A Hint of Magic (2 page)

“How are you?” Parker asked.

“Good,” she replied, wishing desperately that she had something wittier than that to respond with.  She was a woman who put words on a page for a living and yet whenever he was around she seemed to default to one word answers.  That was really only one small step away from making unintelligible grunts like a cavewoman.  It was absurd. 

“I enjoyed your report about the town’s biggest pumpkin,” Parker told her.

“Ha!  You read my paper?”

“Faithfully,” he smiled.

“Well I know it’s not big city news like what you’re used to,” she shrugged, feeling a bit silly.  “But gigantic pumpkins are big news in a small town.  And it was either write about the pumpkin or write yet another article about the potholes over on Ash Drive.”

“I enjoyed those articles too,” Parker said.

For a moment Clarissa couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or being sincere.  She was just about to ask him when he said something that left her feeling completely mortified. 

“I guess you’ve been too busy to go on that date with me.”

Clarissa blinked.  “Pardon?” she asked, her heart sinking.

“Last time I saw you, we planned to do dinner again,” he reminded her.

“You were supposed to call me,” she interjected.  “You didn’t.”  She did her best to keep her tone light.  She hoped she sounded unbothered by the slight.

“I did,” Parker insisted.  “I left a voicemail.”

Clarissa thought for a moment.  Then she smacked her forehead.  “I had a voicemail the night of our date that was pure static.  I couldn’t make out a single word.  It never occurred to me that it might be you.  I thought there’s some dumb dating rule about waiting 48 hours to call?”

“There could be,” Parker agreed.  “But I’ve never been one for mind games.  I called you as soon as I got home from our date.  When I didn’t hear back…well, I just assumed you hadn’t had as much fun as I did.”

“I had fun,” Clarissa said immediately.

“Then I think we should have dinner tomorrow night,” Parker informed her.

“I’d love to but I have plans with my aunt tomorrow.”

“Okay, then how about Saturday night?”

With a sigh, Clarissa informed him, “I promised I’d go to a friend’s Halloween party.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were making excuses,” Parker winked.

“I’m not!” she insisted fervently, even though she knew he was only teasing.  “You should come by the party,” she said.  “It’s at Liana’s place – you’ve met her before. I’ll text you the address.  Oh, and be sure to wear a costume.  She’s big on costumes.”

“Sounds like fun,” Parker grinned.  “I’m glad I ran into you.”

“What brings you to Sugarcomb Lake anyway?” she asked curiously.

“I was hoping to run into you,” he confessed sheepishly.

“I’ve always wanted my very own stalker,” she joked.

“Careful what you wish for,” he laughed.  Then he nodded toward the bakery boxes she was carrying.  “Can I help you carry those to your car?”

“Thanks.  And for the record, they’re not all for me,” Clarissa blushed as he took them from her.

“Even if they were, I wouldn’t tell.”

“That’s me over there,” she told him, pointing out her car. 

They got the bakery boxes loaded into her trunk.  Then they stood there like dummies. 

Clarissa couldn’t help but feel awkward as she gazed up at Parker and struggled to think of something to say.  Why was it she only thought of perfect conversation topics
after
the fact, when she was all alone and unable to charm him?  It was so unfair!

“Well, I should let you get going,” Parker said, retying his expensive looking scarf.  He, unlike Clarissa, had been sensible enough to wear a scarf.  He always managed to make her feel like a complete and utter trainwreck compared to him!

“Wait!” Clarissa said, grabbing the box of gingersnap cookies.  “Here,” she said, opening the lid.

“They look way too good to pass up,” Parker said, extracting a gingersnap from the box and popping it into his mouth.  “Mmm, soft and chewy, just the way I like them!” he said through a mouthful of cookie, giving her a thumbs-up sign. 

“So I’ll see you Saturday night?” Clarissa asked hopefully.

“I’ll be there,” he assured her.  “It sounds like fun.”

“It will be,” Clarissa assured him.  “Liana’s Halloween parties are always the talk of the town.”

The next evening, Clarissa arrived at her aunt’s place not knowing what to expect.

Matilda had been a constant presence in her life back when she had been a child.  Clarissa remembered her being fun and zany.  Matilda had babysat frequently, and had been the world’s coolest aunt ever.

She had always seemed more like a big sister than an aunt.  Maybe it had to do with the fact that she had never quite fit in with the grownups – Matilda was without a doubt the black sheep of the family.  And it had only gotten worse as time had marched on.

When Clarissa had gotten a bit older, Matilda had suddenly vanished from her life.  She had moved abroad to travel and find herself, whatever that meant.  Postcards and letters had dwindled and at some point, communication with Matilda had all but stopped.

It wasn’t until recently that Matilda had turned up in Clarissa’s life again. 

To be exact, she had turned up on Clarissa’s doorstep with a strange gift and an even stranger story.  She had claimed she was a witch and that a lightning strike had granted Clarissa magical powers too.  She had gifted her befuddled niece a book of potions.

The craziest part was that every so often, Clarissa got a spell or two to work.  She didn’t know how to explain that.  It wasn’t the sort of thing that could be dismissed as coincidence, but if that was the case then it meant Matilda was right. 

Clarissa was a witch.  What did that even mean?  What was she supposed to
do
about it?

Clarissa had so many questions that she didn’t even know where to start.

She was relieved when she arrived at her aunt’s condo in Green City and found it was very normal looking.  These days Matilda was a college instructor.  Perhaps she was a bit less eccentric now than she had been in her younger, wilder years. 

Though to be fair, the woman looked as though she hadn’t aged a day!  She was in her forties but could easily pass for one of her students.  How did she manage to look half her age?  If that wasn’t witchcraft, then what was?

Matilda had the same long, thick hair as Clarissa, though hers was more auburn than chestnut.  She had high cheekbones, perfectly arched eyebrows and pale, unblemished skin.  As a child Clarissa had idolized her pretty, free spirited aunt.  Maybe on some level she still did.

But Clarissa was still wary of her aunt’s bizarre claims.

“You brought chocolate croissants!” Matilda exclaimed excitedly.

“And gingersnaps,” Clarissa pointed out, pleased by her aunt’s appreciative reaction.  “There are a few slices of pumpkin loaf, too.”  She didn’t mention the chocolate chip cookies.  There was no need to, as they were no longer in existence.  They had been her breakfast…and lunch. 

“Sit,” Matilda said, gesturing to the kitchen table.  She plucked her oven mitts from the kitchen counter and put them on.  “I’m just going to check on the enchiladas.  Oh, it’s so good to have you here.  I’ve missed you, kid.  Did you find the place alright?”

“Yeah,” Clarissa nodded, leaving out the fact that her journey had involved much speeding, a few illegal turns and a healthy dose of road rage.  That was just par for the course any time Clarissa Spencer was behind the wheel!

Matilda finished up in the kitchen.  She set the enchiladas – which looked and smelled delicious – onto the dining room table next to a fresh garden salad.  Then she untied her apron, tossed the oven mitts aside and sat down across from Clarissa.

“I’m sure you must have a million questions for me,” Matilda said, cutting right to the chase.

“I…don’t even know where to start,” Clarissa admitted.

“How do you like your book of potions?”

Clarissa swallowed hard.  “Sometimes I think that it’s fun.  Other times it scares me.  How does it work?” she asked.  “I’ve made objects levitate – usually only for a second or two, but I’ve seen it with my own eyes.  And I’ve made the clock turn backwards,” she confessed in a whisper.

“It’s magic,” Matilda said as though that explained everything.  “It defies logic.  It defies science.  It just works.  And it’s up to you to use it responsibly.  As long as you’re careful, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“What happens if I’m not careful?”

Matilda gave her a sharp look.  “You must be careful,” she said sternly, in a manner that was uncharacteristic of her normal carefree demeanor.  “It’s fine to have fun with magic, but you need to respect it.  For every action, there is a consequence.”

Clarissa gulped.  “What do you mean?” she asked, surprised by her aunt’s ominous words.

“It’s no different than teaching a teenager to drive,” Matilda explained.  “Cars are useful but they can also be dangerous.  It’s my job to guide you until you get a feel for it.  As long as you stick to the potions near the front of the book, you should be fine.”

“What am I supposed to do with this…this…gift of magic?” Clarissa asked, unsure of how to phrase it.  “Like, what am I supposed to, you know,
use
it for?”

“That’s entirely up to you,” Matilda smiled, visibly relaxing. 

Then she started giggling at what was apparently a private joke.  What began as a few titters quickly progressed to full-blown belly laughs.  For a brief instant, she seemed crazy – that is, until she let Clarissa in on the recollection that had her in near-hysterics.

“One time in college I had an idiot of a boyfriend,” Matilda confided between guffaws.  “He left me for some floozy who lived in the dorms, right down the hall from me.  I’d see them together pretty much on a daily basis.”

“That’s awful,” Clarissa grimaced.  “Um, why do you seem to find it funny?”

“I put a curse on him,” Matilda said simply.  “He had horrible flatulence for an entire semester.”

“Oh my,” Clarissa gasped, equal parts amused and horrified.  “What about his new girlfriend?”

“The flatulence curse was probably worse for her than it was for him,” Matilda theorized.

Clarissa burst out laughing at that.  “That’s downright wicked!”

“What can I say?  I’m a wicked witch,” Matilda grinned.  “But,” she quickly cautioned, “I don’t recommend using your powers for spite.  Well, not unless it’s a harmless little prank like mine.  Like I said, for every action, there’s a reaction.  The universe is all about balance.  Nothing is without consequence.”

“I’m still not quite sure I follow.”

“The entire month I put the flatulence curse on my ex-boyfriend, I had the worst allergies,” Matilda said.  “At first I chalked it up to being a coincidence, but I couldn’t get any relief no matter what I did…until I lifted the curse.  Then my allergies cleared right up.”

Clarissa’s eyes widened.  “That’s spooky!”

“I forget sometimes that you’re not used to any of this,” Matilda admitted.  “To me, it’s normal.  But I’ve been exposed to magic since I was a child.  You…well your parents went a different direction with raising you kids.”

“What do you mean you were exposed to magic?” Clarissa asked curiously.

“Didn’t you know?  My mother used to read tea leaves.”

“Grandma read tea leaves?  She’s never mentioned that.”

“She stopped doing it before you were born,” Matilda explained.  “And don’t ever bring it up with her, either.  She’ll act like she doesn’t know what you’re talking about if you do.”

“Why?”

“She didn’t like what she saw.”

A chill ran up Clarissa’s spine.  “Maybe it’s best I leave this magic stuff alone.”

“It’s up to you,” Matilda shrugged.  “I’m not going to tell you what to do.  Only you can decide.”

“I’ve had fun dabbling here and there, but you keep talking about consequences…”

“I’m not trying to scare you.  I’m only trying to prepare you.  Think of this as the part of Driver’s Ed where they make you watch gory videos of car crashes to scare you into driving carefully.  I’m your gory car crash video.”

“That’s a lovely mental image,” Clarissa said wryly.

“Do they still show those videos, by the way?  For all I know, you might have no idea what I’m talking about right now.  Ugh, high school was a million years ago for me.  I feel so old!” Matilda complained, even though she certainly didn’t look it.

“How come I haven’t noticed any consequences for the little bit of magic I’ve performed?” Clarissa asked curiously.  “I’ve made things levitate – sort of.  And I’ve made a few potions.”

“Let me guess: they were spells from the front of the potion book.  Those are considered to be rather minor, inconsequential spells.  Maybe you sneezed after performing one or maybe the wind changed directions.  The point is, you probably wouldn’t have noticed.”

“I see.  But the spells at the back…?”

“They come at a steeper price,” Matilda confirmed.  “But enough magic talk.  Let’s eat!”

***

“Oh Cat,” Clarissa groaned later that evening as she waddled in the front door.  “I am so stuffed!  I ate more enchiladas than any one person should ever eat in a sitting.  I think I probably broke some kind of world record.  And now I can hardly move!”

The cat, whose name was Cat, looked wholly unsympathetic.  If anything, it was probably angry that she hadn’t brought any enchiladas home.  The spoiled little monster turned its nose up at cat food, but was more than happy to devour Clarissa’s food.

“Were you good while I was away?” Clarissa asked.

The cat stared up at her defiantly, apparently pleading the fifth.

For such a tiny critter, it sure had a lot of attitude.

The little black ball of fluff had wormed its way into Clarissa’s life.  It had turned up at her place as a stray and had refused to leave.  So she now had a squatter in her home.  But the cat acted more like royalty than a homeless mooch.

Though Clarissa was really more of a dog person than a cat lover, she had to admit that her unwanted companion was growing on her.  Well, sometimes.  It depended on the day, really.

When Clarissa returned after being out, she could count on the house being in one of two states.

Sometimes it was exactly as she had left it.  It was an indication that the cat had spent the entire time she was away sleeping in the sun.  The amount of time that thing spent napping was infuriating!  It made Clarissa all kinds of jealous, especially now that she was in a chronically sleep-deprived state.

Sometimes, however, the cat didn’t sleep while Clarissa was away.

Those were the days she came home to torn curtains, knocked over plants and scratched up furniture.  The feisty feline was apparently determined to destroy Clarissa’s house.  She theorized that it enjoyed watching her clean up the messes it made.  It was probably some sort of sick power trip on the cat’s part.

“Meow,” said the cat.

Clarissa knew exactly what that tone meant: it was the food-demanding tone.  By the way her furry companion carried on, one would think it was starving.  But actually, it must have been the best fed stray in history.  It probably ate better than Clarissa herself did!

“Okay, let me see what we’ve got,” Clarissa said, walking over to the fridge.  She opened it up, stuck her head inside and poked around a bit.  There was half a tuna sandwich, leftover pasta from the great little restaurant on Main Street and a container of yogurt.

To save time, Clarissa pulled all three from the fridge and let the cat inspect them.  She knew she was only reinforcing bad behavior, but she had work to do!  She couldn’t afford to stand there for twenty minutes trying one food after another, desperately attempting to coax the picky eater into ingesting something.

As it turned out, the cat wanted the pasta
and
the yogurt. 

Once the spoiled feline was busy wolfing down its feast, Clarissa hurried over to her computer.  She fully expected to pull another all-nighter.  She pretty much had to.  She had so much work to do and so little time!  But that was the life of a journalist: there was always a deadline to meet. 

She wouldn’t trade it for anything.