Page 18 of Charmed, I'm Sure
1. Ghost cupcakes (get extra frosting)
2. Maple latte (Maybe a little less sugar than mine?)
3. Coffee Mug that says “Came for the Hex, Left with his Ex”
4. Book of poetry? Wait, no I think I need a box of treats for Nyx. Must search what kinds of treats do foxes like?
5. Something sparkly? Or maybe something with bats? Or is that vampires? Is it only spider webs and spiders?
I’m deep in the zone, the wooing zone. I’m halfway through the list of ideas. I’m probably really far off the markwith some of these. I wonder if Elora would be willing to help me out. Surely she would tell me if any of these would lead to me being turned into a toad, right? I’m definitely thinking the sparkly one is an instant toad transformation for sure.
The temperature in the room drops at least ten degrees as the hairs on my arms stand up like I stuck my finger in an electric socket.
Before I can even consider what is happening, let alone turn around, there’s this weirdpop!and a sudden whoosh of the gross smell of lavender and moth balls as something materializes directly behind me.
“WHAT IN THE—”
I yelp like a school girl in a haunted house, very unmanly I might add, before I launch myself over the kitchen island. My pen flies through the air. Milo snarls inside me, pushing to the surface, ready to attack whatever it is. And standing there—well, floating really—is a ghost straight out of a 1950’s housewife’s guide, complete with a house dress and victory rollers. She’s even smoking? Is that even possible?
My heart is trying to freaking claw its way out of my chest and out the window, right along with my soul. Milo is threatening to take over like we are about to duel with a witch and possibly be marked for spiritual repossession all at once.
Grabbing the rolling pin on the countertop between us, I wave it in front of me like a magical wand destined to fight the evil wizard.
“Hocus pocus ghostus erasus!” I shout, waving it in an x formation like sparks are going to fly out of it and into the ghost. “Go back to the light…or dark…or grave. I don’t know! Wherever it is you came from?”
The ghost blinks at me. Taking another puff off her cigarette, seeming even less impressed by my display then Bellamy was when I walked out my front door that first time.
She sighs as she pops her hip against the counter, leaning over to read the list I started before she tsks and looks backup to me.
“Bit dramatic don’t you think,” she asks, floating around the island beside me. I’m just staring at her,through her?
“The name’s Matilda and I’m going to help you win her over, pup. Because,” she flicks a thumb towards the paper on the counter, “that’s going to definitely help you get to this side of the veil and not into her good graces.”
“Rigggght…but why are you in my kitchen?”
“Well, as I said, I’m Matilda March, supernatural matchmaker to the cursed, the damned, and…the emotionally hopeless,” she says with a hook of her eyebrow. Her eyes scan down me as if she can read all the thoughts running through my mind. “And you, pup, are in luck.”
She flicks her ghost ashes into my sink like she owns the place and that it isn’t strange a ghost is smoking a cigarette on one of those weird stick things. “I’ve brought together banshees and necromancers, vampires and vegans, even a selkie with a fire elemental—briefly. Sure, sometimes they implode spectacularly, but every heartbreak is just a lesson in whatnotto do.”
“Uh…”
“Case in point, Timeotheo Bellini. We all call him Tim, but don’t let him hear you call him that. He was a sweet man with good posture who loved karaoke. I thought I was a genius when I set him up with the haunted librarian. Unfortunately, she was cursed to turn into fog at midnight. How was I supposed to know that? Do you know how hard it is to kiss fog? He leaned in to plant their first kiss and she poofed into fog. Next thing he knew, he was headless. Tragic really. Now he rides a bright yellow Vespa around town blasting disco music and haunting everyone’s earbuds with ‘Stayin’ Alive’.”
“You…you set him up with a woman who turned into fog?”
“Lesson learned darling,” she says, as if that explains anything. “Oh, and avoid dating cursed mirrors. Or gorgons. Or anyone whose family crest involves a skull on fire. Trust me.”
“I don’t even know that I’ve ever come across a cursed mirror. Let alone a gorgin? Gorgon? Who has a family crest on fire?”
She just blinks slowly at me like I’m possibly the biggest idiot she’s ever come across. She starts pacing, ticking off her disasters on translucent fingers. “There was the witch and the were-rooster…don’t ask. The elf who tried to court a kraken…that was a tsunami of a disaster. And then there was the poltergeist who fell in love with a demon accountant.”
“I didn’t even know there was a demon accountant. What is a were-rooster?” I mumble under my breath, and she just continues as if I didn’t say a word.
“Never mix poltergeist energy with anyone who does taxes for fun. I barely survived.”
“You barely survived? You’re already dead.”
“Exactly, which makes it all the more impressive.” She leans in like she’s letting me in on the secret of the universe. “And now, I’m going to help you win over Bellamy Grimsbane, whether she likes it or not.”