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“All this, please.” I unzip the brown suede belt bag I’ve got on cross-body.
The door chimes jingle as a blonde and a brunette burst in, both wearing stylish tracksuits. Ivy Brennan, the blonde with a purple tracksuit and her sister Amelia, the brunette in the pink tracksuit.
Not only did I meet them briefly in Marblehead, I’d know them anyway. Their photographs are in Aunt Lyrica’s ledger, which I’ve spent hours upon hours reading and re-reading since she died a couple years ago. And then of course intervening to make sure things happened the way they were intended with their matings.
Me, Vivi, and Jess were all quite busy during both those matings. Vivi got visions that meant more intervening was done than usual with the shifter-human pairing, making sure that Mason was out of the way for Tyson and Ivy’s mating. And then Jess and Ronnie had to get involved more recently with the mess between Amelia’s ex and Mason. I was involved in both cases with the spell-writing.
The Brennan sisters both smile brightly at me.
“Erica,” Ivy greets. “I knew you’d come.”
Amelia waves but concern is in her eyes. “Hi,” she says softly. “Saw your van last night, then saw Riley head your way, so figured we’d see you eventually, but not this soon.”
“Yeah, hi,” I say, knowing my eyes betray my feelings on the subject. “Things okay with you and Mason?”
“Better than okay. Hope it’s gonna be okay for you and Riley too,” Amelia says.
“Have faith,” Ivy says softly.
I try to smile but it probably comes across as fake.
They turn and Ivy greets the cashier with, “Mornin’ Cicely,” as Amelia waves, then they move to the coffee pot while she rings me up.
“I’m not having one, I can’t,” Amelia says, pouting. “You go ahead.”
“If you want one, it probably wouldn’t hurt this early. I kinda don’t want one. The smell is making me a little… ugh.” Ivy’s face twists with distaste. “Maybe orange juice instead.”
“But you’re a coffee fiend. Maybe you’re up the duff, too,” Amelia whispers.
“I’m due for Aunt Flo today, so we’ll know soon enough,” Ivy whispers. They both give one another bright smiles that shows that not only are the two of them bursting with happiness, but that also shows their incredibly strong bond.
I don’t always get to see the effects of our work, but seeing this right now, I get a rare moment of warmth through my whole body. And I know I need to add a note about these two to the jar I’ve been saving to show Riley. If I get the chance. Though based on how he reacted to me last night – that may not happen.
“I heard that,” Cicely says, and squeals. “Yay. You’re pregnant!”
“I am,” Amelia announces. “Just found out last night.”
“Congratulations,” I say as Cicely squeals and runs out from behind her counter to hug Amelia.
All eyes move to me again.
“You okay?” Ivy asks, touching my shoulder.
“No,” I reply frankly.
“How can we help?” she asks, genuine concern on her face.
“Seventeen forty-five,” Cicely states loudly, going back behind the counter and seeming like she’s giving these women a message. A message that I’m the enemy. “Cash only. ATM there if you need it,” she tacks on, gesturing to the bank machine beside the bathroom door.
I fish a twenty out of my bag, thinking that she’s probably charging me double for what I’ve bought. I guess I’m lucky she served me at all.
“Is there a motel around here somewhere?” I ask as she hands me my change, dropping it in my palm without touching me.
“Drowsy Hollow is the closest town with a motel. Why?” Cicely kind of snaps.
“My camper van has what I need for eating and sleeping, but there’s no bathroom and I left in a hurry, forgetting to bring my camping toilet and outdoor shower. I could really use a hot shower, so I figured I’d see if there’s a motel or a bed and breakfast here.”
“Neither. Those are conducive to visitors, and we don’t appreciate those,” Cicely states. “There’s a truck stop the other side of The Hollow that rents showers to truckers.”
“You don’t mince words at all,” I observe.
“You can shower at our house,” Amelia offers.
“Or ours,” Ivy chimes in.
“Mine’s a little closer,” Amelia tells me.
“I don’t think it is,” Ivy counters. “You’re up that road.” She points toward the door. “And we’re up two blocks and then another road over, but you’re further down your road than we are ours, and-”
Cicely speaks up, eyes on me. “I suppose you can use my shower upstairs. Which will save you the hassle of Linc preventing you from going anywhere. But it’ll cost you.”
“As I said, I can’t tell you anything until I’ve talked to Riley.”
“Gimme something,” Cicely says. She slaps the counter and repeats herself, “Some. Thing.”
I’m about to reply when she adds, “I’ve watched Rye grieve for years. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him? Do-”
