Page 3 of Hallows End
“She’ll be here in a little while,” I continue as I add the yellow flowers to my basket. “We’ll have a nice visit with her before we open the shop for the day.”
Nera shuffles his big feet in excitement, and I lean over to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“I know, Breena’s your favorite—besides me, of course.” I kiss him again. “Right?”
Nera nuzzles my shoulder.
“I thought so. Come on. We have to get these into the oven to dry.”
I already preheated the oven, so I gently lay the blooms on their trays and slide them onto the racks, then pour myself another mug of coffee, stir in the creamer, and head for the bedroom to dress for the day.
I’m partial to greens and orange and pull a flowy orange dress from the closet. Customers expect to see the witch of the house dressing the part, and it’s lucky for them that I enjoy feminine clothes with an edgy, mystical look to them.
I tease my long, red hair into a braid, weave twine with bells into it for fun and cleansing, and then slide my feet into my shoes, just as I hear Breena’s voice call out for me.
Nera immediately abandons me for her, and I smile as I follow him out to the kitchen.
“Good morning,” I say with a laugh as Nera rubs himself against Breena, almost knocking her over.
“Hi,” she says and scratches Nera’s side until I think he might lie down in sheer happiness. “And good morning to you, sweet boy. I brought you a goody. Yes, I did.”
Breena comes over at least twice a week to stock up on things for her practice and leaves behind gifts in exchange. We worked out this barter system years ago.
There are three of us first cousins, all girls, and of the three of us, Breena is the brightest. The innocent one. She is the epitome of a hearth witch, always at the ready to take care of us all. She makes her wares out of love as well as plants, fibers, and elbow grease.
“I’m trying out a new syrup,” Breena informs me and pulls a tall bottle from her bag, setting it on the counter. “It has honeysuckle. I think you’ll like it. And for my favorite boy, I made peanut butter treats.”
Nera whimpers in excitement and sits with the manners of a gentleman as he waits for his biscuit.
“He has you wrapped around his huge paw,” I inform her dryly and take a sip of my coffee. “Need some caffeine?”
“Yes, please,” she says happily and boosts herself onto the stool by the kitchen island. She gazes around the room and then smiles at me.
“What?”
“I never know what to expect when I come in here,” she says with a shrug. “Some days, you have roses or sunflowers hanging upside down to dry. Other times, you have herbs in the oven.”
“Like today.”
Breena nods, sips her coffee, and then wrinkles her nose and reaches for my sugar bowl. She ladles in two teaspoons and then sets the spoon to stirring clockwise—without using her hands.
I smile and wonder what her stirring deasil is meant to bring to her.
“I’ve always loved your kitchen,” she continues with a sigh and rests her chin on her hand. “It’s warm, and it smells good.”
“How’s the ivy seedling I sent home with you last week?”
Her smile falls, and she looks down into her coffee.
“Breena.”
“You’re the green witch,” she reminds me. “And youknowthat I’m hopeless when it comes to plants. I can knit you a sweater or bake you a pie, but I can’t keep green things alive.”
“Bring it over. I’ll save it,” I reply and lean against the counter. “You’re the one who said you’d like a plant for your mantel. Ivy is practically impossible to kill.”
“Well, if you ever need to have some offed, I’m your girl,” she says. “I have a question.”
“Shoot.”