The next morning, I decided that it was time to fill the fridge, reacquaint myself with the town, and as much as I was reluctant to, I would contact Conjure Ink and ask about the job.
I dressed with care—if they asked me in for an interview right away, I wanted to look good. I decided on black jeans, a royal blue tank with silver trim below the bust line, and a black lace overshirt shirt. I threaded a silver belt through my belt loops. Then, after zipping up my ankle boots that had chunky heels so I wouldn’t slip in the snow, I brushed my hair back, holding the cascade of waves in place with a bright blue headband. I finished with my makeup. I loved the glamour girl look, and I could pull off heavy black eyeliner and a deep purple lip lacquer. One thing about the extra weight I carried—it tended to smooth out some of the little lines that had begun to appear. I was a month away from turning forty-one, and I was determined to enjoy this decade, given my twenties and thirties had been increasingly unpleasant.
Heading downstairs, I made sure my reading glasses were in my purse before I went hunting for coffee and food.
Moonshadow Bay was close to sea level, but I lived up on a hill and I noticed as I drove down into the main part of town that I had considerably more snow than the lower-lying houses. I found an espresso stand—Jitterbug Jolt—and ordered a triple-shot peppermint mocha with extra whipped cream. If Ellison had been around, I would have done without the whipped cream and asked for sugar-free, but he wasn’t, so I didn’t.
The freedom of being out from under his scrutiny hit me full force as I prepared to head into the supermarket. No more kale, no more low-fat dressing and sugar-free healthy muffins. No more bean sprouts and lean chicken breast. I could buy whatever the hell I wanted and not have him watching every mouthful of food that I put between my lips. All that the enforced dieting had done was make me miserable. Calories in, calories out, my ass.
Laughing, I grabbed a cart and headed inside. As I began to peruse the aisles, I heard someone calling my name.
“January? January Jaxson, is that you?”
I turned to see Millie O’Conner, one of my high school buddies. I hadn’t seen her in about a decade, when I was on a trip home during the holidays and we ran across each other in the local BayMart Shopping Mall.
“Millie! Hey, how are you?” I wheeled my cart out of the center of the aisle. “What’s up?”
“Well, I’m now the chief of police,” she said, grinning. She had been a detective on the force last time we had run across one another.
“Congrats!” I was genuinely happy for her. Millie had always been one of those girls who never took guff from anybody, and never let bullying go on if she could step in. “I’ve moved back to town,” I said. “Just the day before yesterday.”
Her smile slid away. “I’m so sorry about your folks. I heard about the accident. I would have come to the funeral, but I was out on a case that day and couldn’t get away.” She ducked her head. “Your parents were a fixture in the community. It won’t be the same without them. But I’m glad to hear you moved back. Is your husband with you?”
I could tell she was trying to diplomatically ask if I was still married.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I left him back in Seattle with his soon-to-be trophy wife. I wasn’t good-enough arm candy. He also bilked me out of my half of the magazine and the house, so if I sound a little bitter, well…I am.” I snorted. “Anyway, I am truly happy to be back. And trust me, I’m never, ever getting married again.”
She laughed. “You say that now, but I bet somebody will make you sit up and take notice. I’m glad that you’re free of him, though, and I’m sorry he was such an asshole.” She glanced at her cart. “I’d love to stick around and chat, but I need to get the ice cream home before it melts, and then head in to work. Luckily, it’s a slow day, crime-wise.”
We exchanged contact info and headed in our respective directions.
The house was pretty much empty except for the cocoa and cookies that Ari had brought over, so I filled the cart with staples, meats, dairy, and produce. By the time I was ready to check out, the cart was overflowing with so much food that the checker grimaced when she saw me. I tried not to laugh as I unloaded the groceries onto the conveyor belt and placed a dozen reusable bags on top.
“I just moved back to town,” I said. “I’m afraid I bought out the store.”
At that, she laughed. “We’ll get through it,” she said, motioning to one of the few bagboys left in the world of supermarkets. He began bagging my groceries, making sure the bags weren’t too heavy. Even though I had brought twelve bags with me, he still needed to use four paper ones.
I ran my credit card through—one of the first things I had done the day after I found Ellison with his head between his girlfriend’s legs was to take my name off our credit cards and apply for my own. At least that had been successful—my lawyer had argued in court that, since a lot of what Ellison had charged had ended up going to his mistress, he should bear the brunt of paying them back. I had effectively stuck him with fifty grand worth of debt and walked away with a clean credit report. While it hadn’t made up for losing the magazine or the house, it provided some solace.
After shopping, I decided to take the groceries home before doing anything else.
My parents had recently upgraded the kitchen. It had dark espresso cabinets and white quartz counters, and a double wall oven. The ceiling was white, and the walls were a pale blue. The entire room felt crisp and clean. The window over the sink overlooked the backyard, and from there, I could see Mystic Wood State Park, just beyond the back fence. The yard spread out to the left and right, and was a good half-acre wide. The grass was currently covered with about an inch of snow.
I had long finished my mocha, so I made myself a sandwich for brunch and wandered out to the back porch. A wide screen door leading to the backyard was in the center of the enclosed porch, and to my right, a bistro table and four chairs sat protected from the elements. While the snow and rain could get through the screens, they deflected a lot of the moisture.
The temperature had to be only in the upper thirties, so I decided that eating my breakfast out there wasn’t an option, but I took a moment to look over the yard. I had repeatedly snuck into the park, sometimes with Ari and sometimes alone, but almost always against my parents’ wishes. There was so much magic residing in that forest that I could barely breathe at times—it was intoxicating. I hadn’t been there since my teen years, though. The desire to run off and tromp through the snow hit me, but I had things to do still, so I whispered, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The forest seemed to hear me and the wind gusted, shaking the trees.
I headed inside, giving the yard itself one last look. The roses were overgrown, and some of the trees needed trimming. Winter was a good time to take care of pruning, so I made a note to call a lawn care service because I had no clue what to do. I wasn’t a green witch, that was for sure. My magic took other forms.
I looked around the kitchen and sighed. If I didn’t call Conjure Ink, somebody else might get the job. And I needed to work until I could brush up on my magic. I had dreams of following in my mother’s footsteps and setting out my shingle. My mother had hired out as a card reader, ghost buster, and spellcaster. And I knew that if I could level up my skills, I could take over her clientele, if they hadn’t already moved on to someone else. But in the meantime, I needed to find work so that I could keep my savings account intact.