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“Really, I’ve got to go. Sorry I got you all wet.” I reached into the van to grab my purse and keys.
He smiled and shrugged. And there was something salacious in his expression as he eyed me from head to toe again. And based on my mood coming here today, you’d think I’d be disappointed and chant to myself that all men are dawgs.
But instead, there were butterflies divebombing in my belly and I was feeling incredibly shy despite that niggle in my gut that told me I had to get to Aunt Lyrica’s STAT.
“Thanks for your help. Bye!” I waved and hurried down the street.
“Hope we meet again!” he called out.
I looked over my shoulder at him and tripped. I didn’t fall, thankfully. Embarrassed, I faced forward and broke into a jog to get to my aunt, feeling like his eyes were on me until I turned the corner to take the shortcut through the alley that’d take me to the back of her building.
She was unconscious on her bathroom floor when I got into her apartment above the drycleaners.
I was still wet from the fire hydrant when I got to the hospital, but a nurse gave me a pair of scrubs and a towel while they looked her over. Thankfully, she’d gained consciousness as the paramedics got her onto a stretcher. They helped me convince her to get checked out despite her blowing it off like she was absolutely fine.
I called the house and Jessica answered, aghast at the news as I told her it was either pure luck (or pure fate) that I happened to be in town.
The hospital didn’t like her blood sugar levels, nor some other numbers in her bloodwork, so they admitted her and would be keeping her overnight. Aunt Mimi and my sisters would arrive the next day, would shut down the store for a few days, then stay a couple days and we’d all celebrate my birthday in Drowsy Hollow.
I took that moment to tell Jess I wanted to move home and come back to work at the store.
She relayed that to Aunt Mimi who said, “Good.”
And that one word gave me comfort.
***
Aunt Lyrica sent me back to her place for the night, telling me she was fine and that I could pick her up and bring her home the next day. She’d have the nurse call when it was time for me to come.
I got into a full but opened bottle of wine I found in Aunt Lyrica’s fridge, feeling sorry for myself after my failed ‘regular life’ experiment and wondering if I’d ever meet the man who’d be worthy to have my virginity. A man hopefully at least a little like Riley the wolf shifter. I stared out the window and saw a shooting star. I wished on it for Aunt Lyrica. There was a second shooting star a half a minute later and I wished on that one, too. Wished I’d get to give my v-card to someone I’d never regret giving it to.
I sat down with plans to watch some sappy romantic comedies on TV to keep my mind off worrying about my ailing aunt. Me and my sisters weren’t ready to lose her. Weren’t done learning from her. Not remotely. I needed her to get well. And I wanted more time with her. We all did.
As I sipped the sweet wine, I had no idea how dangerous it was. I later found out it was spelled wine. It lowered inhibitions to help people go after what they wanted. A confidence-booster that Aunt Lyrica had prepped for one of her regulars.
I should’ve known better. She told me on my eighteenth birthday visit to never consume anything unsealed in her fridge without first asking about it.
But it didn’t even occur to me until it was too late that the wine cork had been replaced with a stopper. Because I’d thought, I could use some wine. I also found out much later that one glass would’ve affected anyone, even someone with a strong alcohol constitution, and I had no such constitution. I was a lightweight, so drinking the whole bottle, I was pretty tipsy. Beyond tipsy, leaning toward drunk. Drunk and determined I already had my abilities, and after three years of constant study, and I should be able to write spells. I was convinced I could and should write a spell around what I wanted. The closest-to-perfect man I could think of.
Riley. To make him choose me as his soulmate. I felt like I could do it and furthermore that I should do it. I didn’t want to play the field anymore. I was tired of waiting for my perfect man. I was tired of dating. The dating pool felt like a cesspool.
So, full of spelled wine and confidence, I dug through Aunt Lyrica’s supplies to gather what I needed before heading out in the midnight moonlight barefoot. I stopped at my bus armed with a cornstalk from Aunt Lyrica’s broom, which I rubbed all over my steering wheel before gathering some more of my own supplies. I locked up and wandered to the far end of the eerily quiet town, then down the dirt road behind the rusty, old water tower, singing to myself until I happened upon a beautiful tulip tree that was so big, it had to be the grandest tree I’d ever seen. It seemed to sparkle with magic to my drunken eyes. To beckon me toward it, offering to let me take what I needed from it. I often found myself compelled to hike deep into the woods, often finding a powerfully magic tree on my route. They called to me.
