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“I wondered how she got her garden to bloom in the Fall,” I remarked. “She also said she was my Grandma’s best friend?” I made it a question, wanting to know if Rath agreed.
He nodded.
“They were pretty close, I think. Though your Grandma was beloved by the whole community—she kind of felt like everyone’s Grandma—you know?”
“Did she feel like that to you, too?” I asked curiously. “I mean, how did you meet her?”
“She brought me one of her amazing apple pies when I moved in—I’m at number 2 Crooked Lane, just down the road from her house—your house now—you know?” He smiled, clearly caught in a happy memory. “I wasn’t in the best mood—I’d been kicked out of my Tribe for being only half-Orc, which wasn’t good enough for the new chieftain who had just been installed. So I was in full self-pity mode when she knocked. I growled at her and told her to leave me alone.”
“You did? And what did she do?” I asked, though inside I was wondering what his other half was. (Was he part human? Did that make us compatible? No—I really had to stop thinking this way, I scolded myself.)
“She told me not to be silly and to come out and say hello to my new neighbor.” His grin widened. “She never took any nonsense from anyone. Once she made my acquaintance, she sat me down and fed me a slice of pie.” He shook his head. “I’ll never forget how delicious it was. I still miss that pie of hers—nobody else’s even comes close. Not even Celia at The Lost Lamb can make it just the way she did. I know because I asked her to try.”
“I think I found the recipe for it in her, uh, cookbook,” I said. I was reluctant to mention that the cookbook was actually a Grimoire for some reason. It sounded so witchy. And though it was becoming clear that my Grandma had indeed been a witch with magic powers, that still didn’t quite fit my image of her.
“You found her recipe?” Rath exclaimed. “Really?”
“Really.” I smiled at him. “I’ve been wanting to try and make it myself. That’s why I was on the spice aisle in the grocery store—I have everything I need to make it except for cinnamon.”
“We can definitely get you some cinnamon,” he said eagerly. “Are you a baker, like she was?”
I nodded, smiling.
“Well, I mean I doubt I’m as good as she was, but I’m not bad.”
“I would love to taste that pie again.” Rath got a wistful look on his face. “I have dreams about it.”
“There are a lot of spices in the recipe,” I remarked. “And a few ingredients from her greenhouse, too I think. Speaking of that—have you been the one watering her plants all this time? They’re in really good shape considering that my Grandma has been gone five years.”
Rath shook his head.
“No, I haven’t messed with them. But before your Grandma faded, she asked me to help her design a watering system for them. I think maybe she knew she was going.” He looked sad. “Anyway, I built it and set it up and then I wrote a remote program for her that runs from my computer, so that the different plants could get the right moisture levels. I’m glad to hear it’s working so well.”
“It really is,” I said. “But you built the watering system and programmed it too? That’s really impressive.”
“Nah…” He shook his head. “It was a fun project though— a lot more fun than hooking up Wi-Fi and troubleshooting problems for people who don’t know what an Internet browser is or how to turn on their computer. A lot of magical folk aren’t very Internet savy,” he added.
“Speaking of Wi-Fi…I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t get it in my Grandma’s house,” I said. “Like I told you, I work remotely and I have a couple of gigs right now that I need to finish.”
“Tell you what…” Rath leaned across the table. “I’ll give you my Wi-Fi password—we’re close enough and the signal’s strong enough that you should be able to connect with no problem. But if you do have a problem, you can always come work at my place if you want. No pressure or anything though—only if you want to,” he added. “I mean, my tables and chairs will be way too big for you, but the couch is really comfortable if you just want to bring your laptop and hang out.”
“Thank you—that’s very generous of you,” I said, feeling my cheeks get hot again as I imagined the two of us on the couch together. Kissing…touching…maybe doing more than touching…
I gave myself a mental kick. What was wrong with me?
“Oh, I’m not doing it out of the generosity of my heart,” Rath remarked, grinning. “I’m hoping that if you decide to make your Grandma’s apple pie, you’ll save me a piece.”
“I’ll bake you a whole pie if you want,” I said, smiling back. “I just need to finish these gigs so I can get paid. I don’t know how the utilities and water are still on, but I don’t want to let them lapse. I need to keep the lights on—and the heat too—especially since it’s going to be Winter soon.”
“No, it won’t.” Rath frowned. “It won’t be Winter again until December. And don’t worry about the lights and power—they’re run by a magical conduit buried in the ground under the house. Your Grandma tapped into a deep well of magical power when she built Morris, so the utilities are self-sustaining.”
“Wait—you mean I don’t have to pay for lights or water or electricity or any of that?” I asked, hardly able to believe my ears.
Rath shook his head.
“Nope. So that should be one worry off your plate.”
“It is—that’s amazing!” I was thankful for my Grandmother’s generous will all over again. But his other words stuck in my mind. “Um…what did you mean when you said it wouldn’t be Winter again until December? Isn’t it almost December here?”
