Saga paused, taken aback by the oddity of the question. “Hudson’s? Yeah. My grandmother used to own it, but she passed it to my aunt when she retired a few years ago. Why do you ask?”
The woman was scrutinizing Saga in a discomfiting manner. “It usedto be an apothecary.”
The accusatory tone of the statement forced a laugh out of Saga. “Well with the rise of modern medicine and creation of government health agencies, that really wasn’t a sustainable business, but we’ve found our own way around it, I think.”
It wasn’t clear if the lunar apparition was amused or quizzical. Possibly both.
“Here, I’ll show you.” Saga placed a cup and saucer on the counter between them. “What’s ailing you? Your head or your stomach?”
“Neither,” she answered. “New lodgings. I’m afraid I’m not used to sleeping.” She glanced around the café before adding somewhat awkwardly, “In the heart of a city, I mean.” She yawned and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms. “It appears whoever occupies the apartment below mine keeps terrifyingly unnatural hours. Bustling about doing hells knows what, kept waking me.”
Saga’s heart dropped in realization. She’d given this woman reason to hate her before they’d even met. “Ah.” She turned to find the right tea canister: Wake the Dead. “So, you would be the new tenant in Apartment B then.”
Moonlight sat up a little straighter.
“I’m afraid that wasmethis morning. I have no real basis for what sounds carry—no one has occupied the upstairs apartment since…” Saga shrugged helplessly. “I think maybe before I was born? I’m so terribly sorry, I had no idea you could hear me.”
Chastised and sheepish, the woman began to backpedal. “Please, do not apologize. It may not be your fault at all, I am merely…” She seemed to choose her words very carefully. “Until as of late, I have been sleeping far more deeply. I will adjust.”
Saga moved the tea canister beside the teacup to allow the scent to waft to the other woman. “A blend of Assam and Ceylon, giving a powerful but well-balanced brew, intermixed with cinnamon for strength, ginger to increase your energy, cloves for emotional balance, and star anise for awareness.” Setting out the teapot, she began to carefully fill the infuserbasket with the leaves. “So you might say, even though we now advertise as a café and confectionary, we’re still an apothecary in our own right.” She was answered with contemplative silence before the woman held up her hands as if surrendering.
“Forgive me, I wasn’t sure how Mundane9 this establishment had become.”
Saga laughed at the absurdity of the statement and gestured to herself for added emphasis. “Do I look mundane to you?”
Charmed, the moonlight smiled. “I’m Avery.”
Her face warmed. “Saga.”
Avery’s eyebrows raised. “Really?” This was not an uncommon reaction.
“Yeah, well, my mother always swore to anyone that would listen that she’d never have kids, but then here I am, so…” She picked up the kettle, careful not to spill or splash the hot water as she poured it over the tea leaves. “I think naming me Saga was her way of explaining it’s ‘a very long story.’”
Avery’s smile widened, lips parting to exhale what might have been a chuckle. “You’re funny.”
The warmth in Saga’s cheeks spread to her chest, and an irritatingly bubbly thrill percolated in her abdomen. Impossibly handsome women were not allowed to compliment her. It made her dizzy and drunk, and she choked on a giggle. “You’re in need of sugar and cream.” She retreated to her work, the routine a welcome balm to rising anxiety. But the sugar bowl and cream pitcher were retrieved far too easily, and almost as quickly as she had left it, she had to reenter the danger zone.
“Will it damage the remedy if I add these?” It was a light tease. She wasteasing her. Impossibly handsome women were not allowed to tease her either. It wasn’t at all a fair fight.
“Actually,” Saga explained, clinging to her knowledge of hearth magic like a life raft in a storm, “cream is used to draw prosperity, and sugar…” Her mind tumbled over its uses in love charms. She couldn’t say any of that, not toher. So she shrugged—perhaps a little too violently. “Sugar just sweetens everything.” It was still truthful, so she didn’t feel guilty. But it did give her an idea. She retreated to the display counter and retrieved one of the cheerful pink cake donuts dotted with bright rainbow sprinkles. She plated the confection and presented it to Avery. “Here, on me.”
Avery peered curiously at Saga, then the pastry. “What is this?”
“Think of it as a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift.”
Avery was delighted but no less confused. “Thank you, but…Whatis it?”
“Oh! It’s a vanilla cake donut with raspberry cream cheese frosting. It’s really good, I promise. I mean, it’s fried dough and sugar, but it’s not sickly sweet or anything. We make them in-house.”
Avery was warming up to it, especially as she inhaled the scent, but she paused one last time. “And the colorful…” She circled a finger over the sprinkles. “Beads?”
“They’re just sprinkles.”
Avery blinked. “Sprinkles…of what?”
“You know, sprinkles. They’re…”
No recognition dawned on the silver woman’s face.
