The framed photo of myself, and a three-year-old Willow, was no longer central on the mantle. It wasn’t moved by much, but it made my stomach drop in anxiety. Willowcould have messed with the pillows…but she couldn’t reach the mantle. “Or maybe you’re being paranoid,” I muttered.
The urge to scan the cottage for unwanted or intrusive energy was damn near overwhelming. Biting my lip, I waited until the urge passed. I hadn’t practiced magick in almost fifteen years. I hadn’t relied on dark magick during my divorce, nor had I used it when I’d been fighting off a custody battle. In my experience, almost all spell-craft was a dangerous crutch, and I’d been standing on my own for a long time now.
I certainly wasn’t going to take up with the dark arts again because I was fatigued from relocating half way across the country and stressed out from the bridal appointment.
You did a banishing spell the other night over that ugly doll… my inner voice pointed out.
“That was different,” I muttered. I rolled my eyes for arguing with myself, shut off the lights, and headed to bed. Tomorrow was a big day, and I needed to be at my best.
***
It had taken me two hours. Probably less if I hadn’t had Willow with me, but I had transformed the seating section of Charming Cakepops into a young girl’s fantasy. Crepe paper streamers swooped festively around the space. I’d set up an eight-foot table and covered it with pale aqua cloth and layers of iridescent tulle. Pastel pink feather boas served as a table runner and white sparkling snowflakes—old Christmas ornaments from Violet O’Connell—had been worked into the arrangement.
Candice had created a two-tiered display of her cakepops in lavender and pale pink with crystal like sugar sparkles. Next to that, a platter held cupcakes all decorated in pink and pale lavender, each with a tiny ballerina dancing on the top.
To add to the fantasy effect, a dozen pink, lavender and aqua helium balloons wrapped in tulle floated around that dessert table at various heights. They swayed back and forth, their ribbon streamers weighted to the floor with a Mylar base.
I’d commandeered three of the café tables for the guests and covered them with more layers of tulle. One table had a Nutcracker for a centerpiece, another had a pair of satin toe shoes, and the third held a trio of tiny white bottlebrush trees. I’d cut another pink feather boa into thirds and had looped the feathers around each of the centerpieces.
Willow walked around the guest tables placing smaller snowflake ornaments in the feathers at the tables…and I snuck around behind Willow readjusting the snowflakes for maximum impact. When that was finished, I sprinkled confetti on the tabletops. Once I had the main components on the tables arranged to my liking, I positioned the paper plates, paper cups, coordinating napkins, and finally the glittery place cards.
I allowed Willow to ‘help’ by setting out the goodie bags on another table and she amused herself with that, and by running back and forth to see what Candice was doing in her bakery kitchen.
I was standing in my stockinged feet on a café chair, tying a final cascade of snowflakes from the hot pink chandelier, when I heard a tap on the bakery door. I saw Violet outside the door holding baskets full of flowers. I hustled to the door, flipped the lock, and let her inside.
She passed me a basket. “I wanted to get these here before Matthew brings Charlie.”
I couldn’t help but sniff at the basket of pink roses, baby’s breath, white daisies, and purple carnations. “These are adorable,” I said, and took the second bouquet from her.
“I came early,” she said. “In case you needed my help but…” her voice trailed off.
I glanced over to regard Violet standing frozen, with very wide eyes.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“Oh my goddess, Maggie.” Violet breathed. “It’s beautiful! Like a faery tale. I never expected anything like this!”
I smiled. “I believe you requested an elegant fantasy of a birthday party for Charlie, did you not?”
Walking directly to the main table, I shuffled a few things around to make the flowers work. I peeked up at Violet. She was still looking around at everything with a mile-wide grin.
“Charlie is going to lose her mind,” Violet predicted.
“I’m very glad that you’re pleased with it,” I said.
I slipped my shoes back on, took my phone out of my pocket, and snapped several pictures of the dessert tables and the entire party set-up. It had turned out well, and I intended to add the photos to my website.
***
The birthday party was a smashing success. I watched as the parents dropped off their children for the party, and their reactions to the décor and accessories was very satisfying. Charlie and her friends all had a grand time. Willow fit right in with the older children and enjoyed herself. I had the chance to meet Matthew Bell, Violet’s partner—and Charlie’s father. He thanked me for making his daughter a birthday party she’d never forget.
As the guests departed I stood by the door, passing out goodie bags. They were filled with cookies wrapped in a sparkly iridescent bag, the craft the children had made, and personalized aqua and pink chocolate candies that matched the party décor. Several mothers had asked for my business card, and I slipped them discreetly out of my jacket pocket and into their hands.
By the time the clean up was finished, Willow was snoozing in a café chair, and I gently bundled her back into her coat. To my dismay it had begun to snow during the party, and I’d had to cart the left-over decorations and tulle through what—to my eyes—seemed like a significant snowfall. Fortunately I was parked directly in front of the bakery, but I still was sliding around in my heels. I started the car to let it warm up,
