spies and spells 01 - spies and spells (2 page)

“Do we have any bread ties?” I grabbed the piece of wheat toast Mom had sitting on the counter. I closed my eyes and savored the first bite. She made the best buttered toast. There wasn’t a single grain left unbuttered. Mom made sure she spread the pat of butter to the edges, letting it seep in the warm toast.

“Mrs. Hubbard?” Mom picked a few more leaves from the window garden and bundled them with a piece of cord she had already precut.

“Yes,” I mumbled, stuffing the rest of the toast in my mouth.

“In the drawer.” Mom waved her hand in a circular motion before uncurling her long lean finger toward the junk drawer. 

“In the drawer huh?” I questioned, pulling the junk drawer open knowing it was stuffed with pens, coupon circulars, and everything but bread ties. “Talk about magic.” I swiveled my eyes Mom’s way, questioning her little bit of magic. “And you accuse me of using magic.”

I grabbed a fistful of ties, kissed my mom on the cheek and headed out of the kitchen toward the front of the house.

“I’ll be right back,” I called over my shoulder and walked down the hallway, opening up the heavy wooden door to the courtyard.

Belgravia Court was an odd place to live. There were two rows of houses opposite each other with a grassy courtyard down the middle. The front of the houses faced the courtyard. Each side had its own sidewalk with gas carriage lanterns lighting the way. Along the backs of our homes was an alley with each home having a detached garage. 

The houses were so close together, I couldn’t spit out my side bedroom window without hitting the neighbor’s house.

Belgravia Court was a close-knit community with everyone in everyone else’s business. Not the Parks. We tried to stay on the down-low as much as possible. Given our heritage and all.

“I found some.” I waved my fistful of bread ties in the air toward Mrs. Hubbard.

I glanced up at the sky. It was unseasonably cool for a June day in Kentucky.

Ruff, ruff, ruff.
King charged me. I flicked my hand, sending a little jolt of
don’t screw with me
at him. Enough for him to feel it, but not enough to hurt him. I had to keep the ankle biter from sinking his sharp little daggers in me.

King yelped, running back under the bushes.

“He has that same reaction with your crazy aunt.” Mrs. Hubbard eased down her front steps and bent down to get her dog from the hedges. Her butt stuck straight up in the air, she dug her arms deeper into the bushes until she came out with a shaking King. “Oh stop that.” She snuggled him against her. “Maggie isn’t anything like the rest of ’em.”

“They aren’t so bad.” I glared at the dog, holding the ties out for her to take.

“Thank you, honey.” Mrs. Hubbard nodded her head to put them down on the step, glancing sideways at me.  She walked back up her steps and put King in the house. She turned and said, “Tell me.” She went back to the fake flowers, quickly tying some together before sticking them back in the planter boxes. “What was your mom doing up there on the balcony?”

I looked over at my house. The red three-story home was beautiful with the double porches on the front of the left side of the house. On the right were two large windows on each level. But the porches were really the charming feature. The first one was considered the front porch. Two dark grey pillars were built on the brick wall to the open porch leading up to the large wooden door with long skinny decorative windows on each side. Above the door was a stained glass window Auntie Meme had created herself. If you were to look closely, you’d see little images of our heritage.

Above the porch was another open porch with wrought iron railing. The doors leading into the house from the second porch were all glass. The room off the second porch was Mom’s room. Then the third floor was where Lilith and my rooms were located. We had the whole Jack and Jill bathroom thing going. It was cute when we were kids, not so much now.

“She was doing her morning yoga.” I smiled, lying.

Mom used the morning sun to welcome the day, sending a little prayer of protection for the family every morning. Normally she was careful of watchful eyes at four-thirty in the morning, and normally Mrs. Hubbard wasn’t up that early. Something told me today was going to be anything but normal.

Mrs. Hubbard harrumphed, not fully satisfied with my answer, but she didn’t balk at it either.

“I don’t have a horse in that race. But it seems to me she’d go to one of them fancy yoga studios.” Mrs. Hubbard eyed me, setting her jaw. We stood there for a second before she waved it off. She bent down and picked up a bouquet of plastic flowers. “No horse in that race.”

“It was good to see you.” I turned to go back to the house and grab my clutch and keys. “I’ve got to work.”

“Still working for Meme?” Mrs. Hubbard asked, shaking the bouquet at me.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s a family business.” I strolled closer to my house, making more distance between me and Mrs. Hubbard. If I didn’t, she’d start asking questions I didn’t want to answer.

“You tell that mom of yours that I’m going to give her a run for her money on the Hidden Treasure Tour,” she warned.

“I’ll do that.” I ran up the front stairs and slammed the front door when I got safely inside. “Mom!” I yelled down the hall. “You better step up your garden game.” I laughed and grabbed my keys and clutch off the counter. Mom had put the bundle of herbs next to them so I wouldn’t forget to take them to The Brew. “Mrs. Hubbard is going to give you a run for your money.”

Mom stopped plucking the herbs and looked at me. There wasn’t a bit of amusement in her eyes. She took her life’s journey very seriously.

I put my arms up in the air with my hands stuffed. “Her words not mine.” I winked and headed out the back door. “Hey, do you think I could take more of an active role in cooking at the diner?”

Mom’s head snapped back, she took me in.

“I’m so tired of not having a purpose.” I objected to her stare. “I know the Witchy Hour and stuff, but I’m twenty-eight years old and I’d like to get on with my life.”

“When you have your Witchy Hour, your life will get on,” she said and went back to plucking.

“Mom.” I cried, getting her attention. “All I’m asking is for you to talk to Auntie Meme and tell her you agree to let me have a more active role in the kitchen.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, pointing to the door for me to get going.

Mom had really done an amazing job in our back yard. We had a play pool; it was only four feet deep and not very long, but it was big enough for the four of us to get in and enjoy on a hot Kentucky summer day. Plus the vibrant colors of the flower garden Mom had grown along with special herbs made the yard pop with colors. The fountain that drained into a curvy pond where koi fish lived was a new feature. Mrs. Hubbard hadn’t seen it and was going to probably die right there while the tour was going on. That wasn’t my concern. I had to get to work before Auntie Meme had her own heart attack.

I used the keypad to open the electric garage door.

“Good morning, Vinnie,” I said to my 1965 red AC Cobra familiar.

His lights blinked off and on, the driver door swung open, and the engine started.

“Good morning, Maggie. I hope you find the temperature to your liking this cool morning,” Vinnie said, as he always aimed to please me.

I got in and put the herbs down on the passenger seat along with my purse.

“I see your mom has been busy this morning.”

“She has.” I shut the door and put my hands on the wheel. “What’s the weather today?”

“A cold front is coming through and will be here for the next couple of days.” Vinnie pulled out, taking a right down the alley.

At the end, he took another right on Sixth Street and then a left on Hill Street.

“I imagine you will be busy today.” Vinnie was good at making small talk.

He hadn’t had to get me out of too many bad situations. And I wasn’t sure what he could do as my familiar to keep me safe. But I never questioned. He was a cool car and he had become more of a friend than a car. Sounded strange, but it was true.

“I hope so,” I groaned. “You know,” I sighed. “I’m twenty-eight and I don’t want to be stuck in a diner all my life.” I bit my lip wondering if I was going to have to create my own destiny and not worry about what my heritage said my life’s journey was. “Or maybe we have become so engrained in the mortal world, we don’t have a life’s journey anymore.”

“You mean like an evolution type of theory?” Vinnie asked pulling up to the curb on Fourth Street where the diner was located.

“Yeah. Something like that. Something has got to give or I’m going to find my own journey. Create my own Witchy Hour.” I sucked in a deep breath and looked through The Brew’s front windows.

It was already busy. Many of the regulars were already bellied up to the counter.

“You leave well enough alone. Your Witchy Hour will be here soon enough.” Vinnie didn’t like me messing with the spirits. “You are messing with your future and that is not up to you.”

Contrary to what mortals lived by,
you can be anything you want to be
, not me. I had to be what I was destined to be and I knew in my gut The Brew wasn’t my destiny.

I grabbed the bundle of herbs and my clutch and opened the door to get out. Once I got out, I glanced around to make sure no one saw me talking to my car. I bent down into the driver’s side and said, “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

I shut the door and watched Vinnie zoom down Fourth before I stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of the diner.

The Brew, our family-owned retro style diner, was a great cover for my family’s little secret in Louisville, Kentucky. The residents here loved Kentucky basketball and fast horses, not a family full of witches. I’m not sure how or why my mom and Auntie Meme came to live in Kentucky, but it’s been home to me all my life.

We fit in. Mom made sure of it. While growing up, during the day Lilith and I went to an all girls school and at night we went to witchery school. Witchery school was taught by Auntie Meme and Mom in our living room.

We had the latest and greatest clothes. With a flick of my hand, I could make an old rag look like a runway dress. Lilith was the true stylist. In fact, Lilith went to real cosmetology school at a local mortal school after high school. Auntie Meme thought it was great. Mom, on the other hand, thought it was disastrous. Lilith was a sloppy witch and Mom knew it. If Lilith messed up a client’s hair or nails, she’d whip her hand in the air fixing it with magic. If the client knew it, Lilith would wipe their memory and a whole new set of problems would occur. Me, I stayed on the straight and narrow.

Sure I did my fair share of what we called fun spells, like the whole dare thing Lilith  and I played with each other, but other than those, I was on the straight path. My own words tumbled around in my head. Was I destined to take over The Brew?

Chapter Two

“You’ve got the counter.” Lilith snapped her head toward the back of the diner when I walked in. Her short black bangs swung along with her shoulder-length bob.

“Good morning to you too.” I rolled my eyes and grabbed the apron off the hook.

“I see you are just in time.” Auntie Meme popped her head through the pass way of the kitchen and diner. Her flaming-red-colored hair stuck out in all different directions.  Her bright red lips curled into a smile. “Looking as pretty as ever.”

“Thank you.” I couldn’t help but get in a good mood when I saw her. She was always fun and on my side. “Say,” I leaned in closer to the pass through while tying the back of the apron around my waist. “Do you think I could help with some cooking?”

Her black eyes jumped, her mouth flung open. “Do you mean to tell me you think you are. . .”

I didn’t have to hear the end of her sentence to know what she was going to say. She didn’t make it a secret that she wanted me to take over one day. Maybe that was my journey. Create spells like her.

After all, it wasn’t a bad gig for her. She loved to cook. She loved happy people and people left The Brew happy no matter what type of mood they had when they walked through the door.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, but it couldn’t hurt to help it along a bit.” I winked, grabbing the order pad from the counter top before going down the line of regulars at the counter.

“Have a seat!” I called out. It was a habit. When the bell over the diner door dinged, one of us would yell to have a seat, letting the customers know we saw them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the guy in the green sweatshirt, the hood over his head, take a seat at the bar on the far end away from the regulars.

“Mornin’ Maggie.” Joe Farmer, owner of Farmer’s Dry Cleaners, sat in the first seat.

“Good morning, Joe.” I winked and nodded my head toward the kitchen. I topped off his coffee and the guy next to him. “Did you ask her out yet?” I asked the widower who had been after Auntie Meme before his wife got cold in the grave.

“She won’t even look at me this morning.” He grunted.

“Giving her cat calls when she comes to the cleaners isn’t going to win her heart,” I said making my way down the line with the steamy pot of coffee, filling cups that needed filling.

I had given Joe many tips over the past few years on how to win Auntie Meme, but he figured free dry cleaning and cat calling was the way to go. Clearly not.

“Coffee?” I asked the guy at the end of the counter.

His head was down. His fingers drummed the counter and his knee bounced up and down.

“Coffee?” I asked again. Coffee looked like it was the last thing he needed. His nerves were on high alert.

“Yeah.” He shook his head, slowly lifting his face. He unzipped his sweatshirt and pulled out a small brown paper package and set it on the counter in front of him. “Sure. Coffee.”

“Cream? Sugar?” I asked, noticing that he had one brown and one white eyebrow.
Strange.

“Order up, Maggie!” Auntie Meme screamed louder than normal through the pass through.

I jerked my head her way, the coffee pot still dangling from my hand.

Auntie Meme slightly shook her head. My eyes lowered as I tried to get a read on what she was trying to say to me. A quick second, Auntie Meme’s eyes opened wider, her jaw set.