seemed super nice and normal, right? I mean, his dating profile wasn’t sleazy. He didn’t live in his parents’ basement. He said he liked ball games and sports and pets. You know, all the typical stuff. So we started chatting and he seemed kind of romantic. He said he just wanted to find the right person to share all the magic life has to offer.”
Juliette gave her a dubious look. “And I’m guessing there was no magic?”
“Oh, there was magic, all right.” Molly grimaced. “I went to O’Malley’s to meet him, but I got there early. James Sullivan was bartending so he made me a drink and we talked for a while, then his face got all weird. Like he was trying not to laugh, you know? So I turned around to see what he was staring at, and it was my date. Standing there. Dressed like a magician.”
Emma gaped. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish! He had on the satin cape, gloves, everything. Said he just got done with one of his gigs. And for the next fifty-two minutes, I had to sit there while he shared all the magic he had to offer. And there was a lot, let me tell you. We’re talking, ‘pick a card, any card’ type stuff.”
“That’s crazeballs,” Juliette said. “I thought he was normal and he liked ball games and sports.”
“Yes, he was quite the champion juggler.”
Emma started to giggle. She slapped both hands over her mouth and spoke through her fingers. “What about pets?”
Molly narrowed her eyes. “You mean the rabbit he pulled from his hat? David Hopperfield?”
“Wow.” Juliette grinned. “That’s impressive.”
“What was James doing the whole time?” Gertie asked.
Molly scowled. “Being a total dillhole, is what he was doing. Like, he’d come over and ask me if I wanted another drink, then whip a towel out of his sleeve with a flourish—all magicianlike—to wipe down the counters. And once, I caught him at the end of the bar with three upside-down beer glasses, sliding them around one another. He was pretty much teasing me the entire time.”
“Hold on,” Gertie said. “I get that having a date with a magician is a little weird, but maybe underneath it all—”
“No,” Molly said. “The guy had no redeeming qualities. And he never even asked me about myself, except to find out if I was limber.”
“Limber?” Juliette scrunched up her face. “Like, for sexy reasons?”
“Worse. He wanted to know if I could fold myself into a box for his Saw-a-Person-in-Half trick.”
“Okay, that’s kind of creepy,” Emma said.
“Yeah.” Gertie nodded. “It’s a flaming red flag when a guy you just met says he wants to saw you in half, even if it’s pretend.”
“And if that wasn’t enough,” Molly continued, “when James brought over the bar tab? The guy drew a credit card from behind my ear going, ‘Is this your card?’ And surprise! It was my card. He’d somehow taken it from my purse when I wasn’t looking.”
“Oh, screw that guy.” Juliette sliced a hand through the air. “Hard pass.”
“It was a total disaster,” Molly said. “James finally kicked him out, saying rabbits weren’t allowed in the bar. Then he wouldn’t stop laughing at me. I was so annoyed, I wanted to toss my drink at him, but I had already finished it so there was nothing left to throw. That Zombie Mojito he makes is so good. But anyway, I’m still pissed at him. Maybe I’ll go in next weekend and order something huge, like a Long Island Iced Tea, just so I can throw it in his face.”
“Well, it’s always good to have goals,” Juliette said. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out with the magic man.”
Gertie patted Molly on the back. “You’ll find someone, hun. Just give it time. Someone perfect for you.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “I felt like such an idiot. And now James has something to hold over my head. I’m so going to kill him next time I see him.”
“What about you, Emma?” Gertie asked. “You and Hunter are a thing?”
Emma shrugged it off, trying to appear nonchalant. “I wouldn’t call it that. We’re sort of dating, but nothing serious.”
Juliette gave Emma a sideways glance. “I told her just to go for it. I mean, who knows? Maybe things will work out between them.”
“Why shouldn’t they?” Molly said. “It’s high time Emma had someone in her life. A nice someone. And even though he’s a little citified for Pine Cove Island, he’ll settle in.”
Emma felt a strange sense of trepidation come over her. “Don’t get all excited, you guys. We’re just dating for now. I have no intentions of it going anywhere.” But the idea of him settling in and them staying together made her heart spin like a weather vane in a windstorm, no matter how hard she tried to steel herself against it.
Gertie stared in the mirror, arranging her green spiky hair. “Well, it sounds to me like you don’t have a lot of control in this situation. You may not intend it to go anywhere, but be open to the possibility.”
Emma shrugged and pretended to dig through the eyeshadow palettes. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss her possible future with Hunter. She felt bad enough hiding her secret agenda from her well-meaning friends. What would Gertie and Molly think of her if they knew she planned to send him away forever? Juliette was the only one who knew, and the more Emma thought about it, the rottener she felt.
* * *
Later that evening, Emma sat in Juliette’s garden with a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea.
The setting sun lit up the sky with streaks of fuchsia, orange, and gold, casting a rosy glow over the gardens that ran along the edge of the woods. At any other time, Emma would be filled with the usual contentedness that Juliette’s amazing garden instilled. But tonight all she felt was a nagging sense of unease.
“I don’t know, Jules. I’m all conflicted inside. Everything Hunter has been doing for the waterfront businesses has been helpful. Why does he have to be so . . . great? And here we are, two weeks away from the festival. His new restaurant is looking so perfect and chic, and the menu items were posted on the door outside. Everything looks divine. His shop will be the death of me. I know this, yet I can’t seem to stop wanting to be with him.”
Juliette gave her a sympathetic look. “Okay, I understand how you feel, but can I just say one thing? When you’re not stressing about the upcoming festival, you positively glow. Being with him has made you happy again—I can tell. And I know it’s going to be hard for you to send him away, so . . .” She trailed off and gave Emma a pointed look.
“So?”
Juliette shrugged. “What if we don’t send him away? What if you try to somehow make things work between the two of you? We could try to find another way to save the house.”
Emma sighed. “I wish. But I can’t think of any other way to come up with the money I need to pay my overdue mortgage. This festival is usually the big moneymaker that allows me to stay afloat.” She took another sip of tea, leaning her head back against the wicker princess chair that sat out under Juliette’s rose trellis. “In a perfect world, there’d be no overdue bills and no falling-apart house and no empty bank account. Everything would just be roses.”
“And Hunter Kane,” Juliette added.
Emma sighed and plucked a rose from the trellis behind her, breathing it in. Yes. In a perfect world, he would fit into her life. But the world wasn’t perfect. She knew that better than anyone.
So what now?
* * *
Emma poured food into Buddy’s dish in the kitchen, surprised when he didn’t come running. He was snuffling around near his favorite corner of the kitchen cabinet, as usual. For the past several days, the puppy had been scratching near a crack in the woodwork, where Emma assumed he’d seen a mouse.
“What’s so exciting about this corner?” She bent down to stroke his soft fur. “I just fed you and the food is that way.” She pointed to his red dish.
Buddy didn’t go for it; instead he began pawing at the crack in the wall. He suddenly let out a yip of excitement and scratched the cabinet with both paws, tail wagging furiously.
Emma frowned and peered closer to the crack in the woodwork. A tiny corner of parchment stuck out from between the cabinet and wall. She leaned down and gripped the corner with her thumb and forefinger, slowly pulling to reveal a single sheet of weathered paper. The handwriting was so faded, it was barely recognizable, but Emma could tell it was a recipe. The words were scrawled across the top in loopy, formal letters.
She stood, blinking down at the ancient piece of paper. How long had it been stuck back there? The page was yellowed from age and covered in dust. As she blew on it, the dust scattered to reveal the words “Bliss Day” at the top of the page. It looked even older than Emma’s grandmother’s recipes. She flipped through her book and noticed several other recipes—the oldest ones—written in the same hand.
“Wow.” Emma blew out a breath. “Buddy, I think you found a recipe from one of my ancestors.” It wasn’t that unusual to have recipes written on loose leaves of paper. The entire book was filled with handwritten notes tucked here and there. It never ceased to amaze Emma how often she would come across a note or amendment to a recipe that she had never noticed before. It was as if the book held secret chambers and there was always something new to discover.
Emma flipped to her grandmother’s least favorite recipe, “Day of Bliss,” and compared them. The ingredients were exactly the same, until the very last one. Where her grandmother had written over the smudged ink “lavender,” the last ingredient in the older recipe called for “lilac.”
Emma gasped. Was it possible that the recipe never worked for her grandmother because, over the years, one of the ingredients had been accidentally misinterpreted? She scanned the recipes again, matching the ingredients. The only difference was the lavender and lilac.
A soft breeze tickled the hair at her temples and she smiled. “It’s still not going to happen, house. You know I don’t mess with any old spells that call for a ‘dollop’ of this or a ‘shake’ of that. It’s too vague.” She tucked the ancient leaf of paper back into the book and shut it firmly. “Nice touch, by the way, using Buddy. That’s a new tactic.”
Emma walked over to Buddy, who was now joyously scarfing down his puppy chow. She stroked the back of his little head. As alluring as the “Bliss Day” spell seemed, she wasn’t going to risk it. Not only were the ingredients imprecise, her own grandmother had said it only caused heartache. Even if the spell didn’t work because the last ingredient was wrong, there were still so many ways to mess it up, and Emma had enough to worry about without the possibility of another magical mishap.
She thought about the upcoming festival and the plan to mix strong magic with Juliette on summer solstice. It was so unlike her to do anything that crazy, but what other option was there? An unsettling feeling of guilt washed over her and she crossed her arms, hugging herself. The recent picnic with Hunter had been one of the happiest moments she could remember in a very long time. He made her feel things, and it wasn’t just the wild sex they were having, although thinking of that made her skin flush with desire for the umpteenth time that day.
No, it wasn’t only the physical connection. With Hunter, she could be herself. She could tell him things about her childhood and show him who she really was, and he didn’t judge her for it. He listened and accepted. Emma had never had that with another man. But maybe the reason she had it now was because she didn’t feel the need to guard herself. He was leaving soon, anyway. Maybe that’s why she was being so free with her emotions.
But she couldn’t deny that lately, she just wanted to be around him. And the more she accepted how strong her feelings were, the worse she felt.
He wasn’t hers to lose, she had to remember that. When he left and took his business with him, everything would go back to normal. Everything was going to be okay.
“It’s just a fling,” she said out loud.
The teapot on the stove let off a sudden burst of steam. Clearly, the house did not agree.
“It is,” Emma insisted. Maybe if she said it enough times, she’d keep believing it.