Almost.
“I’ve always loved this store,” Sofia said, echoing my thoughts exactly. “The stuff your mom comes up with is so much better than anything you’d ever find in a department store. The perfume she made for me just genuinely makes me feel better whenever I wear it. Is that weird?”
“Not at all.” She was right, though I couldn’t tell her why. Mom had told me a little while back that the blend she’d created for Sofia had a mixture of fearlessness and self-confidence. That and a dash of clear thinking, and the concoction pretty much described my friend. Not that it changed who Sofia was deep down. Mom’s perfumes just enhanced the true essence of a person. Sort of like makeup for the soul.
As we walked to the back of the store, I could see Mom was finishing up with a customer. I watched as she quickly picked bits and pieces from thirty to forty different bowls scattered across the white counter that stood in the middle of the room. The surface was lit from below and glowed brightly, giving the table an ethereal feel. My mom’s face scrunched up in concentration as she moved swiftly, her hands reaching in and out of bowls so fast that I could barely keep up with what she was grabbing. She began to slow down and then shifted her focus once more onto the customer standing quietly in front of her. The middle-aged woman stood there looking a bit nervous, like she wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to be doing.
First timer.
Mom raised an eyebrow before reaching out her hand one last time and coming back with the final ingredient. “A little cinnamon, for mystery,” she explained.
She mashed up the contents in the mortar with a pestle, like waiters did to guacamole in Mexican restaurants. Then she carefully placed some of the mixture into a little vial of liquid. Shaking it up like a snow globe, she closed her eyes and muttered a few words to herself. The customer probably didn’t think anything of it, but I knew better. She was infusing the perfume with a spell.
The customer’s face changed from nervous to giddy and she happily handed over a fistful of bills to Mom and then left clutching the tiny pink bag to her chest as if it were filled with gold. Little did she know that Mom’s products were as good as that.
My mom watched the woman leave and then finally turned her attention to us. “Hi, girls. How was practice?” Her voice sounded friendly, but I could tell she was keeping things light because Sofia was there with us.
“It was okay,” I said noncommittally, picking at a bowl of sage.
Mom blew right over my comment and continued as if things between us weren’t strained. “And what brings you here, Sofia? You couldn’t have finished your perfume already…”
“I’ve still got plenty left, Mrs. Bishop,” she answered politely. “I’m just here to help out.”
“Well, aren’t you the sweetest!” Mom exclaimed as she moved around the table to give her a hug. I looked away in case she was thinking of hugging me next. “I’m so happy Hadley has such great friends.”
I rolled my eyes and waited for her to let go of Sofia. When she finally did, I took a few steps away and started to shrug off my fitted black leather jacket. The sooner we got started, the sooner I could go home and take care of everything else that needed my attention. I had cookies to bake for a squad fund-raiser, math homework to do, and I still had to write my column for the school newspaper. This week’s subject was going to be about replacing the junk-food vending machines with the kind that offered healthy options like fruit and granola bars. You’d be amazed at how many overweight teens are walking around my school, candy bars and chips in hand. It’s just plain difficult to watch sometimes. Obviously not everyone has my willpower and of course I’m happy to do my part to end teen stress-eating.
“Where should we start?” I asked Mom.
“Um, well, all the herbs need to be separated and restocked along that wall,” she said, pointing to her left. “And then the spice jars should be filled to the top over there. When that’s all done, I’ve got some plants in the back that need to be watered and trimmed. You guys know where everything is, right?”
We nodded and got to work. Sofia had helped out at the store a few times before, so I didn’t need to give her much direction before she started restocking. Since I’d been around this stuff for as long as I could remember, I stuck with replenishing the herbs and plants. I took six jars to the back room, where all the supplies were, and began to fill them up. As I pulled bins off the shelves, I ran through the uses of each ingredient in my head before placing it away.
Horsetail fern. Helps give the wearer a more polished look. Perfect for interviews, first dates, or any appointment where you want to impress.
Arnica. Used to soothe both bruised egos and bruised bodies. I took baths with this after particularly hard nights at cheer practice.
Wormwood. This one’s great if you have a friend or frenemy who’s dragging you down. It removes internal parasites of all kinds; totally worth the side effect of indigestion.
“You’re out of sage!” I yelled, looking into an empty jar before plopping it back onto the table. When Mom didn’t respond, I started to walk from the back room into the main part of the store. “Do you want me to order more?”
“Yes. I can be there in an hour,” Mom said quietly into her cell phone just a few feet away from where I stood. “I can’t believe this is happening, Julia. Poor Peter. How’s he holding up? Uh-huh? That’s horrible. Okay, I just need to close up the shop and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Keep the coven together until I get there and try not to panic.”
I’d never heard my mom use the C-word in public before and looked around to see if Sofia was within listening distance. I spotted her working on the shelves at the opposite end of the room, satisfied that she hadn’t heard what my mom said. Turning back around, I leaned over the counter and stared at my mom as she finished her conversation and hung up the phone. Without explanation, she started to rush around the store absentmindedly, as if she didn’t know where she was going or what she was looking for. When she disappeared into the back, I followed her.
“What’s going on?” I asked. I was still annoyed with her, but at the moment my curiosity was stronger than my resentment. “Who was that?”
She looked up at me, startled, as if she’d forgotten I was still in the store. “What? Oh, honey, you’re still here,” she said, distracted.
“Yep. Still here,” I said, wanting to add, “thanks for noticing,” but thought better of it. Instead, I walked over to her and put my hands on her shoulders to stop her from moving around. “Mom. What’s going on?”
She looked me in the eyes, but I could tell that her mind was far away. “Something’s happened to the Glovers,” she said.
“Are they okay?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t look good, sweetie. Peter came home from school today and his parents weren’t there, and the place was a mess like there was a struggle. Nobody knows where they are or what happened.”
“Maybe they’re just out? I mean, it’s only been a few hours, right?” I suggested, though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. “Anyone try calling them on their cells?”
“Of course they called them,” Mom snapped at me. Realizing what she’d done, she softened her face and took a deep breath and tried again. “Had, they found blood, but no bodies. They didn’t just go out for coffee or something.”
Blood?
“Oh,” I said, feeling uneasy.
“I have to go and meet with the others. We’re having an emergency meeting to discuss our options. But first, I have to close down the store.”