Easy Bake Coven: Book One of the Vivienne Finch Magical Mysteries (16 page)

“I’m
dying for a decent salad to nibble on. Seems most of these little towns thrive
on the quaint greasy spoons.”

“They
have wonderful salads there.” Vivienne recalled her last visit to the bistro
with her mother back in June. The salad was decent sized and quite colorful,
but she hardly felt that justified the twelve dollar cost. Like many of the
businesses and boutiques in town, the Bistro relied on the opened designer
purses of Fiona and her ilk. The owner rarely left his home in Boston, instead
trusting the day to day operation to his executive chef,
Valentin
Macias.

With
their purchases complete, Fiona approached Kathy one last time. “Would you be a
lamb and have these sent over to the
Brass
Cricket Inn
?”

Kathy,
having taken in well over fifteen hundred dollars in sales from the group, put
on her best fake smile. “It would be my pleasure to do that.”

Fiona
handed her back the garment bag and rounded her clique up much like a dog
herding sheep. “Thank you most kindly.”

They
filed out in unison, like soldiers off to war. Fiona bundled her black woolen
shawl over her shoulders and stepped out into the cool autumn air. After a
quick check of her bearings, she led her troop off to the next destination.

“Thank
you most kindly.” Kathy mocked and razzed them with her tongue.

Vivienne
burst out into a gale of laughter. “I have to admit, you kept your cool
surprisingly well.”

“These
are examples of who Mona wanted to bring here regularly?” Vivienne huffed.

“They
might not be the friendliest lot, but you have to admit they dropped a nice
chunk of change.” Vivienne doubted they would have even set foot in her palace
of carbohydrates.

“That’s
true.” Kathy glanced at all the dresses and shopping bags scattered on the
counter where the ladies had left them. “They’ve certainly helped me to reach
my monthly sales goal.”

“Need
some help taking this over to the inn?”

“Sure.
But not until after you try on that outfit I told you about.” Kathy ducked down
behind the counter and pulled out a stunning jade green racer back dress. “What
do you think?”

“It’s
lovely.” She ran her hands along the fabric. “But our date is hardly this
formal. I’m bringing dinner over to his house tonight.”

Kathy’s
jaw dropped. “Say what?”

“I
thought you’d be proud?” Vivienne puzzled. “What better way to find out more
about him than seeing where he lives?”

Kathy
folded her arms across her chest. “That Fiona woman was right. We are just a
bunch of hay seeds here.”

Vivienne
sighed. “We’re just keeping things easy going for now.”

“Are
you going to seal the deal by crocheting him a gun cozy too?”

“I’ll
save that for the third date.” Vivienne joked. “Better make that the fourth,
since I can’t crochet worth a damn.”

Kathy
smiled at her friend and took the dress back. “All I’m saying is that your next
date better require the use of this little number.”

“It
will.” Vivienne promised. “Speaking of formal affairs, I wonder why Mona’s
service is being kept private.”

“Probably
because they knew no one from town was going to bother to attend.”

“I’m
serious.” Vivienne sighed. “She was always so outgoing and in the spotlight. It
just seems strange to have her laid to rest without a fuss.”

“I
guess that’s what Richard wanted.” Kathy took a seat on the stool behind her
counter. “It hardly seems like something Mona would want, though.”

“She
was many things, but a shrinking Samantha wasn’t one of them.” Vivienne agreed.

“You
can say that again.” Kathy agreed.

The
afternoon passed fairly quickly for Vivienne as she helped her friend deliver
the fashionable mourners purchases to the
Brass
Cricket Inn
, completed her tasks at the bakery, dropped off some bills to
be mailed at the post office, and finally settled into the little oak dinette
set in her home kitchen to figure out what to make for dinner.

She
had poured over several of the cookbooks and after considering the prep times
and the ingredients available in her fridge and pantry, decided upon a simple
baked macaroni and cheese. It was comforting and delicious and most importantly
it was easy to keep warm in her oven while she prepared for their second date.

Lacking
a quality smoked cheddar to elevate her creation, Vivienne resorted to one of
the few pieces of cooking advice from her Mother. If you can cheat the flavor,
go for it. No one but you will be the wiser. She frantically searched her spice
rack and came upon the little brown bottle. “I knew you’d come in handy sooner
or later.” She shook a few drops of liquid smoke into the cheese sauce and
stirred it ever-so-carefully into the bubbling orange mixture. She smiled and
fanned the steam that rose from her stainless pot toward her nose. Joshua was
going to be putty in her hands after eating this.

After
combining the pasta with the sauce and pouring it into one of her vintage
harvest gold casserole dishes, she sprinkled the top with bread crumbs and
placed it in the oven.

As
she about to set the timer, there was a loud scratching sound from outside the
kitchen window. In the dim twilight, she saw a pair of yellow eyes watching
her. With a frightened gasp, she nearly backed into the gas burners.

“Meow.”

She
instinctively placed her hands over her heart which had skipped a few beats.
“Mister Tom Cat?”

“Meow.”
He yowled back and scratched at her screen with his front paws.

She
crossed over to the window and saw that he had climbed the little white trellis
where her morning glories had bloomed all summer. Straddling the wooden diamond
pattern planks with his back paws, he blinked a few times. “How did you find
your way here?”

He
jumped down to the grass and then darted toward her front lawn.

Intrigued,
she followed to the front door and found him sitting on her stoop looking up
with those inquisitive golden eyes. “You are nothing if not persistent.”

Against
her better judgment, she opened the door and he immediately darted up and
rubbed back and forth along her legs. He curled his long tail around her
calves, purring ever more loudly.

She
could feel the nip in the evening air as the temperature dropped. The forecast
had called for a heavy frost tonight and she hated to think of him shivering
outside without a blanket or a lap to sit upon. “Why me?” She asked him. “There
must be a hundred families in town who have room for a new house cat.”

“Meow.”
He answered back between purrs.

She
gestured to her living room. “Come on in.”

He
placed one paw on the threshold and paused for a moment, as if weighing the
consequences of going inside. No doubt he had been on the streets for some time
and was not accustomed to being anywhere where there wasn’t a quick escape
should danger pop up.

As
the heat poured out her front door, she put her hands on her hips. “You have to
choose in or out, Mister Tom Cat. I don’t have time to stand here all night and
heat the neighborhood.”

He
jumped into the living room and immediately began to smell the sofa.

She
shut the door and watched as he started to place his paws on the side panel of
the fabric. “If you scratch that you’ll be spending the night outside.”

He
regarded the tone of her voice and then stepped away from the sofa. He curled
his tail around his body and sat down on the carpet.

“That’s
more like it.” She smiled and petted his head. “But in the morning you’re going
back outside.”

“Meow.”
He seemed to protest the arrangement.

“Don’t
try to sweet talk me.” She teased and then looked at the wall clock. She had
less than an hour to shower, pick an outfit, do up her hair and makeup, and be
over at Joshua’s. “I’m running late puss. You’ll have to fend for yourself for
a few hours.”

He
jumped up onto the sofa and nestled into the small throw pillows creating a
little nest. He winked at her and then curled into a comfortable position to
enjoy a warm nap.

Not
having a litter box or even litter for that matter, she had to improvise as
there was no time to go to the store. She rummaged through her cupboards and
found a disposable sheet cake tin. Filling it was plain quick cook oats, she
hoped it would serve as a proxy bathroom should Tom Cat require one. She also
filled a small salad bowl with water and left it nearby in case he required a
drink.

As
she jumped into the shower and let the warm water dance across her skin, she
felt the tension of the day slide away like the shower gel bubbles. She
lingered a bit longer than she knew she should, but it was no soak in the
garden tub either. That was one of her pure pleasures after a long day, along
with a bath pillow and a good paperback book. But she didn’t have time for that
right now.

Wrapped
in fluffy towels, she poked around her bedroom closet for a casual yet flattering
outfit and after much debate decided upon a pair of boot-cut denim jeans and a
cream colored v-neck sweater. As she admired her image in the mirror, she was
pleased that the look turned out exactly like she had hoped.

Guiding
the brush carefully through her auburn locks, she shaped it into her usual
style and went about putting on her makeup. Although Kathy usually went for
more bold looks, Vivienne had always been a fan of the ‘less is more’ feel. She
took care to eliminate shine with matte powder and enhance her cheekbones with
a hint of blush. It wasn’t exactly a runway model look, but it served her well
for many years. She was about to choose a pair of earrings when suddenly the
smoke detector went off in the kitchen with a shrill pierce. “I forgot to set
the timer.” She jumped up from her vanity.

As
she ran to the kitchen a thin veil of white smoke poured from the crevices of
the oven and she grabbed a dishtowel and waved it frantically at the detector.

Tom
Cat growled, his hair standing on end from the kitchen doorway. His tail had
puffed out to twice its normal size.

Without
thinking, she turned off the oven, turned on the range hood fan, and flicked on
the interior light to survey the damage. The macaroni and cheese looked like
lumps of coal. “Oh, not tonight.” She groaned. “Not this meal.” She retrieved
the smoldering heap from the oven rack and set it upon the grates above the gas
burners.

As
the smoke detector ceased its racket, Tom Cat relaxed and jumped up onto the
dinette set. He meowed a few times and rubbed his head against the
grimoire
, which lay open.

“Where
did that come from?” Vivienne asked him. “I could have sworn I left it at the
bakery.” She stared at the pages which she had never seen before. It was the
section right after the first journal entry which had looked like a jumble of
strange symbols previously. There was a hand-drawn image of a clock face and
what looked like corn-husk brooms sweeping counter-clockwise around it. The
words ‘Tempus
Revocare
’ were scrawled three times below
the image.

“Tempus
Revocare
.” She read aloud. It was Latin, but her
understanding of the dead language was rusty at best. She had wanted to take it
in high school, but Mother insisted she take something easier like Spanish
instead. They don’t even use Latin in the masses during church anymore, Nora
rationalized. “Tempus
Revocare
.” She repeated again.
The first word meant time. She knew that because Nana Mary had a grandmother
clock that had the words ‘Tempus Fugit’ inscribed on the brass face. It meant time
flies. “Tempus
Revocare
.” She repeated as a rush of
cold air swirled into the kitchen.

Expecting
to see the window open, she reached to close it only to find it already sealed
and locked. The rush of wind pulled the vestiges of smoke from the ceiling and
created a miniature funnel cloud that swirled and danced above her head.
Vivienne stared in wonder as the tempest danced over to the oven and focused on
the burnt macaroni and cheese. As the tendrils of smoke disappeared, so did the
burned black color. It faded away to bright orange which then faded to a light
brown. The tiny vortex seeped into the pasta and disappeared.

Tom
Cat looked at Vivienne and then smacked his lips with his tongue.

She
carefully stepped over to the stove and gasped in shock. The macaroni and
cheese was perfectly cooked with just a touch of brown on the bread crumb
topping. “I don’t believe it.” She rubbed her eyes in disbelief. “This can’t be
real.”

“Meow.”
Tom Cat argued and jumped down from the dinette set onto the floor.

She
sat down by the
grimoire
, eyeing the book with new
awe. There was no denying what had just happened. Despite all her attempts to
explain with logic and science, she was left no choice but to accept what Nana
Mary had told her earlier in the day. It was indeed witchcraft and she was most
certainly a witch.