A Slice of Christmas Magic. A. Mayes G.
looking at one of the fliers and talking animatedly. I inched closer, pretending to be focused on my job of cleaning up.
“I was trying to do a spell to fix my roof last year, and the Magic Enforcers stopped me because the magic was too big.” The sarcasm was clear in his voice.
“It’s Violet. She’s out there squashing magic. Maybe if she’d let people practice more, we wouldn’t have people attacking our town and our neighbors. We’d be equipped to fight them off,” a woman said.
“The IMPs might bring a breath of fresh air. We’ve been stuck living like this for so long, we don’t even consider new ideas anymore,” another woman chimed in.
I quickly scooted away, stuffing another handful of fliers into my almost full bag. I had to go tell Aunt Erma what I’d heard.
I found her heading back toward the pie shop. A crowd had gathered outside, and people began to stir when they saw Aunt Erma approaching. I grabbed her and quickly told her what I’d overheard.
“How are we going to deal with this?” I asked.
“I’ll tell Violet.” Her forehead wrinkled. “This is exactly what they want.”
“The IMPs?” I asked.
She nodded. The clean-up was almost done so I headed to the pie shop to help.
“Come in, everyone,” she said as she shuffled between the grumbling crowd to unlock the front door. “Thanks for your patience. Coffee for everyone, on the house!”
“Someone was looking for you,” Nadine, one of our regulars, whose blonde curly hair was always gathered in a poof on top of her head, said to me. As far as I could tell, her job in town was to spread gossip.
“Oh yeah? Who?” I asked, following her through the door.
“I don’t know. Some guy.”
“Henry?” I asked, even though I figured he would call me if he was looking for me.
“No, some curly-haired guy I haven’t seen before.” She shrugged.
“I guess this mystery man will have to come back if he wants to talk to me.” I went back to the kitchen and stopped in my tracks.
“Mom,” I said.
“You recognize me. I’m so touched,” she said, barely looking up as she sliced a peppermint cream pie. My mom’s brown hair was just a shade lighter than mine. Unlike mine, it was smooth and perfectly styled. Instead of her usual business suit, she wore jeans and a dark green sweater.
My mother had gone back to the city a couple weeks after Aunt Erma had become human again after being a cat. We’d had a wonderful week where our days were full of baking and gossiping – we were a regular holiday special! – then the bickering had begun, and the comments under our breath, and my mother had decided she had to get back to her clients at home. I didn’t blame her. It was a lot of intense family time after a long separation.
“She’ll be back soon,” Aunt Erma had reassured me as I had watched her car drive away with a lump in my throat. I had been enjoying the gossiping and reminiscing. It had been so long since I’d seen my mother laugh that much.
That was less than two weeks ago, and here she was again. I guess I didn’t have anything to worry about.
“Erma called and asked me to come help at the pie shop while you guys went on some sort of mission.” My mother began cutting the next pie more forcefully than was actually necessary.
“We have to go—” I began.
“No,” my mother cut me off, still keeping her eyes on the pie. “I don’t want to know. I know it has to be dangerous. I could tell from Erma’s tone. It’s best if I just worry here instead of knowing the specifics. I’ll just serve pie and worry.”
Ah, my mother the martyr.
“How long are you here for?” I asked.
“I booked a room at the inn for three nights, but we’ll see,” she answered. My mother preferred to stay at the local inn instead of squishing into the apartment with us.
Aunt Erma had already fulfilled the orders of the crowd before sneaking to the back of the kitchen to make a phone call. She faced the corner and spoke in a low voice, probably talking to Violet. The angry grumbles out front had turned into happy chattering as people drank their free cups of coffee.
“I’m taking my cats to see Santa,” someone said.
“My sister is coming to visit with her four children, and they’re all staying in my one-bedroom apartment,” I heard someone else say as I filled an empty mug with more steaming coffee.
“My husband is in a Christmas play, and he wants me to go watch all twelve performances,” another voice chimed in.
I heard a familiar voice say my name. I saw him in the crowd, but it didn’t register because he was a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. I was shocked and speechless for a moment.
“Josh,” I finally managed to croak, reaching out to hug him.
“Hey, Susie.” He was warm and smelled like sawdust. He held me for a second longer after I had let go.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, taking a step back to look at him. His dark curly hair had gotten a little long. He had dark circles under his brown eyes, and his usually rosy cheeks were pale. “Is everything okay?”
“Hal has me working at a big remodel in Mavisville,” he said. Mavisville was another nearby town. “It should take a couple of weeks.”
“That’s great. We’ll definitely have to get together to catch up,” I said.
“Someone gave me one of these.” He held up one of the IMP fliers, and I snatched it out of his hand.
“That’s for a holiday play the town is putting on. They’re very creative here.” I could hear my voice coming out a little too high-pitched as I crumpled the paper and stuffed it into my pocket.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
At least four people in the store stopped their conversations to openly stare at us.
“Let’s go outside.” I grabbed the sleeve of his coat and led him towards the front door.
“Who is that?” I heard someone whisper loudly as I opened the door.
“Beats me. I’d bet an old boyfriend,” someone else said.
I glared over my shoulder in the general direction of the voices. Josh and I had been co-workers back home. We had grown to be good friends, but it was never anything more than that. Josh was the one I’d call when I was having trouble with a relationship, and I would give him insights on the people he dated whether he asked for it or not. I hadn’t really talked to him since I’d left – just a couple quick text messages that didn’t really say much.
I wrapped my gray sweater more tightly around myself and faced him. I thought longingly of my red coat hanging on the hook at the back of the kitchen. Why had I suggested going outside? The mid-December wind was biting against my skin. Oh yeah, outside was the only place we had a shot at not being eavesdropped on. However, if anyone could lip-read, we were in trouble as all of the customers in the shop were blatantly staring through the window. They practically had their noses pressed against the glass.
I took a couple of steps back toward the flower shop next door so we were at least a little out of sight, though I wasn’t sure there was anywhere completely out of sight in this town …
Josh stared at the ground for a minute.
“Is everything okay?” I asked again. I wanted this to hurry up, so I could get back to the toasty warm kitchen.
“So, you live here now?” he asked, looking up and down the street.
“I