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Chapter Thirty-Eight

C lover paused her scissors mid-way through cutting a strip of paper from a grocery store sales advertisement. She sighed, and the sound seemed loud in the middle of the parlor.

She’d started making paper chains from junk mail because she’d wanted to take her mind off Whit. It was a tradition her family had done for as long as she could remember. They would save all their junk mail and bits of sting and yarn through the entire year. And the weekend after Halloween, they would cut the paper into strips, punch holes in the ends—which they would later use for confetti—and tie them into paper chains to decorate the house.

She’d thought the activity would cheer her up and occupy her mind, but it had the opposite effect. While her hands were busy, her mind was free to replay the events of the night before. One look at Whit’s expression as she’d sat on his lap told her he’d wanted her. If he hadn’t still been injured, she would have instigated him even further—no matter how exhausted she was from using up her magic.

His healing was more important than her scratching the itch she’d felt since she’d first kissed him.

Not only that, but the fact that she was sitting alone doing the activity she normally did with her family—who were still not talking to her—made her sadder than she’d expected.

She finished cutting the paper and was punching holes in the ends when she heard a knock on the door. Rising from her place on the floor, she carefully stepped over her piles and went to answer the summons.

Realization crashed down on her when she found Lina standing on her doorstep. She’d gotten completely sidetracked. The winter witch she’d befriended at the cemetery was coming over for tea today. Clover had even baked cupcakes that morning, which were long-cooled but yet unfrosted.

Lina tilted her head, staring at the long strings of yarn Clover had draped over her shoulders. “Is now a bad time?”

“No! Of course not.” Clover smiled embarrassedly. “I just got a little distracted. Please, come in.”

Clover stepped aside so Lina could enter, then closed the door behind her.

Lina looked at Clover’s piles in the parlor.

“Please excuse the mess. I was in the middle of a craft project.” She pointed toward the dining room. “Let’s have tea in here. I’ll put the kettle on.”

Clover rushed through the dining room into the kitchen, cursing internally that she’d forgotten to finish the cupcakes. At least I thought ahead enough to set out a selection of teas .

As she waited for the pot of water to boil—again reminding herself she needed to buy a kettle—she put a few unfrosted cupcakes on a plate.

When she entered the dining room with her teapot of hot water and the plate of cupcakes, she found Lina gazing at the photos on Whit’s ancestor altar.

Lina frowned, a wistful look in her eyes. “It’s been nearly thirty years since my husband died,” she said softly. “We weren’t even married for five though I’d known him practically my whole life. To this day, I’ve never met anyone who could compare to him.”

“You must miss him a lot,” Clover responded gently.

Lina turned to her with a sad smile. “Every day.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Approaching the table, Lina took a seat. “Thank you, but even though I miss him, I don’t feel lonely. I feel him around me quite a lot, especially while our son was growing up. And he visits me often in my dreams. It’s not the same, of course, but it gets me through the hard times.”

Clover motioned toward the selection of teas she’d laid out on the table, telling Lina to pick whatever she liked.

“You have a son together? That’s nice, but it must have been hard to raise him on your own.”

Lina smiled that smile only mothers could. “At times, but my husband’s family was there to help, as was mine. And he wasn’t a terribly difficult child. He’s much more like me in personality than he’s like his father, so we usually understand each other…until recently, that is.”

Clover felt her words keenly. She and her parents had always gotten along until recently, too. She didn’t ask Lina to elaborate. She didn’t want to pry. After putting leaves into her tea sieve, she poured hot water into her cup.

“How long have you been married?” Lina asked, pouring water into her own cup.

Clover rubbed her thumb against the rings on her finger. “Not long. I’m still a newlywed.”

“And what’s your husband like? How did you meet?”

Lina’s dark eyes seemed eager to hear her story, so eager that Clover couldn’t just brush off her questions. Something about this witch’s strong yet quiet presence made Clover want to confide in her. Still, she chose her words carefully.

“We met at a party.” Clover couldn’t help but smile to herself. “He was wearing this mask, so I couldn’t even see his face. Anyway, there was this guy there—not really an ex-boyfriend, more like a guy I went on a date with. He was pestering me—you know, following me around and stuff. And Whit sort of swooped in and saved me. That pretty much covers who he is as a person, I think. He’s quiet, serious. He worries a lot—too much if you ask me. But I know he’ll always be there when I need him most. We might be different, but I know we’re meant for each other.”

Lina stared at Clover as if trying to internalize every word.

Clover felt a little uneasy under the older woman’s steady gaze. She smiled and offered her the plate of cupcakes. “Would you like a cupcake? I’m sorry they’re unfrosted… I didn’t get the chance to make the frosting.”

Lina nodded, returning her self-conscious smile with a gentle one of her own. “That’s all right. I prefer them this way anyway. I don’t like sweets very much, so that would have been too much sugar.”

“Oh, would you like me to get you something else? I think there are some crackers in the cupboard.”

Lina shook her head. “This is fine. Thank you. But that reminds me, I brought you something.”

Clover blinked. “Something for me?”

Lina reached for her purse, which was hanging on a dining room chair with her coat. “Of course. It isn’t polite to show up empty handed, is it?”

On the table, Lina placed a small wooden box. “Go ahead,” she said, nodding to Clover.

Clover gasped when she opened it. Resting on a bed of blue satin was a silver comb, the swoops and swirls of a Celtic knot beside the thick tines. “Oh my gods, it’s beautiful.” She gently ran her finger along the edge, then glanced up at Lina. “But this is way too much. I only gave you tea and an unfrosted cupcake. I can’t accept this.”

Lina shook her head in a way that would take no refusal. “Think of it as a token of friendship, not as a mere visiting gift.”

Clover’s heart warmed at the gesture, and she thanked the woman with all the sincerity she could muster.