Page 8 of Magical Melee (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #1)

I awoke to a sunbeam slicing through the hotel room’s thick curtains. A golden light slid across the ceiling from a gap we’d forgotten to close last night.

For a few moments, I lay there, completely disoriented. A lingering weight in my chest kept me anchored to the bed as details of my dream started to emerge piece by piece.

It felt as if the night hadn’t passed at all. Instead, I was certain I’d been wandering through Stonewick’s streets just moments before.

My hand still tingled with the memory of touching the statue’s stone surface, and I could practically feel Frank’s unwavering presence at my side.

I turned over to see Skye, already dressed and perched on the edge of her bed, flipping through her phone.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” she chirped, looking up with a grin. “You better hurry and get ready! Our knitting class starts in an hour, and then Patrick is coming to pick me up.” Her face softened at the mention of her husband, and for a moment, I felt a pang of longing, though I quickly pushed it away.

There was nothing about Alex that should make me long for anything.

“Knitting class… right,” I muttered, sitting up and rubbing my temples, still half-trapped in the remnants of my strange dream. “You’re sure we signed up for that?”

Skye laughed, tossing a pillow my way. “Oh, you bet we did! It’s at that cute little fiber shop we passed, the one with the orange door. Besides, you need a new hobby now, right?”

I gave her a look, but the truth was, she wasn’t wrong. Since the divorce, I’d felt adrift, like everything I’d known and worked toward had been wiped clean, leaving me with an open but intimidating blank page.

Knitting… Well, it wasn’t the worst thing to try. I’d just have to ignore the fact that I’d always been all thumbs and try not to tangle my yarn.

Celeste would certainly be impressed with a handmade scarf for Christmas.

“Okay. I’m game,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and stretching, trying to shake off last night's foggy memories.

As I brushed my teeth, showered and dressed, flashes of the dream kept creeping back in—the feeling of being watched by ancient statues, the low hum of the town as if it were alive, breathing, waiting. The vine caressing me…

And Nova.

That part stuck with me the most.

But I shook myself out of it. This morning was about knitting with my BFF. Since the divorce, I specialized in leggings and oversized sweaters to hide the fact that I’d found some new BFFs in my pantry.

“Did you sleep okay?” Skye asked as I joined her by the door.

“It was an okay sleep. I haven’t really been doing great since Celeste left.”

Skye tilted her head curiously. “You look like you saw a ghost or something.”

I managed a laugh, though it sounded weaker than I’d intended. “Something like that. I had this… dream.” I hesitated, unsure if I should tell her.

Skye, who’d stuck by my side through thick and thin, knew all my quirks, but even this felt a bit out there. Obviously, since the divorce I didn’t know if I was coming or going most days, but this would really throw her for a loop.

“Oh, now you have to spill,” she said, nudging my shoulder as we stepped into the hallway.

I glanced down to see Frank sitting right where I left him. When he saw us, he stood and stepped behind us.

“Nah, it was just a little bit different than I am used to.”

“Oh, you have to tell me now. Was the dream about Keegan? Is that why you look so dopy?”

I laughed. “I don’t look dopy. Maybe, exhausted…”

She chuckled. “Spill the beans.”

“It wasn’t about Keegan.”

“Ah, that’s too bad.”

“Well,” I began, carefully choosing my words, “I dreamtI snuck out last night. Walked around the town, and then I bumped into Nova. She showed me around the town.”

I didn’t feel right telling her any of the details. For some reason, they felt too special.

Skye’s eyes widened, and she gave a low whistle. “Well, that doesn’t sound quite like what I thought.” She grinned. “But it makes sense since we’re basically living in a gothic Hallmark movie. If you’re going to have a mystical dream, this is the place to have it!”

I forced a smile, but I couldn’t quite shake the unease.

It wasn’t just the content of the dream that bothered me; it was the feeling. Everything had felt so real—the textures, the sounds, even the chill in the night air. As we made our way out of the hotel, I took a deep breath and wondered if I’d see the alleyway I’d wandered down last night.

In my dream, of course.

“Earth to Maeve!” Skye’s voice pulled me back. “There’s the shop! I can already smell the yarn from here.”

My brows quirked. “You can smell the yarn?”

She chuckled and squeezed me. “This is the perfect place for fall.”

I nodded and looked up to see the small shop with the orange door just ahead, nestled between two other historic buildings. A cheery sign hung above, reading The Stonewick Stitch, with the silhouette of a knitting needle weaving through the letters.

I followed Skye inside, where the scent of wool and lavender mingled pleasantly in the warm, inviting space.

“Okay, I can smell it too,” I confessed. “This is so cool.”

Skeins of yarn in every conceivable color lined the walls. Lavenders, purples, and blues took over one wall. Oranges, yellows, and reds onanother wall. Pinks and pastels stacked on the back wall. It was a beautiful mosaic and better than any stretch of wallpaper.

A large wooden table in the center held an assortment of needles, patterns, and accessories.

Scarves and hats hung from invisible strings above. Colorful blankets had been spread across some tables in the back.

A few other women were already seated around the table, chatting quietly, their fingers flying through chains of yarn with enviable ease. An elderly woman with sparkling blue eyes and hair in a loose bun stood at the head of the table, smiling at us as we approached.

“Welcome, welcome!” Another woman greeted us. She was younger than most in the store. “I’m Luna, and I’ll be guiding you through our little knitting adventure today. First time knitting?” She eyed us with a knowing glint.

Skye grinned and nodded. “Completely new. And honestly, I’m not sure my fingers will cooperate.”

“Well, that’s half the fun, isn’t it?” Luna replied with a chuckle. “Grab some needles, pick a yarn color you like, and we’ll get started. You’ll be amazed at how quickly your hands catch on.”

As we settled in, Skye eagerly reached for a pale pink yarn while I gravitated toward a soft, mossy green. Luna handed us needles and began explaining the basics—casting on, the knit stitch, the purl stitch. My hands were clumsy at first, the yarn slipping through my fingers as I struggled to find a rhythm. But eventually, I began to feel a small sense of accomplishment with each stitch I completed.

As Luna moved on to the next step, I let myself relax, letting the repetitive motions calm my mind. The dream drifted to the back of my thoughts, and for a moment, I felt anchored—just Maeve, learning to knit with her best friend.

Skye groaned loudly and pretended to collapse. She leaned over the table, holding up her tangled yarn above her head. “I’ve managed to make a very fashionable knot. Think I can sell it as modern art?”

I giggled and glanced down at the start of my scarf, rather impressed with myself.

The other women at the table joined in, chuckling and sharing their own knitting mishaps, and I felt a warmth settle over me. This was exactly what I needed—a simple, lighthearted morning with people who didn’t expect anything from me. For a moment, Stonewick’s mysteries faded into the background.

“Would you like any tea?” Luna asked us. “It completely slipped my mind to offer you any.”

“I’m fine,” Skye said, shaking her head. “I brought some water.”

“I’d love some.” I set my project down and followed Luna to a room behind the cash register.

I almost screamed when I saw an orange scarf float across the room. Heat radiated down my body as if I were experiencing my first hot flash.

I stopped in my tracks as the scarf folded itself over several times and slid onto the shelf without a person in sight.

Luna turned toward me. “Oops.” Her hands flung to her mouth. “I didn’t expect you to see that.”

“See what?” My eyes widened as my brain refused to believe what I just witnessed.

“Exactly.” Luna nodded, letting out a deep breath. “No harm. No foul.”

“Didn’t see a thing,” I assured her.

“What kind of tea would you like?” she asked, reaching for an electric tea kettle.

“Is it from Stella’s tea store?”

“Oh, you’ve met her,” Luna said, smiling. “No. Afraid not. That’s a little too steep for my blood. No pun intended.”

I chuckled as relief spread through me. I didn’t need any tea changing colors on me today.

Nope.

Not after I just saw a scarf float across the room, fold, and place itself on the shelf.

“So, I’ve got chamomile or peppermint.”

“I’ll take peppermint. Maybe it will liven me up after my strange dream last night.”

Luna laughed and shook her head. “I doubt it. I’ve never known teas to do much for me. Ironic, right? I’m supposed to sell the idea of magic to people, and I don’t believe in it.”

I stood still and thought back to the orange scarf.

“Well, I’m sure one has to believe in it first.” I eyed her, wondering if she actually wasn’t part of the whole Stonewick facade. “So, how do you like working here?”

She handed me a cup of tea. “Oh, I couldn’t imagine anything other than creating fiber arts.”

“Could you imagine doing it anywhere else other than Stonewick?”

Luna shook her head and laughed. “No, because the shop is bought and paid for. I inherited itfrom my grandma.”

“That’s nice.”

“It’s been a blessing, especially since I haven’t fit the mold in any other ways that my family imagined for me.”

I cocked my head slightly. “How so?”

Her cheeks reddened, and she laughed, waving for me to follow her back to the class area. “Long story.”

When we got back, I sat down and finished a few more stitches as Skye worked out the tangles in her yarn and glanced around at the ladies. They obviously didn’t need the lessons. They looked to be experts, but they seemed to love the camaraderie.

Skye’s husband, Patrick, would be arriving soon to pick her up, and while I was thrilled for her, a part of me felt that familiar gnawing again. She’d be heading back to her lifeand family while I… Well, I wasn’t sure where I’d be heading.

“Hey,” Skye said, nudging me. “You okay? You got quiet all of a sudden.”

I forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah, just… thinking. It’s been a lot these past few days.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She paused, her gaze softening as she looked at me. “Maeve, you know it’s okay if you want to stay a bit longer, right? We don’t need the car back right away. Stonewick seems to have a hold on you. And maybe that dream was a sign. You’ve been through so much—maybe this town has something for you, too. Maybe you can finally relax a little. Let go.”

I nodded and grinned, remembering something I’d asked Nova last night in my dream.

“Last night, I asked Nova for a job,” I whispered to Skye, “in my dream.”

The words hung between us, resonating with a truth I hadn’t fully acknowledged. I’d come here looking for a break from reality, a reset button to help me let go of the past. But what if Stonewick was more than just a retreat? What if it was where I was meant to start fresh?

All the women stopped knitting and stared at me. Before I could respond, the bell above the shop door jingled, and Patrick stepped in, flashing us both a sincere smile. “There you two are! Ready to go, Skye?”

“Go on,” I said, squeezing her back. “I’ll let you know when you can have your car back.”

I nearly forgot I’d be moved out of my home in two days…forever.

Skye grinned, hugging me tight. “You take care of yourself, okay? Call me the second anything interesting happens. Or if you just feel like talking.”

I nodded, hugging her back, and tried to ignore the prying eyes on me while she left.