Page 5 of Magic Blooms

four

After warming myself up in the shower and changing into a pair of oversized pajamas that Lorraine graciously lent me, I fell into a deep and much-needed sleep. The bed, while soft and comfortable, did have one drawback.

It wasn’t my bed.

Now that night had come, I’d officially spent an entire day in this strange new world. Unfortunately, I was no closer to getting home than I had been when I’d woken up here. In fact, I probably wouldn’t be able to find that random field just beyond the forest if I tried.

Which meant I might actually be farther away than when I’d started.

I wouldn’t be sidetracked today, though.

That’s what I promised myself as I lay awake staring at the ceiling early the next morning.

As soon as I managed to pull myself out of bed, I was going to go find Lorraine and get her to help me like she’d promised before the raging storm took over the rest of our day.

That conviction was quickly tossed away when Lorraine pushed my door open—once again with no announcement—and threw some clothes and shoes at me.

“Don’t just sleep your life away,” she clucked, sounding more animal than human. “We’ve got a full day ahead of us.”

And with that, she was gone again.

A part of me wanted to stay put, if only to prove a point. But the larger part was most eager to get to work. So I reluctantly pulled myself out of the bed and started dressing myself in this newly proffered set of ill-fitting and ill-matched clothing.

Oh, if only Dante could see me now!

Today brought another pair of drawstring bottoms and an enormous T-shirt with the neck stretched practically into oblivion. It only covered the tops of my arms, and there was some sort of art on the front of the top that I couldn’t place.

The provided footwear exposed my toes but did have strong straps and a base that would protect the bottoms of my feet. Hopefully, it wouldn’t rain again today. Hopefully, I wouldn’t make it.

Lorraine had provided me with a brush for my hair the night before, and I’d lovingly worked through all the damage my abrupt arrival had caused.

At least one thing was finally under control.

Make that two, because the puffiness around my eyes had also receded, leaving my skin smooth and blemish-free.

Whatever had sent me here had obviously stressed my body in untold ways.

Though, maybe the improvement in my physical appearance heralded a quietening of my elemental powers, too? Was I naturally adjusting to being here? Seeing as I refused to put that to the test and risk causing another major catastrophe, time would have to tell on that one.

Once dressed and wearing my hair in the ubiquitous braid crown I preferred, I emerged from my room slowly, not quite sure where Lorraine had run off to. But it was easy enough to follow the metal clanging sounds to where she was cooking up her own storm.

“You’re here! Wonderful. Start whisking these.” She pushed a bowl into my hands along with a wiry instrument.

“What is this?” I asked as I stared skeptically at the gooey contents.

“Eggs, honey. We’re making country omelets for the guests today, so you’re going to whisk those up like crazy, and then I’ll add some cheese and meat and fry them up. Now go on, start stirring. I’ve got the grits to tend to.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could get a word in, she continued to prattle away.

“I know Yankees don’t usually like grits, but when they have my brown sugar honey grits, they all leave singing a different tune. Believe you me.” She paused again, then grabbed my arm. “Don’t just stand there. Start whisking!”

Lorraine widened her eyes and made a spinning motion with her hand to get her point across. Dutifully, I began to spin the whisk, dissolving the golden orbs and clear goo into one bright yellow mixture.

Since I didn’t really know what I was doing, I just kept on stirring until Lorraine took the bowl from me and started to add a variety of spices followed by the cheeses and meats she’d spoken of, before throwing it all onto a hot metal instrument.

Immediately the smell started to draw me in. “I thought you were going to help me,” I said as I found myself wandering closer to the cooking surface. I looked forward to tasting what was coming but also couldn’t lose sight of what was most important.

“Yes, honey, but this is a bed and breakfast. If I can’t provide my guests with the breakfast part of that equation, what good would I be?

Besides, you need to eat, too.” Lorraine then flipped the egg mixture over and allowed it to continue cooking on the other side.

I certainly wouldn’t mind taking a few bites of one of those…

“You ever flipped an omelet before?” she asked. This woman really wasn’t going to take it easy on me.

“No. And it doesn’t look like something I can do either.”

“Nonsense. It’s easy.” She put one completed omelet onto a plate.

“You spread some butter down, put a ladle full of mixture, and flip when it looks like that.” She demonstrated the steps before stepping out of the way and rummaging through the drawers for various plates and cutlery.

Once again she left me with no choice. Either let the mixture burn or do my best to mimic her performance.

Thankfully, the simple instructions proved to be effective as I managed to turn the omelet over without dropping it to the floor. So I kept on, layering butter and then more of the egg mixture over and over again until I’d made ten such omelets.

When I’d finished, Lorraine plated them each beside a small bowl of the white substance she called grits and then added a flower to each of the plates for decoration before taking them out one-by-one to serve her guests.

I wasn’t happy about being turned into a cook, but I had to admit I was proud of myself. The whole place smelled so good that my mouth was now shamelessly watering with hunger. Blessedly, Lorraine had held two plates back for us to eat in the kitchen.

The room was large enough for both of us to cook without getting in one another's way. There was also a large central area with backless chairs for us to sit on. This made me wonder if she was intentionally keeping me apart from the guests or if she always dined on her own.

Lorraine came back from the dining room and collapsed onto one of the chairs and rested her head in her hands. “Whew. Another breakfast pulled off. I never know how I get those done.”

She then looked at me through her widely splayed fingers and huffed. “Well don’t just stand there. Grab a fork and dive in.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I picked up the utensil she’d pointed at and started to dive into the omelet I’d helped prepare.

“Oh my goodness,” I moaned at the first bite. “This is amazing.”

Lorraine also took a bite and smiled. “Simple, but effective. Just like all the best parts of life. We did a good job.”

“Speaking of doing a good job, when do we work on getting me back home?”

“Always with the one-track mind, you are.” Lorraine chuckled and took another bite. “First thing’s first, I suppose. Tell me, where is your home?”

“Vilea. It’s a beautiful place that works in utter harmony with the natural world.”

“Oh boy. You’re really not going to like it here.”

“Your world is pleasant in unexpected ways,” I said, paying it the best and truest compliment I could.

“I don’t think I’d mind visiting so much, if I knew for a fact I’d be going home soon.

” I liked Lorraine, and I didn’t mind spending time with Oinkers, Ranger, or Joshua, either.

Add to that the wonderful food, and I could get used to this, even with the unseemly choice of attire.

“Hmm. I’ve never heard of Villa—what now?”

“Vilea,” I supplied after finishing my eggs with great speed.

“Either way, I’ve never heard of it. But you’re in the right place, if you just had to get lost. Elyria, our town, is smack dab in the middle of Peach Plains.

It’s an interdimensional magical intersection of worlds.

So I’m guessing you came through one of those pockets.

The challenge will be opening a doorway back to your world.

For that we’ll need to go into town and see if Jasmine can help us. ”

I leaned forward. This was good! It sounded like Lorraine actually did have a plan.

I took a bite of the lumpy white stuff in the tiny bowl beside my plate and immediately closed my eyes to savor the blissful mix of flavors.

It wasn’t much to look at, but once I got past the unusual texture, I could have died of culinary happiness.

“This is also amazing,” I said again, failing to express just how wonderful I found the new food to be.

Lorraine just winked at me. “Right? Gotta keep the southern spirit strong. The guests love it. The trick is to add a whole lot of butter and just a sprinkle of sugar to get anything to taste better. It might not be rocket science, but the kitchen is where I show off my smarts.”

Once again, I didn’t really know what Lorraine was talking about, but I didn’t care.

I ate the grits as quickly as possible, craving each new bite before I finished the last. Considering this, maybe I should keep the oversized clothes.

I’d be able to fit into them soon enough if I kept on eating like this.

For whatever reason, that was when I finally remembered my manners.

“The man I was with yesterday, Joshua. Is he okay?” After we’d gotten the pigs back into the barn, he’d disappeared every bit as quickly as he’d first shown up.

“Joshua, huh? That boy will be fine. He always is.”

“He wasn’t fine. That building collapsed on him. I saw it. I thought something would be broken.”

“He’s harder to break than you might think.” Lorraine’s brows furrowed. “Believe me, I know.”

“How do you know him?” As far as I’d been able to discern, he’d just shown up with the storm last night.

“Don’t worry about it, dear. He’s just another Peach Plains refugee. Sometimes when the magical folk can’t cut it in the real world, they end up here. He does odd jobs for me and anyone else who needs it.”

“So he’s magical, too?” Was that why he’d been so suspicious of me? Because he was keeping the exact same secret himself?

“What is he?” I blurted out even though it was impolite. “How many people here are magic? I thought you said magic was supposed to be a secret.”

“Oh, those are some hard questions. Magic in our world is all kept very hush hush. We’re severely outnumbered by those who have no magic at all and refuse to hear that such a thing even exists.

As for Joshua, yes, I do know what he is, but it’s also a very personal thing.

That would be a secret for him to reveal. Not me.”

Of course, that just made me want to know more. “So I shouldn’t tell anyone how I got here?” I summed up, trying to bring us back around to the main topic of concern.

“You should use the utmost discretion when it comes to discussing your powers.”

“Even with you?”

Lorraine smiled at me. “Especially with me,” she said with another exaggerated wink.

“But I’ll try to tell you who you can trust and who you can’t.

Joshua is a good boy, if a bit rough around the edges.

Assume that any guests here don’t know a thing about the magical realms. Oh, but if you happen across a certain Gerry Carpenter, watch out.

Magic or not, he’s a dirty warlock. Don’t trust him as far as you can throw him. ”

She thought about that for a moment, then laughed sarcastically. “I’m assuming you don’t have a lot of strength. Just don’t trust him.”

“Gerry? That’s the other innkeeper, right?”

“He runs the Pinecrest, seven miles down the road. I’ve run Fox’s End for twenty years, yet he thinks he can just roll on in and open up a brand-new place? Not on my watch, buddy.”

I had a feeling this rivalry went deeper than my hostess was prepared to let on. “I’ll make sure to avoid him as much as possible,” I promised with a firm nod.

“You do that, dear heart. All right now. I’m going to check on the Yanks, and then we can head into town.”

I eyed the cookware she’d used to make the grits, wondering if now might be a good time to scrape the edges of the pan and savor every last drop of the good stuff.

Lorraine went to a large white box and opened a door, pulling out a package of something labeled Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, then turned back to me with a knowing grin. “Why don’t you get started on a new batch of cookies? Nothing guests like more than freshly baked homemade cookies.”

“But—” I began before Lorraine cut me off again.

“Stop worrying so much, Princess, and start living,” she said before dumping our plates in the sink and making a hasty exit.

Princess, she’d said. But how did she know so much about me when I knew so little about her?