Aiden: and for some reason now I feel worse
Me: Just as you should
“Ah, young love,” Prudence says from where she’s nestled between my boobs.
She’s wrong, obviously, but really, there’s no point in arguing with a cat.Even one that talks.Maybeespeciallyone that talks.
“Alright, shall we?”I ask her instead.“Can’t wait to find out for sure if I’ve lost my mind.”It comes out blithely enough, but there’s no denying that’s a very sincere possibility.
At least I’ll know for sure the minute I word-vomit at poor Tara.
There’s nothing for it.
I stiffen my shoulders, raise my chin in the air, and trudge down the stairs, one arm wrapped around the cat in my coat and my ratty old purse hanging from the other.
The salt line by the front door is intact, and I step over it uneasily, remembering the blast of pure energy that ricocheted off it only a few hours ago.
Nothing happens though, which leaves me relieved and worried that I’m a few crayons short of a full box or whatever the saying is.
Huh.
Maybe I could do with some relaxing coloring.Maybe I could set up a whole coloring station in the bookstore for kids.
My brain keeps tumbling over too many ideas, the humid air and pings of cold drizzle giving my new town a slight air of unreality.
The streets I drove down just last night have already been fully transformed into an autumnal wonderland.Pennant banners in harvest oranges and golds and reds drape across the streets, and pumpkins in every imaginable color and size spill out of every shop doorway.There aren’t many people out and about this early, but the few I do see smile and nod at me, and if they notice the talking cat I have smuggled in my boobs, they don’t act like it.
All in all, New Hopewell seems like the kind of small town where I might be happy for a long time.Maybe forever.
I suppose forever depends on this whole… talking cat situation.
Grimacing, I cross the road to the cute café Tara said she owned.The exterior looks recently renovated, and the sign that proclaims “TAROT, KOLACHE, AND TEA” is done in shiny brass on a pretty wood background.Carved florals swirl in and out of the words, along with moons and stars.
Hip-high window boxes overflow with garnet- and purple-hued flowers, along with a trailing green vine that pops even in the gloomy weather.Warm light glows inside the windows, and Tara’s dark hair shines as she bustles behind the counter.
“Stop standing around and get inside,” Prudence complains.“I’m getting wet.”
Snorting, I shake my head and open the door, a bell overhead jingling as I wipe my shoes on the doormat just inside.
The interior is just as pretty and well-thought-out as the rest, polished wood floors and marble-topped tables spaced perfectly throughout the room.The floral celestial theme continues, although it’s decidedly more Halloween-focused in here.
And it’s adorable—vintage witch and black cat and pumpkin décor all artfully arranged.There’s a bookcase full of foil-stamped books and dozens of different types of tarot cards.
All thoughts of décor and merchandise flee my head almost instantly, though, when I take a deep breath.
“Oh my god,” I moan.“It smells so good.”
“Ah, Sylvie!I’m so glad you decided to stop by.”Tara waves from behind the counter, her gaze sliding over my damp coat and the lump Prudence makes underneath.Then she tilts her head, and I realize she can see the cat.
I didn’t know how worried I was until Tara’s brow furrows, staring at where Prudence is now pushing up through my collar.
“Listen, witch, I know we haven’t met, but we’ve got problems.I’m Prudence.The sooner this one—” She pauses to swat at my chin.“—stops pussyfooting around her powers, the better.”
“Oh, shit.”Tara blanches, and I’ve never been so relieved in my life to see the disbelief I feel reflected on someone’s face.“That cat… Holy shit.You’re a witch, huh?”
“Oh, sure, talk to her, when I’m here too.By the way, I want whatever sausage that is I smell.A saucer of milk wouldn’t go wrong, either.”
“Uh.”That’s about all the response I can muster up.“You can hear her too, right?And does this mean you’re a witch?Please tell me I’m not going crazy.”
