Page 107 of Impractical Magic

But today, something stopped him. Perhaps it was the anniversary. Or perhaps Nate was sick of letting that bridge loom over his life like some epic wooden monster. Whatever the reason, today he did something that had been unthinkable for the past 364 days.

Today he walked toward the bridge.

As he approached, a high-pitched trill pierced the air, the all-too-familiar sound of a starling’s call. Nate didn’t even register the noise. After all, he spent every day listening to the caged starlings that lived outside his cabin, and he spent every night listening to the missing starling in his dreams.

The trill sounded again, louder and more insistent, demanding his attention. A flicker of annoyance crossed Nate’s face. He glanced around, looking for the source of the noise. A glint of something metallic caught his eye.

Nate’s breath caught in his chest. There, nestled between two large rocks, sat a tiny golden cage. Inside was a vibrant starling—bedraggled and starved but alive.

“Scarlett . . . is that you?”

The bird tweeted impatiently.

He scrambled across the rocky bank, stumbling in his haste. Reaching into the water, he grasped the cage and lifted it out. The starling hopped up and down, chirping at her rescuer.

“How did you get here?” Nate murmured in wonder. He undid the latch to free the little bird, cradling her gently in his strong hands.

The starling let out a triumphant trill, her little body quivering with exhaustion and relief.

As if under a spell himself, Nate carried the bird back up the hill to the grove. There sat the far larger cage, where the twelve starlings had waited for so very long. He opened the cage, and the birds burst out. The thirteenth starling fluttered from Nate’s hand to join them in mid-air. The birds all took to the clouds, forming a mesmerizing star-shaped twister that spun faster and faster until thirteen had become one, and Scarlett’s body tumbled from the sky.

Nate raced to her side as she lay in the grass, dazed but unharmed.

“Hey.” She reached up and tugged his beard. “I thought you weren’t waiting for me.”

He chuckled, blinking back tears. “I was just about to give up, actually. I hate tardiness.”

“Sorry,” Scarlett grinned, “I got held up.”

Their lips met in a long-awaited kiss, the grove’s ancient trees the sole witnesses to their reunion.

As Nate and Scarlett’s kiss lingered, the world around them seemed to fade away. He cupped Scarlett’s face in his hands, as if to reassure himself that she was truly there, flesh and blood. Tears of happiness rose in his eyes, mirroring the glistening droplets streaking down Scarlett’s face.

She reached up and stroked his chin. “You grew a beard.”

“Yeah, kind of by accident. Do you like it?”

“Not at all.” She laughed and so did he, and they held each other tightly, afraid to let go—afraid the moment might shatter into a cruel dream.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the grove, Nate and Scarlett finally disentangled themselves from each other’s embrace. He took her hand and helped her to her feet.

“C’mon,” he said gently. “Your family’s been waiting for you. Actually, the whole town has been waiting. Oh—uh, although . . . maybe not San Francisco? San Francisco might not have waited for you. Your mother told me that your job sent your final paycheck to the inn. And I think you might’ve gotten evicted from your apartment.”

Scarlett just laughed. “Yeah, spending a year trapped in the form of a bird is not a great career builder in Silicon Valley. Makes no difference to me.” She threw her arms around him. “Everything I want is right here.”

Nate took her hand to lead her down the hill. “Let’s go see everyone.”

But Scarlett stopped him. “What are you, nuts?” She flicked her head in the direction of Nate’s quaint little cottage. “Is there a bed in there?”

“Well yeah, but . . . your mom, your sisters . . . ?”

“They waited this long; they can wait one more day. But we can’t. C’mon, Earl Thirteen, let’s do this.”

Nate’s laughter, deep and genuine, echoed through the grove. He scooped her into his arms and carried her across the threshold.

Chapter 41: A Deep-Fried Pirate Thanksgiving

It was Thanksgiving Day, and the usually tranquil Oak Haven town green was filled with the laughter and chatter of families gathered to celebrate the holiday. The aromas of hot apple cider and spiced pumpkin lattes mingled in the crisp autumn air. Long tables had been set up around the perimeter of the green, all draped in warm, autumnal colors. Pumpkins of various sizes and shapes adorned the tables, their carved faces grinning mischievously at passersby. Enchanted cornucopias overflowed with an abundance of fresh fruits, vegetables, and magical treats, their contents spilling onto the tables in a display of the very particular bounty of Oak Haven.