So far today, no creepy old dudes had bothered her.
Claire stood outside of the Sephora store, passing out coupons to the walkers. Most refused them, and others grabbed them out of courtesy, but as soon as they turned the corner, they crumpled them up into little balls and tossed them into the trashcan.
Sherlock lay by Maria’s feet. All the morning work was done. Popcorn had been popped, cotton candy made (which Sherlock loved, by the way), kettles cleaned, stock list for the night person written—all of it, done. Now she just had to wait for her shift to be done…in five more hours.
“I don’t think people who are part-magic should have to be bored like the rest of society,” she mused.
Don’t get too big for your britches, Maria, Sherlock warned. You may have the ability to use magic, but you’re not supposed to.
“I know, I know. Silver Griffins and all that jazz. But I used a lot of magic yesterday, and didn’t see any of those.”
Maybe, Sherlock said. They’re always watching.
“Only one way to find out.”
No, don’t do any magic. Gramps said—
“Can it. You’re not my babysitter—”
“Uh, excuse me, are you talking to yourself?” an old woman interrupted their bickering. It was the same customer Maria had chased down the day before after Ted had ripped her off.
Maria smiled, feeling the heat of embarrassment burn her cheeks. “Uh, yeah, I was. You know, gotta psyche myself up to keep going.”
“How sweet,” the old woman said.
Maria nodded and smiled. “Well, what can I get for you today?”
“Oh, dear, I don’t want anything. I had to stop by to pick up my glasses,” the old woman said. She motioned to the reading glasses hanging around her neck on a ball chain. “I wanted to see if you were here, though. I can’t express my gratitude enough for going out of your way yesterday and bringing my correct change back. If my husband was still alive, I don’t think I would’ve let that mean man swindle me like that. Surely, Earl wouldn’t have let it happen.” She looked away, toward the napkin dispensers on the front counter. “But Earl’s been dead two years now, and I’m sort of lost without him. We were together for fifty-three years.”
Maria reached out and put a hand on top of the old woman’s. “I’m sorry."
“Thank you.” She put her large purse on the counter and began rummaging through it. There were no other customers in sight, so Maria didn’t mind.
“Here,” the old woman said, pulling a tray covered in Saran wrap out from her purse. How she fit that inside, Maria didn’t know. Old women’s purses were a wonder that way; a certain type of magic not even the people of Oriceran would understand.
Smells good! Sherlock said.
Maria scooted him away from the counter and back between the ice chest and coke machine, where she laid out a makeshift bed made of coats she’d gotten from the lost and found bin.
“Can it,” Maria whispered.
The old woman pushed the tray across the counter. “For you. I made them for you.”
Maria felt her heart swell with adoration. Growing up with Gramps, the home cooking, naturally, had been odd. Those weird recipes featuring tree root and mud now made sense, but it didn’t make the memories anymore pleasant.
“Brownies and cookies,” the woman offered with a smile. She had kind eyes.
Maria leaned over the counter and hugged her. “Thank you so much.”
“No, thank you, young lady. Doing the right thing goes a long way in this world.”
Or in any world, Maria thought, because there are other worlds besides Earth.
“And not many people seem to do the right things these days. You gave me hope. Hope has not been around much in my life since Earl passed.”
Maria took a cookie—peanut butter—broke it in half, stuck one half in her mouth, and slyly let the other drop in front of Sherlock. He ate noisily.
“I’m glad I could help,” Maria said, around a mouthful of cookie. “Delicious, by the way.”
The old lady smiled and stuck her hand out. “My name is Prudence George.”
Maria took her hand. “Maria Apple. Nice to meet you.”
“I’ll think I’ll be around more often, if you’re working,” Prudence said. “My doctor says I need to get more walking in. But my tired old bones say otherwise.” She winked at Maria.
Maria, laughing, stuck another cookie into her mouth. It was chocolate chip, and it was delicious in that special way a grandma’s homemade cookies always were.
“Well, I must be going,” Prudence excused herself. “Thank you again for all your help.”
“Thank you for the goodies!” Maria enthused.
Maybe today isn’t turning out so bad, after all.
Ooooh, Sherlock mocked, jolting Maria out of her daydream, I’m Maria Apple and all the old folks like me. Oooh.
“That’s it. No more treats for you, Sherlock,” Maria said.
Aw, what? I was just kidding. Pleeeeeeease? he begged.
Maria rolled her eyes, broke off a piece of another peanut butter cookie, and gave it to Sherlock. “Fine. Only if you promise to let me know when you have to go to the bathroom.”
Sherlock didn’t answer in words. Instead, he barked. It was now a weird sound to Maria.
“Gosh, I’m actually getting used to my talking dog. Maybe I should check myself into the loony bin,” she said.
Chapter Ten
At about noon, Maria locked up the safe and the cash register to take her mandatory fifteen-minute break. The first of the two she was entitled to by Ohio state law. She wasn’t really hungry, but Claire was on her break, too, and really had a thing for the cute Chinese guy who worked at Panda Express. She’d always get fried rice and bourbon chicken, but then rarely ever ate it.
That was all right. If she did it today, Maria would just give it to Sherlock. That damn dog was
