Page 10 of Magical Melee

My breath hitched when I heard my dad’s words tumble out of this stranger’s mouth.

“Be the magic,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I can’t be anything other than what I am, and it’s certainly not magical, or I would have seen that my husband was a lying, cheating son of a bitch.”

Stella laughed and shook her head. “That’s not what magic is all about. If we could always see into our future, there would be a bunch of fruitcakes like me dancing around with no care in the world, existing in a perfect bubble of bliss while zapping those who wronged us with a fancy little wand.”

I chuckled and adjusted my foot under Frank. “Doesn’t sound half bad to me.”

“Oh, it would be a boring existence,” Stella said softly. “Imagine if you sat at your crystal ball the morning of your wedding and saw that your dirtbag of a husband would cheat on you in your marriage, so you up and left him before you saidI do.” Her eyes focused sharply on mine, and her voice lowered. “What would you be missing?”

My heart stopped. “Celeste.”

Stella’s lip curled slightly. “Magic is a potent weapon of surprise, but it’s not meant to live by. Life is magic in itself.”

I studied the old woman before me, wishing I even had an ounce of belief like she did. “You believe in magic.”

Stella smiled wryly and tucked a stray silver hair behind her ear. “I believe in myself, and that is quite enough magic for me, dear.”

Chapter Three

I’d stuffed the envelope in my purse as I opened the bright purple door leading into Stonewick Mystics & Tellers. I didn’t want to be late, and I could look at whatever Keegan gave me after my mind had a minute to decompress. If he owned the hotel, it probably had to do with something about staying there. Skye had put far too much effort into this weekend’s events to let her down.

The softly lit room smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg, and I had to stifle a chuckle as I thought about pumpkin spice. Now, that would be a yummy tea at Stella’s, and maybe it wouldn’t change color on me.

I glanced around, expecting to see my friend, but another woman was organizing some lavender crystals in the corner.

Shelves lined the room, holding leather-bound volumes on mysticism and divination. Jars of herbs tucked next to various crystals worked as bookends. Dried flowers hung along the far wall where an opening with wooden beads draped to the floor.

“May I help you?” the woman asked, cocking her head slightly. Her golden, braided hair hung along her green velourshirtdress. Bangles along her wrist jingled as she took a step forward.

“My friend is here for a reading, and I’m next, apparently,” I said, smiling. “Maeve Lovitt.”

The air turned stuffy, and the sweet scents overwhelmed my senses as I waited for the woman to answer.

“Ah, yes. Your friend should be done shortly.” Her smile turned kinder, making me wonder what sort of customers she was used to receiving. “Feel free to look around or take a seat over there.”

“Thank you.” I drew a breath and chuckled. “I’m not sure I’d know what I was looking at, so I’ll just sit instead of pretend I have a clue about this stuff.”

The woman grinned. “It will all fall into place. It always does.”

I nodded. “That’s what I tell myself.” I wasn’t sure if the woman was talking about life, readings, or understanding what surrounded me in this tiny shop.

The room felt timeless, as if this part of the world no longer needed to be measured in hours and minutes. It was crazy to think such a place even existed. Still, as I stared at the flickering candles atop the counter and the colorful, worn books on the shelves behind, it felt like past, present, and future all blurred together in a mirage of understanding.

I sucked in a deep breath as my heart twisted with some longing as I glanced across the street to the tea shop. Something about Stella and Frank, the English bulldog, made me want to venture back there before we left town.

Or maybe it was the tea. Judging by my reaction to this place, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Calmora blend I chose contained a little something extra, and at this point in my life, I’d gladly take it.

It was as if the longer I sat here, the more I believed that some woman flashing a deck of cards could actually tell me something about my life.

A few weeks ago, I would have laughed at the notion.

Today?

I couldn’t wait to see what she had to say for herself or me.

If my reading was as confusing as the tea I drank earlier, it should be quite a ride for both of us.

You know, if a person were to believe in such things as magical teas and tarot readings.