No Shoes, No Shirt, No Spells (Mystic Cafe Series) (2 page)

When I was a few steps away, the electric-like charge hit me. The energy surrounded him and glided toward me, circling me like an invisible dust storm. It seemed so real, I expected sparks to fly. With heavy legs and forced steps, I moved closer until I’d reached the edge of the table. A dab of water splashed over the side of the glass as I placed it in front of him.

“
Welcome to Mystic Café.” My voice wavered.

When he peered up at me, his energy slapped me in the face. The shock from this feeling made me suck in a sharp breath. The stress came off him in waves. He needed to relax in the worst way.

I handed him the menu. “I’ll be back in a second to get your order.”

He waved a hand. “No need. I already know what I’d like.”

“
Oh, okay. What can I get you?” I tried to sound more confident.

He handed back the menu. “I’ll have the biscuits and gravy, and a cup of coffee.”

“
Coming right up.” I spun around and hurried back toward the kitchen, almost giddy from the adrenaline of feeling his emotions.

Grandma watched from the kitchen window with a smile plastered on her face.

“
Well?” she asked when I pushed through the swinging door.

“
I felt something. I actually felt something.” I attempted to catch my breath. “I can’t believe it. You may be right about this magic stuff.”

“
May be? Honey, I know I’m right. So tell me what you felt.”

“
Stress. I felt lots of stress, as if he needs a breather…and a vacation.”

She slid the book in front of me. “Okay, so look in the book for a little somethin’ to reduce stress.”

I flipped through the pages until I found a spell that might fit. Large calligraphy print covered the space with a scrolled symbol at the top. I studied the yellow-tinged page.

“
This doesn’t add up. The book looks old, but the wording is modern.” I looked at grandma.

“
They update it periodically.”

“
Of course they do.” I clicked my tongue. “But who are
they
?”

“
The overseers of magic…but we won’t get into that just now. That’s a conversation for another day.”

It seemed as if that was kind of an important detail to leave for a later discussion, but I didn’t press the issue.

“
This whole thing makes my head swim.”

“
It confused me at first, too, but you have to do this for me. I need a break from cooking. You don’t want your dear grandma to work herself to death, do you?”

She knew my weakness. The guilt of saying no would cause me a slow, agonizing death. “Okay, Grandma, I’ll do it. Don’t worry about a thing.”

I knew she had doubts in spite of her upbeat attitude to the contrary. I had doubts too, but my protestations would be fruitless. I might as well start flippin’ pancakes and fryin’ chicken legs.

“
Okay, this one says
Vacation in a Jiffy
. That’s a real spell? It sure beats the heck out of a Carnival Cruise, if it is,” I deadpanned.

She winked. “It’s in the book, isn’t it?”

“
Well, I can’t believe my eyes, but yes, it sure is.” I nodded. “So what do I do now?”

She pointed at the book. “What does it say to do?”

“
It lists magic spices.”

Grandma’s many bracelets jingled as she moved to the other side of the kitchen. “I have all the spices in the cabinet over here. I take out what I need and apply them to the food the customer orders. What did he order?” She placed her hands on her hips.

“
Biscuits and gravy,” I murmured.

Her eyes lit up. “Makes my mouth water. You know, the biscuits recipe came from my great-grandmother.”

“
Did she perform magic?”

“
Yes, she did, and from what I’ve heard, she was darn good at it. Okay…” She clapped her hands together. “Put the biscuits on the plate and cover ’em with a healthy dose of gravy, then sprinkle the appropriate spices on top.”

“
Just like that? That’s all I do?” I placed biscuits around the plate and covered them until it looked like nothing but a plate of thick white gravy.

“
Just like that,” she said.

My mouth watered, too. Grandma’s gravy had always been one of my favorites—with little bits of sausage and pepper, seasoned to perfection. Yum. Okay, so I had a ton of food favorites, but that’s what they made treadmills and gym memberships for, right?

“
Okay.” She clapped her hands. “Do you have the right spices? Always make sure you double check. You wouldn’t want the wrong person to get the wrong magic.”

“
Would it hurt? I mean, everyone can use less stress in their life, right?”

“
You’d be surprised. Sure, everyone can use less stress, but it may not always have the best outcome. What if the person is all worked up because of financial problems and you give them magic for stress for love reasons, that would make the person still stressed, but in love with money. Does that make sense?”

“
I think so…” Not really, but I didn’t want to worry her further.

“
It’s always best to leave the magic for the intended receiver, unless it’s just one of the general spells.”

I nodded. “Okay, general spell, but for the person it’s meant for.” Would that still make it a general spell? Never mind, I didn’t ask. It would only make my head hurt worse.

“
So put spices on top,” she nudged with a touch of her hand.

My hands shook as I stretched my arm forward. The bottle slipped from my grasp, bouncing off the stovetop and tumbling to the floor. It landed with a thud. Spices littered the ground. I let out a breathy little gasp.

“
Grandma,” I said as I picked the bottle from the floor.

“
Yes, sweetheart.” She reached for the broom and began sweeping without saying a word about my clumsiness.

I inhaled a sharp breath and nearly dropped the bottle again.

“
I was going to ask what happens when the spices run out…but I think I got my answer.” Almost the entire bottle’s contents had spattered onto the floor, but as I held the little glass container, they reappeared before my eyes.

“
They don’t run out. They’re magic.”

“
Right. Of course. Magic.”

“
When they get low, they just replenish.” She clicked her tongue.

“
I see that.”

Tightening my grip, I reached forward and sprinkled the spices across the food. The gravy popped, crackled, and sparked. It sounded like the pop rock candy I ate as a child, except the sizzling sound wasn’t just in my head. Blue and red lights flashed in a spectacular mini light show. Grandma grabbed my arm and stuck my hand over the top of the food. Tiny zaps of electricity poked at my palm.

I jumped back and clutched my chest. “Oh my gosh. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Grandma chuckled.

“
Can the customers hear or see that?” I looked toward the dining area.

“
They can’t hear or see what’s going on back here, don’t worry about it. Don’t forget to recite the words from the spell.”

“
Right.” I cleared my throat and studied the page. This had better work, or he’d end up in some vacation hell somewhere. Like a no-carbs-allowed retreat or an antiquing weekend getaway with his wife—every man’s worst nightmare.

“
Time for rest, time for play, take him from this stress into a place of hope and quietude. So mote it be.”

“
Excellent, Elly.” She draped her arm around my shoulders and squeezed.

“
Is that all I do?” My expression must have shown my confusion. “Seems kind of simple. I thought there would be more to it than that.”

“
For that particular spell, yes, but some spells have words to recite, while others allow you to speak from the heart, adding your own words. Trust your grandmother, dear. You’ll get the hang of things in no time. Oh, and one more thing, always stir clockwise to ensure the spell works. Because that’s the direction the sun moves and you’ll want to use the earth’s energy.”

No offense to my grandmother, but she should have started these magical lessons a long time ago. I hesitated before picking up the plate, afraid that I’d be electrocuted or disappear into a puff of smoke.

“
It won’t hurt you. Pick it up.” She nudged my elbow.

Why couldn’t the spell casting be as easy as a twitch of my nose complete with a cute little tinkle sound? I grabbed the plate and marched through the kitchen door with the man’s food stretched way out in front of me as if it was a dirty diaper of contaminated poo-poo. I placed it on the counter in order to grab a mug for the coffee. I prayed I’d make it to the table without dumping the contents on the man’s lap. My hands shook and my heart thumped loudly in my ears. Guilt must have been written all over my face as if I’d committed the most heinous crime.

“
I’ll get the coffee. You get the biscuits over to the customer and see the reaction on his face when he takes a bite.”

I let out a deep breath, full of anticipation. “If you say so.”

“
I’ll bet he looks ten years younger after one bite. Hmm. Now that I look at him, he’s not a half bad looking man.”

“
Focus, Grandma.”

“
I got the coffee.” She grinned. “You go ahead.”

I picked up the plate holding the magic biscuits and forced my feet to move forward, back to the table where the man was still engrossed in the business section. He didn’t look up until I placed the dish in front of him.

Chapter Three

“
Oh, thanks. It looks delicious.” The man placed his paper down.

Grandma set the mug on the table and poured the hot liquid, giving him a little wink and a smile. I rolled my eyes. Now was not the time for flirting, although she’d always lived by the personal philosophy that there was always time for flirting.

“
Thanks.” He smiled back.

We moved back to the counter for a better view of the show. I was convinced we wouldn’t notice any difference in this man. Maybe a look of delight when he realized how good the gravy was, but I wasn’t expecting much else. He lifted his fork and I held my breath in anticipation.

“
Get ready. Just watch,” she said.

Staring at him while he ate was a bit weird. The man relished the first bite and didn’t slow down, taking the next shovelful in his mouth. The more he ate, the more he grinned and a glint appeared in his eyes. The air of anxiety around him seemed to fade like a deflating balloon.

“
You did it.” Grandma beamed.

“
You think?” I looked from grandma to the man and back to her.

“
I don’t think, I know. You can feel it, don’t forget to feel. You’ll sense everything you need to know.”

“
How many people know about this magic?” I lowered my voice so the man wouldn’t hear.

“
Not many, and we have to keep it that way.”

“
Isn’t it a little hard? Won’t word get out?”

“
Not if you don’t tell them.” She raised a brow. “It’s been a secret for many years.”

“
Is that why this town’s called Mystic Hollow?”

She winked. “You catch on quick.”

“
Apparently not quick enough, if it took me all these years to find out about this. You were doing this right under my nose.”

I had always wondered about that big mysterious book placed awkwardly among the other normal-looking cookbooks. But the few times I made up my mind to snoop at the contents, it would be gone.

“
Does Mom have the ability to perform this magic?”

Grandma shook her head. “I wish she did, but she doesn’t. Only a few do, and you’re one of the lucky ones. It skips a generation most of the time. Your daughter….” She looked toward the sky and placed her hands in a prayer gesture. “Heaven hope that you eventually make me a great-grandmother.”