Page 16 of A Witch’s Guide to Surviving Halloween

Chapter Ten

STELLA’S DIARY

Father’s funeral was today. At forty-two years old, pneumonia found his already weakened lungs, and there was nothing I could do.

Mama always said those years of factory work when he was young would catch up with him, but the family needed that money to keep Moonlit Pages going, and Father was nothing if not selfless.

He took that factory job so his own father wouldn’t have to permanently lock those bookstore doors, and where did that get him?

Buried beneath six feet of maggot-infested dirt.

I buried him next to Mama and left some flowers by her headstone.

She would have liked that, I think. I don’t remember her too well anymore.

It’s been so long since she passed, giving birth to my stillborn brother.

But Father buried them together, so now all three of them can spend some family time together beyond the veil.

All I have left now is Richard.

Oh, how Father loved Richard . . .

October 12, 1967

I’ve decided I’m not going to let Father’s passing be in vain. I don’t care what the banks say. It’s 1967, dammit! Women can own property, we can vote, and the government says we can own a bank account (like I needed permission from a bunch of pompous men in a courtroom somewhere).

I told Richard, and he couldn’t have been happier for me!

Said that all my moping around wasn’t like me, and he was ready to give me a good kick in the pants if it got my ass into action.

And he’s right! I know Moonlit Pages and Ashwood Haven inside and out, been working there since I was old enough to shelve books and dust spines.

I deserve Moonlit Pages and tomorrow, I’m going to march right down to the bank (well .

. . ride down to the bank in Richard’s Catalina, but you get the point) and demand they honor Father’s will!

October 14, 1967

They said no! Can you believe it? I mean, I expected it, but I just can’t believe they actually said no! Right to my face and everything. My goodness, that man couldn’t have been more condescending if I had been on my knees!

“Well, if you were married, Ms. Nova,” he said as if that matters! Needing a man’s signature, as if it were still the 40s. This is 1967! I have every right to own my family’s business, and no rat-faced man in a poorly fitted suit is going to tell me otherwise.

To think I wore Mama’s pearls for this!

October 15, 1967

I can’t believe it. I really can’t believe it.

You will never believe what Richard said to me!

I told him of my plan to go back to the bank. That I was going to sit down with Rat-Face, and I wasn’t going to leave until he agreed or I talked to his boss and got him fired. No matter what, I was going to get my business before it was taken away.

And you want to know what he said to me?

He said we should get married! That we should just get married and he would sign the papers so that I could keep Moonlit Pages and avoid all this nonsense. As if that was the point!!

Men, I swear!

I told him I would never give in to such an archaic line of thinking and that I deserved to own Moonlit Pages as much as he deserved to own The Daily Bread.

He took over the bakery a couple of years ago after his daddy died, and do you think any rat-faced man told him no?

NO! He went and signed those papers just like that! No hassle, no condescension.

But I have to be married. I have to have a man sitting next to me and patting my head like a child, making sure I stay in line.

Well, I’m not going to let anyone dictate how I run my own business. Damn them all, I’m going to do this my way.

October 30, 1967

Oh, if it hasn’t been the most awful day . . . worse than awful! I swear, I could go crawl right into the grave next to Father and die from heartbreak.

I asked Richard to drive me back to the bank today.

I thought for sure today would be the day.

I’ve been there every day for the past two weeks, sitting at Rat-Face’s desk and refusing to leave.

I told him I’d be back every single day until I got my family’s bookstore, and I meant it.

Of course, that meant I needed Richard to drive me, but he just had to drop me off in the morning and pick me up after the bank closed.

No big deal. William could run the bakery for a little while each day.

But he said no! He said this was getting out of hand and that we planned to get married anyway, so we should just do it and put an end to all of this. I swear, I could have slapped him right there. But I didn’t! (Just to make that clear)

I explained to him (yet again!) that this was about more than “getting it over with.” I want to own my family’s business.

I don’t want anyone to think I need a man to take care of me and tell me what to do.

I am just as capable as him, and the moment we get married and he signs those papers for me, I would be telling the world that I need a man to approve all my decisions.

He said it shouldn’t matter what people thought! That as long as I get to keep Moonlit Pages and run it how I want, because he would let me (L.E.T. M.E.) run it how I want, then why did it matter how we got there?

He just doesn’t get it!

How could he? He’s a man, and everything has been so easy for him!

This world was made for him. He’s never had to lay a path for himself brick by brick while people stood in the way, making the mortar go hard before you’ve even laid the next block.

If I want people to respect me as a legitimate business owner and a proper part of this community, then I need to prove I have what it takes.

He said that our love should be more important than what people think or what any bank says! The bastard even asked if I even loved him!

I walked right out. Didn’t even look back. If that’s how he wants to be, then I don’t need him either. I’ll figure this out all on my own.

Occctoberrr 30 31, 1967 DAMMIT!

Sooooo . . . I found father’ssss wisky whiskey. The goos stuff too! I never did drunk before, but tis stuffsssss good. I like the way s looks.

Ssssssssssssss

Ssssssoooooo fun to write!

Sssssscrew Richard. His name doesn’t have any sssssssss.

I’ve been thnkin’ bout Mama. Bout all the things she taught me before she died—and the book.

Oh, the book! I love the book!

Book, book, book book book boooooook.

Mama said the book sssssshould only be usessed in secret, because MEN don’t like ti. It’s always the men! Putting us women down.

Well I’ll show those Blackwood men . . . we Nova girlsssss don’t need em!

From broken heart, a thread is spun,

Two bloodlines bound ’til all is done.

Like moon to tide, their fates align,

A longing deep, a cruel design.

Where flesh meets flesh, the storm will rise,

Old grief shall sever passion’s ties.

’Til truths unfold, and masks descend,

Two wounded souls, their stories lend.

Then, the curse shall cease,

And shattered hearts find loving peace.