Then came the thoughts of the village, and Duke in her dreams, and, for some reason, a great winged beast. No, why am I thinking that? That won’t happen, she thought. Her mother would never rise from the dead. There was no spell to bring her back. It may have worked on the Arachnid, but she doubted it would work on regular Oricerans—that, Maria was almost sure of. She had no intention of using dark magic when she could hardly control her newfound light-magic.
Wow! Sherlock entered the bathroom. There were bits of red cardboard on his muzzle. Maria, you look amazing.
“You’re not being a jerk?”
Me? Never!
“Thanks, Sherlock.”
Maria stood up from the stool she was sitting on. She ran her fingers through her hair. It felt softer than it ever had, and for once, it laid flat; not one stubborn strand sticking out. “Claire, you are seriously a miracle worker. I looked like a fool before you helped me.”
Claire brushed her shoulders and smirked. “No big deal. Better than working on the customers at Sephora. God, some of them can be such a pain.”
Sherlock’s ears perked up, then he barked low just as a knock came from the front door.
All of their eyes went wide, which was really saying something for Sherlock, whose eyes were almost always droopy.
“Joe!” Maria said. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, are you sure I look—”
“You look fantastic. I am an artist.” Claire pronounced it ‘arteest.’ “Now go on, before he changes his mind.”
Maria’s heart went wild in her chest. She couldn’t believe it was actually happening, that she was finally going on a date with Joe. In a way, it was almost crazier than discovering she was a witch, technically born on another planet.
She went down the steps, and Claire and Sherlock followed her about halfway, then stopped so they could watch from the shadows.
Maria opened the door, and Joe’s jaw dropped to his stomach. In his hands he held another bouquet of roses—this time blue, almost the same shade as her dress. He handed them to her shakily.
“You look…you look beautiful, Maria.”
She blushed and hoped that wouldn’t mess up her makeup. She wasn’t used to wearing any.
“Thank you. You look handsome yourself, Joe,” she replied.
Tell him if he hurts you, I’m not only gonna pee on him, but I’ll rip his balls off! Sherlock said. Maria tried her best to ignore it.
Just keep smiling, she thought.
She took the flowers into the kitchen and put them in a vase of water. She and Claire caught eyes when she passed, and Claire nodded, letting her know by way of their own best friend, mental telepathy that she would cut the stems and make sure the flowers weren’t dead by the time they got back.
Joe held the door open for her.
I mean it! Sherlock’s voice chased her.
They walked down the path arm in arm. Joe’s muscles bulged beneath the dark gray cardigan he wore.
Keep calm, Maria, keep calm, she told herself.
Suddenly, her free hand went to her waist, searching for the sword and the sword belt. Had she forgotten to take it off in her haste?
No. It wasn’t there. She could probably thank Claire for that. But she still had her music box, only because she didn’t trust it out of her hands. Gramps brought up Frodo and The Lord of the Rings earlier while they were in Oriceran, hadn’t he?
In some silly way, the music box was Maria’s One Ring. If she lost it to the spiders and their dark magic, she will have failed. And Maria did not plan on failing ever again.
Joe opened her car door. He drove a modest black Honda Civic; nothing fancy, but quite nice compared to Maria’s car—which was currently non-existent.
“Thank you,” she said.
He smiled and got in on the driver’s side.
“Where are we going?”
“I was thinking we could grab dinner. Your choice.”
Maria fanned herself, putting on a southern accent. “Oh, Joe, dahling, you’re much too good to little ol’ me.”
He chuckled awkwardly.
Instantly, Maria blushed. “Okay, let’s just completely forget that I did that.”
“Did what?”
Maria looked at Joe, confused.
He winked.
“Ah, I see. Yeah, you’re right…did what?”
“So…dahling,” Joe said, mimicking Maria’s voice almost perfectly, “where are we eating?”
Maria rolled her eyes. “Hilarious,” she said sarcastically, but in all honesty, Maria had been smiling so much since Joe came to her front door that her face was hurting, and she knew it was going to be that kind of night.
“Olive Garden?” Joe suggested when an awkward silence settled over them.
“Sounds delicious,” Maria answered. She could’ve eaten anything at that moment. How hungry she was didn’t hit her until she started picturing Olive Garden’s golden breadsticks and cheesy ravioli. Oh, no, I’m turning into Sherlock. Next thing she knew, she’d be rooting through the dumpsters behind Olive Garden and growling at any people walking by.
“Then to the Garden we go, milady,” Joe said, putting the car into reverse. As he pulled onto the deserted road, he said, “Let’s just forget I said that, too. I’m not some medieval knight. I’m sorry.”
Maria put on her best British accent (which wasn’t very good at all) and replied, “Quite all right, your grace.”
They both laughed, and for a split second, as Joe shifted into drive, their eyes met and Maria felt a fire smoldering between them.
Yes, it was going to be a fine night. The date would go well and she’d eat and be happy and perhaps Joe would even kiss her… She just hoped Gramps was okay.
The ice cream shop on Main Street in Akron, Ohio was busy. Lois looked at the line of people and thought to herself that she could really go for a chocolate-vanilla swirl—especially in this heat. Ohio was hotter than she remembered. Global warming. She shook her head.
She walked across the street and opened the door, turning sideways to squeeze by a group of high school kids dressed in baseball uniforms. The line at the counter was fifteen deep, but
