Curious. Knowing what little I do about the Quarter, the reaction Luna is getting could be based on something other than a lack of belief in witchcraft or magick. I’ll probably want to tread softly, carefully, with this girl.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say. “But with me and my friends, you’ll find we won’t shy away from the topics of spells and casting.” I suck back a breath and release. “So tell me about your dad and what’s going on with him?” I say, recalling the reason why she was looking for healing spell ingredients.
She sighs. “My father, he’s been despondent, a lot. And he’s drinking. He never drinks.” She sucks back a ragged breath. “He’s almost like a different person.”
Personality swings? I can relate to that. Our problems seem oddly similar. My heart weights. “Have you been able to identify any possible reason for the change in his behavior?”
“No. I wish. Then maybe I’d know what to do.” She breathes deep. “He seems frustrated, angry, scared. I want to help him, but I don’t know what to do or where to begin.”
“Strangely enough, I understand all too well.” I move my hand back to the phone and hold it in place at my ear. “I’ve been going through something similar with someone I love.” I glance to my collection of herbs and spices cluttering the wall shelf, then turn my thoughts to my garden. Make a mental inventory of James and Jeanna’s gardens.
What were the items she was looking for?
“Goldenseal and elderberry, those are the two things you are looking for, right?” I ask.
“Those are the ones,” she says.
“I’d be happy to get you clippings of each. Both are growing in my garden.”
“You are a blessing,” she says. “I couldn’t be more thankful, but… thank you.”
“Don’t even give it a thought.” I yawn. Cover my mouth in an attempt to camouflage any escaping noise. “I will be back in the French Quarter and Garden District on Saturday. I have commitments in the morning and through lunch, but if you are interested, we could meet up for a soft drink or a bite to eat?”
“I would like that!”
We pick a time and place for Saturday, and then end the call. I mentally remind myself to clip her samples of elderberry and goldenseal.
That night, my sleep is restless, fighting with my overactive mind, desperately trying to solve my mom’s issues and those of Luna’s father. Friday couldn’t creep by slower if it tried. And Saturday morning, I awake with a giddiness similar to a lucky kid on Christmas morning.
The morning sun slips through the window, delivering positive, energizing vibes. I stretch wide, yawn, and sing, “Witchy woodoo, be with me all day through.”
The phone rings.
Chapter Four
“Mom?” I call down the hall, but she doesn’t answer. The phone rings again. I head down the hallway, hear the shower running, and deduce my mom’s location. The phone rings a third and fourth time. I take the call in the kitchen.
“Hello?”
I am greeted by silence, followed by heavy breaths. The breaths turn to a buzz, then static and clicks. Pulling the phone from my ear, I stare at it, determine it can’t be anything good and hang up.
I will not allow anything negative to ruin this day. Today is about joy and union and new beginnings. I’m meeting with Miri in a couple of hours for a day of fun wedding activities, and after that, I’m grabbing a cold drink with our newest possible coven member, Luna.
As soon as Mom is out of the shower, I jump in, clean up, get dressed, and head to the Garden District. By foot to the ferry. From the ferry to the trolley. From the trolley to Grandma’s house.
Two big trucks are parked at the curb, and a storm of bangs and thunder echoes from the home. When Miri moved back in with Grandma after the fire, Mom and I relocated to Algiers. And Michael, he rented a room at his under-the-radar magick school.
As Grandma explained, income and upkeep became an issue. Any inherited money has run low. She decided it was time for the big house to generate an income. So work is being done to make that happen. What was once one grand masterpiece of a home, will now be two separate residences, plus a small apartment at the back. One to live in and two to lease.
Avoiding the mess of men and machinery on what I have always known as the front porch, I climb the steps to the newly built side porch and the newly installed entry. It’s a beautiful glass door that opens into a small mudroom. I guess, when all the work is complete, this will be the entrance for my family’s side of the home, since Grandma intends to rent the larger side in order to collect more cash.
I raise my hand to knock, and grandma appears on the other side of the glass. With a bright smile, she welcomes me into the home. She gives me a big hug, and Miri rushes to us, pulls me away, and wraps her arms around me.
“We are going to have so much fun today,” she says, taking my hand and dragging me toward the kitchen.
“Sure, we are,” I say. “Who wouldn’t have fun tasting a ton of different cakes.”
“My point exactly!” She blurts.
Miri’s black cat Bastian runs at our side, threatening to trip us.
“You trying to kill me?” I say to him, being careful not to stumble over his furry form. At the edge of the kitchen, he stops, sits, and stares at us. Meows.
“He’s been in a funny mood lately. Ignore him.” Miri pulls a pitcher of water out and carries it to the counter, pours herself a glass, then motions to the
