“Long story,” Claire went on. “Anyway, my car’s a little messed up, but hey, that’s what insurance is for, right?” She shrugged. “Better than a dead friend.”
“You think insurance covers giant spider accidents?” Tabby asked.
“I’ll just say it was a deer,” Claire said.
“Good idea.”
Gramps walked closer to the table Maria was on. He stared at his granddaughter for a moment, taking in how much she looked like her mother, the Queen Witch, and smiled. Then the two hugged for a long moment.
“It’s over for now,” Gramps whispered into Maria’s ear.
When they parted, Maria said, “Not yet. We still have a village to save.”
Gramps nodded. “That we do. But we can’t do it on an empty stomach now, can we?”
Sherlock barked. Inside of Maria’s head, he said, Hell no!
They all laughed.
“I don’t know if I’m really in the mood for ice cream,” Maria said. She rubbed at her temple. Honestly, she was really in the mood for sleep.
“What?” Claire said, her mouth in a perfect O-shape. “Maria Apple isn’t in the mood for buckeye ice cream? That’s blasphemous!”
“You don’t even know what blasphemy is,” Tabby said and nudged Claire with her elbow.
“What about pancakes?” Salem asked.
“Yes!” the Muffler twins said simultaneously as always.
“Pancakes don’t sound bad,” Maria said. “But where the hell are we gonna get pancakes at this ungodly hour?” It was well past midnight. The town was asleep.
“A new Denny’s just opened up not too far from the mall,” Agnes said. “Haven’t tried it yet, but I’ve heard good things. Open 24/7, too.”
Gramps smiled. “There you have it, Maria.”
They helped her off the table.
“We can take my car,” Claire said, pulling her keys out of her pocket and disarming the alarm with a beep.
They went outside. Claire’s car looked like it had been cleaved down the middle of the hood. There was a string of black goop and web-like hair caught in the grille. Maria, limping, wiped it away, hoping no one noticed. She didn’t want their festive mood dampened.
They all piled into Claire’s car, nine bodies in a five seater. Maria and Tabby in the front, the rest in the back except for Sherlock, who sat on the floor of the front seat, tangled up between the girls’ legs.
It was uncomfortable, and a bit smelly, but in a weird way, it was home. Because the people in this car—the witches and wizards and humans and dog—were all part of Maria’s family, her tribe.
The waitress pushed together two tables in the middle of the dining room. There was no one inside the Denny’s this late, and the waitress, an older woman with bleached-blonde hair, just seemed happy to have some business. Bigger parties meant bigger tips, so she didn’t protest when Sherlock sauntered into the room, wagging his tail, with strings of drool dripping from his drooping cheeks.
These people look like they’ve been through World War III. Oh my, the girl is wearing a sword on her hip, the waitress thought with an odd smile on her face. Even the dog looks frazzled. What I would give to find out what the heck these people have been up to tonight. She read them the special and took their drink orders.
“I’ll be back in a moment to take your food orders,” she said, still smiling—gotta work for those tips. Though this group, as haggard and beaten as they seemed, was happy. Really happy.
The waitress, whose name was Ilene, thought back to her own youthful days, and of her family that was mostly gone or scattered across the United States, and, in Frank’s case, Canada. She missed them. She promised to herself that after her shift was over, she was going to give her eldest daughter, Savanna, a call. She lived in California, three hours behind. It would only be midnight when Ilene got off; Savanna would be up. Maybe she’d even fly out to visit her. God, how long has it been? Three years? Five?
She came back with the drinks: Coca-Colas, lemonades, hot teas with lemon, and a milkshake for the dog. “Now, what can I get you nice folks to eat?”
Maria spoke up.
She didn’t realize it, but she had become the leader of the group. Had she realized it, she might’ve refused the job—but it had come as naturally as a summer thunderstorm in the dead of night. There was no denying destiny.
“Well, Ilene, I think we are going to order a bunch of pancakes,” Maria said. She had discovered a hunger in her she did not know was possible. Such was common after the heat of a battle. Ignatius Apple could attest to that.
She looked down the length of the table both ways. She sat in the middle, Tabby and Claire on each side of her, Ignatius and Sherlock across.
The rest of the group nodded.
“I definitely want a stack of blueberry,” Maria said.
“Yeah, blueberry,” Claire said.
“I’ll do chocolate chip,” Tabby said.
“Same,” the Muffler twins answered.
“Do you have banana?” Ignatius asked.
“Yes, we do. We have banana nut, banana, and chocolate banana,” Ilene answered. She didn’t have her pad out to take the order. Never needed it.
“Ooh, chocolate banana,” Salem said. “Sign me up!”
“We’ll share,” Agnes said, motioning to her and Salem.
“I’ll do banana nut,” Ignatius said. “Thank you very much.”
Maria leaned forward. “Oh, and we’ll probably want seconds. Tell your cook to keep the griddle warm.”
Ilene grinned. “Oh, it always is, young lady. I’ll have those right out to you.”
“What a good idea,” Maria said. “Pancakes. Nothing is better when you’re starving. You know, I could probably even go for some ice cream when we’re done, after all.”
Salem nodded.
“Not with your cholesterol,” Agnes said, hitting him in the chest. Salem rolled his eyes.
“No fun,” he said.
The pancakes came not too long after they ordered them. Buckets of syrup and trays of butter were passed around the table. Another waitress
