Page 4 of Kiss and Spell
Well, at least he got his happy ending.
Ursula let out a noisy, sharp breath—that somehow in this universe, Lincoln must’ve heard through the glass. He turned toward the window and stiffened when he recognized her.
Shame rushed through her and heated every inch of her skin. She jerked back, and her arm connected with the crystal ball, knocking it off its base. Customers shouted as it tumbled over the table’s edge, and Ursula dove from her seat, barely saving the precious item from shattering on the floor. Panic raced through her, and she sat immobile on the floor until her heart rate settled down. The crystal ball had belonged to Great-Aunt Lulu, and it had been passed to Ursula. She cradled the heirloom against her chest. Lately, all she seemed to be talented at was breaking things. When will you stop being so careless?
“Sula, beloved,” Mama said. Ursula glanced up. Mama’s eyes were gentle as she approached. “Take a break. Get something to eat. I’ll watch the table.”
Mama carefully took the crystal ball from Ursula’s hands and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. The shop was eerily silent. Ursula nodded. She stood, grabbed her purse from behind the counter, and left the shop, avoiding their customers’ worried stares.
A quick glance down the street confirmed that Lincoln had hurried away from the shop with his boo-thang. Ursula walked in the opposite direction. A few people gave her curious looks as they passed her on the sidewalk. She was, for lack of a better phrase, internet famous and there wasn’t a ghoul, ghost, or enchanter in the Grove who didn’t know her cautionary tale. Ursula knew what question everyone asked themselves when they saw her around town.
How much of a psychic could she be if she didn’t know? She must’ve had a feeling!
Of course, she had a feeling. Everyone had feelings, but she couldn’t just follow them because things felt off between her and Lincoln. On paper they were the storybook couple, the town prince falling in love with the local witch. How sweet! But when it came to her magic, Lincoln had questioned whether she needed it. He had raised a silent brow whenever Ursula dabbed her honeysuckle and sunflower oil perfume on her wrists. He had given her an earful when she’d suggested growing an herb garden in the kitchen, claiming that she was being held back by outdated superstition. Ursula bit her lip until it ached. His words reminded her of the conversations she overheard between her parents. Dad’s urgent words echoed in her memory: Niesha, if you love me, don’t do your witchy thing with my family. Leave the crystal beads at home. Don’t wear all that lavender. You’ve got to love me more. Be stronger than the magic.
Rather than be forced to choose between her craft or their relationship, Ursula chose Lincoln before he even asked her to make a choice. However, the magic still called to her, and the very last spell she cast was the one that ruined her life.
In the end, Ursula learned the hard way that happy endings were never meant for witches.
Chapter Two
People were coming home to the Grove. Downtown, with its antique lampposts and bare trees, was filled with the early evening traffic. Shoppers cradled crocheted totes heavy with fresh produce and foodstuffs. Commuters ambled from the transportation center, their clothes wrinkled from their travels. By this time, the golden hour was on its way, giving buildings a shiny metallic glow that filled Ursula with a muted feeling of anticipation—it was time to treat herself to something cheesy and delicious. Ursula went to Mimi’s Diner and ordered the Shore Nachos, avoiding eye contact with curious diners and trying to ignore their not-so-hushed conversations.
“Is the Ren fair in town?”
“No, that’s Ms. Niesha’s daughter who works down at that feather shop.”
“Oh, that is her. Tsk. It’s terrible what happened to her…”
Ursula tuned out the rest of their talk, but fatigue had already settled in. I don’t want to be the main attraction in this spooky town anymore. Once her order was called and her to-go bag arrived, Ursula hustled out of the diner.
She walked until she reached the waterfront. Gulls squawked and coasted overhead. The sand was bare, absent of colorful towels and beach chairs. It was the off-season, so the Grove’s boardwalk was sparsely populated with a few people walking around bundled up in their light spring coats. A few storefronts were closed with blue and white SEE YOU IN THE SUMMER! signs dangling above their doors. A chilly breeze came over Ursula and gave her goose bumps.
The wood bench was cold underneath her when she sat down.
She’d once hated going to the beach, haunted by the memories of carefree days, but now this place comforted her. Nana Ruth, rest her soul, always called Ursula her beach baby when she was small. While the cousins splashed and played in the waves, Ursula scooped up sand in her purple bucket and pail. She made sandcastles, decorating them with broken seashells and driftwood. On those summer days, she imagined that she ruled a kingdom where witches could become queens of the night. As she grew older, Ursula lied to everyone and said that she couldn’t be bothered with the beach. The sand had once given shape to her childhood dreams that intimately crumbled under the weight of adult responsibility. Now the sand reminded her of the innate magic that flowed in her veins, the same magic that she ignored in an effort to be someone normal. Someone who could be loved by a man like Lincoln.
She shook off those melancholy thoughts. It was time for Jersey-style nachos.
Ursula ate her dinner while watching the waves crash against the sand. The spring equinox was upon them. The earth was waking up from its slumber, but Ursula felt confined in a dreamless sleep. She worked so hard at her job and maintaining her life that she didn’t even have the energy to dream anymore. It was time to wake up and make plans. Every time she went to make a new life list, Ursula froze, the cold dread of indecision keeping her from doing anything meaningful.
But this time that same dreadful feeling had lessened greatly, and she felt eager.
A voice inside asked the million-dollar question, So, what’s different this time?
Seeing Lincoln outside her window living free of their past made her feel angry and a little jealous. Why couldn’t she just move on? The memory of her not-wedding day lay heavy around her neck like a massive statement necklace made with uncut ruby crystals. She couldn’t take it off, and it was on display for the world to see. For years, Ursula molded herself into the woman she thought was perfect. Flawless. Respectable. She’d transformed herself into the partner she figured Lincoln needed by his side.
He still left.
Ursula cringed at the woman she had been last summer. She couldn’t forget the worst version of herself, the pastels and pearl-wearing menace of Freya Grove. The Ursula who heartlessly threatened loved ones with hexes. The Ursula who swallowed her true feelings and smiled until her face burned. The Ursula who gave up her magic as easily as strangers dropped well-loved clothes into donation bins just for the sake of being normal. She didn’t want to be the person she once was; she needed to be better. The same way a hermit crab moved from shell to shell, Ursula needed a new role to inhabit. One that would be hers alone. Not the perfect wife. Not the ideal woman. Someone special.
I want to feel magical again.
Ursula picked at the soggy chips at the bottom of the container, thinking of her next steps. No more daydreaming about hermit crabs. It was time to plan.
She finished eating and folded up the container. The lingering gulls gobbled up what crumbs she left behind on the planks. Ursula took her phone from her purse and opened the digital planner app Planner Bae. The screen glowed in the dark of the impending evening. She clicked through the digital pages of the last several weeks, each day filled with the same routine. Wake up. Work at the shop. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Was this routine the rest of her life?
Last winter, she switched from a massive paper planner to a digital app to jump-start her hunger for life. It didn’t work. Irritation bubbled up in her throat and stayed there. She had made perfect plans—but what did she have to show for it now? An empty heart, a near-empty bank account, and barely enough magic to get her out of bed in the morning.