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“Where do you girls put it all?” Bo asked with a slightly repulsed look on his face.

Monkey grunts were the only response. He rolled his eyes and held up the carafe. “More coffee?”

Without lifting their faces from their food, they all held their cups up high.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said and topped off their mugs.

Willow swallowed a big bite and said, “You need bigger mugs.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Nice costumes, by the way. Looks like you had a wild night.”

“You have no idea,” Ivy said.

“I’m guessing you partied until dawn.”

The women exchanged a brief knowing look.

“Something like that,” Esme replied, and took a bite of sausage.

Bo cringed a little. “Remember how I said we don’t serve cholesterol here? I lied.”

“We’re not worried about it,” Bliss said. “Can you bring us some of those pink glazed donuts?”

“Yeah. Sure. Right on it,” Bo grumbled, and stomped away, and the witches continued to inhale their breakfast for the next forty minutes.

“I guess we should get back to clean up the mess,” Ivy said after they’d pretty much cleared the table.

“Yeah, agreed Bliss, rubbing her tummy. I’m beginning to regret that last donut. I feel like a balloon.”

Willow gasped. “Oh no!”

“What? What is it?” Esme questioned.

“I forgot about Talon Bickford. He’s still stuck in that bubble.”

“Oops,” said Bliss.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Ivy said.

Esme squeezed Willow’s hand. “I’ll take care of it. And also break the news about his mother to him.”

“That’ll cheer him up,” said Willow.

“He’d look so much better without that trucker hat,” said Bliss absently.

“Who? Talon Bickford?”

“No, silly. Him.” She nodded in Bo’s direction.

“Don’t even think about it,” Ivy warned. “He’ll notice if you put a glamour charm on him.”

“Not if I do it gradually. He’ll think it’s all his idea.”

Esme got up from the table and stretched. “I better get going. I’ll meet you girls back at the Moonstone?”

Willow pulled her chair from the table but didn’t feel like getting up just yet. Part of her wanted to poof the Moonstone off the planet, but that would be unfair to Montgomery’s memory.

“Well, the bookshop isn’t going to clean itself,” she said with a sigh.