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I made a face.
“Hey, if it doesn’t work, we haven’t lost anything, and we can check it off the list. And you’ll be clean. I need to do some more research before we try it.” She pushed herself up from the couch. “But let’s grab dinner first. I’m famished.”
Chapter 20
Sybil
Therestoftheweek zipped by, and I found myself up at the cottage again with Zayn before I knew it. We spent Friday finishing cleaning up the kitchen and the dining room before moving on to the spare room, which had been Great Granny Syl’s crafting room. If there was something she hoarded even more than magical artifacts, it was craft supplies.
I always loved being in the craft room and digging through her fabric scraps when I was little. She’d taught me how to sew and crochet, and though I didn’t do either one much these days, I missed it. I wasn’t nearly as good as my dressmaker friend Shelby, but I could hem a pair of pants in a pinch.
I took a few photos of the antique treadle sewing machine sitting in the corner and sent them over to Shelby, just in case she was interested. It was still in great condition, and all the parts moved smoothly after a few squirts of machine oil.
I warned Shelby that I sensed magic from the machine, but nothing malicious. Things like sewing machines that were used to create personal items were prone to soaking up the magic around them. It had been in my great granny’s collection for decades, and before that it had probably belonged to another witch, so that wasn’t surprising.
Shelby replied almost immediately, saying she’d take it. Awesome.
Sitting back on my heels, I glanced around the room. We’d made a dent in the mess, but I was getting tired, and I dreaded going through yet another pile of fabric. I didn’t want to just donate it all, but at the same time, I couldn’t justify keeping everything either.
The yarn had been easy; I was donating it, every last ball. I didn’t have Sylvana’s gift for crochet. Everything I made came out crooked, thanks to my inability to keep track of and count stitches. I’d resorted to using magic to straighten everything out. It seemed like cheating.
“Want to take a break?” Zayn asked as he dug out yet another bin of fabric from under the large crafting table. “We did get through a lot already.” He eyed the room. “This might be a multi-day affair.”
“Yeah. We should’ve done this last.” If we’d decided to do the closets and Sylvana’s bedroom, we’d be finished already. As it was, it was already late afternoon, and we’d been tackling this room all day.
“This room is like one of those crazy clown cars,” Zayn said. “I don’t know how we can still be pulling bins and bins of stuff out of it.”
“It’s the inherent magic of a craft room, any craft room, whether it belongs to a witch or not,” I laughed, remembering how Sylvana had once explained it to me.
“Let’s take a break,” he said. “I’ll go make us some tea lattes.”
I’d brewed a strong batch of coffee yesterday when we’d first arrived. Now it was sitting in the fridge, ready to be turned into iced lattes. Yum!
We moved to the dining room and Zayn booted up his laptop, which he’d brought with him.
“Check this out while I make us some drinks.” He guided me over to the chair, his hand warm on my arm, and kissed the top of my head before heading to the kitchen.
My jaw dropped at the detailed sketch on Zayn’s laptop.
“Do you like it?” he grinned at me through the doorway.
The “it” in question was a plan for an elaborate rat patio—or, as it was labeled on the blueprint, a “Rat-io”—that would involve building an enclosure around the current patio and a protected walkway all the way to the gazebo. The rat-io would also enclose part of the gazebo. The barbeque and any non-rat-safe items would be outside it.
There were two human-sized entrances, one at the patio end and the other at the gazebo. Both doors had springs so they would close and automatically latch, to prevent escapes and keep unwanted intruders out. There were, after all, foxes, coyotes, martins, and birds of prey in the area.
“We don’t have to install the rat door leading into the house if you don’t want to put a hole in the wall, but if we do, it can be connected to their cage so they can go out anytime they want. All you’d have to do is open the latch. The design’s not quite complete. I need to do some testing to make sure predators can’t dig or squeeze their way in.”
The sketch had the outdoor furniture inside the rat-io, so we could spend time with them. That was ideal, since the whole point of the rat-io was so that we could hang out with Salt and Pepper outdoors without worrying a hawk would swoop down and carry them away.
“It might be better if we only let them out there when we are out there too,” I said. I tended to be quite protective when it came to my babies. I loved them and wanted to give them everything I could to keep them happy, but not if it jeopardized their safety. “That patio set is rattan and won’t last a day with Pepper’s chewing. We might not even need to connect the two sections yet.”
“Way ahead of you.” Zayn pressed a few keys, and another diagram popped up, this one showing the two sections separated. This design was accessorized with hidey huts, climbing ropes, bridges, and hammocks.
He must have spent all week designing this. Warmth swelled in my chest. It was rare to find someone who didn’t see my ratties and go, “Eww, those tails.” And most people thought of rodents as disposable pets, because of their short lifespans. But Zayn got it. He understood how much they meant to me.
He didn’t think it was weird that I cared about them so much that I was willing to break the rules and keep a secret for years just so I could spend more time with them.
“Salt and Pepper are going to love you more than they love me,” I laughed.
