Page 91 of Spells of Mist and Spirit
“No. I’m feeling called to try something totally new. I’m just not surewhat.” Scanning the shelves, I pick out a few options, slowly getting my mojo back.
Black tea for the base. Cinnamon. Cardamom—yes, extra cardamom. A bit of chili powder. A splash of carnelian essence. A hint of this, a dash of that, one more sprinkling of this, and…yes.
That’s it.
Grabbing the water from the stovetop, I pour a cup over the brew and let it steep. After just the right amount of time, I strain it and hand the mug to Jessa.
“Taste this,” I demand. “Honest opinion.”
“Wow. You’re giving me the first sip of the first new brew?”
“Of course! There’s no one I’d rather give the honor.”
Her eyes shine with love and happiness. “I missed you, ya know.”
“I missed you too.” I tug on a lock of her hair. “Now take a sip. I’m dying here.”
“Fine, fine.” She closes her eyes and brings the mug to her face, inhaling the scent before taking a single sip. Then another. Then one more.
“Well?” I press. “What do you think?”
“I think… I think… I think I need to sit down.” She presses a hand to her forehead. “Holy shit, girl. I’m having a hot flash. Or an orgasm. I can’t tell. All I know is this tea is making me rethink everything I thought I knew about sex.”
I crack up. Goddess, I reallydidmiss her. “Awesome. Guess I know what to call it, then. Spontaneous Orgasm it is.”
“So scandalous!” Her eyes light up. “I love it. But… what about the professors? The potions prof seems a little old to appreciate your raunchy sense of humor.”
“Professor Broome? Are youkiddingme? Thanks to her, my sex life is…” I bite my lip, cutting myself off. Now is not the time forthatconversation. “You know what? We have alotof catching up to do.”
“Um, apparently!” Flashing me one more wicked grin, Jessa takes a few more sips. Then, setting down her cup, she looks at me with soft eyes and says, “Will you call it Kettle Black, like before?”
Kettle Black…
The old name echoes through my memories, settling into my heart like a favorite song whose lyrics I’ll never forget, but whose meaning has changed so much over time, it no longer feels the same.
I’ve always loved making tea—I can’t imagine thisnotbeing a part of my life. But things are different now. I want to make tea, just like I did at Kettle Black, but I want to make magick too. To infuse everything I do with the gifts I was blessed with—no more holding back. No more running away. No more hiding.
I pour and steep the rest of the tea, then assemble the cups on a tray. When I get back to the dining area, happy murmurs and bouts of laughter float to my ears, and I’m struck by how blessed I am.
Of all the possible paths my life could have taken, the twisty, turny roads of fate brought me here.
Yes, so much has changed since my life in Tres Búhos. And so muchmorechange awaits on the horizon—an invitation to all the new adventures yet to come.
This time, I’m more than ready for them.
As I set the tray onto the counter and hand Isla the first cup, the name comes to me—simple and perfect, as the best things in life so often do.
“Welcome,” I say with a grin that warms me all the way to my toes, “to New Leaf Café.”
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