Page 2 of Resurrecting the Witch
“Shut up about it, will you?” I elbowed her and shooed her away from the table we had stopped at. I was nervous enough without the idea of everyone in town knowing my business.
Not that it would have helped anyway.
We might have had a couple thousand residents at this point, but if Haven Pass knew how to do anything correctly, it was how to gossip.
And how to get facts wrong. A small town ancient past time.
“Fuck me,” I muttered to myself and took a seat in the plush leather seats.
They were comfortable, and I was glad they didn’t have any armrests that would dig into my hips all night. My hips were wide and my ass was fat, just like all the women in my family. It was also one of my favorite things about my body, even if the arms on chairs did not get the memo. I was grateful to have some breathing room.
Inhale slowly.I told myself again, hearing Guillermo’s voice in my head guiding me through the exercise and took a deep breath in through my nose.
And again but hold the breath in your lungs for three seconds this time.I did.
And again.I took another inhale through my nose, held it for three seconds, then exhaled through my mouth; Guillermo and Lennox would be proud.
I continued counting every second of each inhale and exhale until I settled back into my body. I cursed my anxiety, not only because it was embarrassing to have to do breathing exercises every time I left the house, but my nerves were so shot I couldn’t even enjoy the absolutely divine smell of fresh garlic, onion, mushroom, tomato, and spices coming from the kitchen. Instead of being present in the moment, the anxiety spiral made my magick feel a little unruly. A sharp need pulsed in my soul at the decadence waiting for me beyond the swinging kitchen doors; a desire to bathe in the soil that produced the herbs or worship the love that went into planting and growing the produce. My own magick sang to me through the air because these weremyherbs seasoning the sauces and the breads and the butter… ingredients harvested with Ó Cuinn magick were in everything. Even the vines decorating the corners of the draping fabric covering the walls came from my magick.
I had been exceedingly happy when Drew applied forLa Cucina di Adelaide’spermits. Not only because I had known him for so long and was proud to see his dream realized, in addition to the fact I knew Mamma Adelaide would have been so proud of him. But a more selfish part of me, one I didn’t let anyone else see because it wasn’t anyone’s responsibility to bear but my own, relished the thought of having a new merchant who would need a regular supply of things that grew in dirt. Using my magick was the only way I got a small amount of peace anymore, and I knew a new restaurant would be great to add to the Ó Cuinn Organic Herb & Produce’s book of business.
Guilt churned as I remembered I hadn’t told Drew I was coming here tonight because I hadn’t wanted to make a fuss. That was officially out the window since Gioia was working as the hostess. I’d known Mamma Adelaide and Papá Otto (the only people without Ó Cuinn blood who forced me to call them Mamma and Papá) since I was a little girl running through the Haven Pass streets. This restaurant was more than just a new restaurant in town or a new place to force my herbs on someone; it was a love letter from the seven youngsters in the Hemlock pack to their mamma and papá who left them too soon. And me, the selfish jerk, had been too anxious for my date with Patrick (who no one could even physically describe to the true crime reporter who would show up here in ten years to tell my story, so my disappearance wasn’t forgotten) because I’d agreed to a date with a stranger I matched with on an app that didn’t even allow pictures.
And thoughts like that were why I hadn’t told Drew I was coming to his restaurant.
I was too fucking nervous.
I took out my phone to text Lennox without a second thought and found she already messaged me.
Lennox: Don’t you fucking dare leave that restaurant, Cliona Erin. I am watching the exit like a stalker *side eye emoji* and if I see you leave before the agreed upon hour you promised Guillermo. I will kill myself and then come back to haunt your ass until you want to kill yourself and then you will leave Schmidt an orphan and he will die of exposure and then you will have murdered your cat. Is that what you want, bitch?
I laughed out loud hard in the way only Lennox could make me. Her crass language and blunt words sparked my own zest for life to return after the dark times of five years ago we don’t talk about. Lennox was a snarky breath of don’t-give-a-fuck air, and I adored her for it.
Me: You’re crazy, you know that, right?
The dots of her responding appeared immediately and that little reassurance she was there for me even if she couldn’t physically come to the date because apparently that wasunhealthy, or whatever, brought me the solace I didn’t know I needed.
Lennox: I am. Make sure Patrick knows you have a psycho bitch of a best friend so he won’t try any fuck shit on your first date. I’ll let him know too when I meet him, babe. Now put the phone away and get back to it. *kissy face emoji* *knife emoji* *ghost emoji* *knife emoji* *black cat emoji* *skull and cross bone emoji* *sunglasses emoji* *fire emoji* *heart emoji*
I sent her back an appropriate *middle finger emoji* and put my phone away.
Lennox was right. I was freaking out for nothing.
“Would you like to try our house red tonight?” I jumped, not hearing the man approach from the side of the table. My eyes were plastered to the front entrance, waiting patiently, or not patiently at all, for my mystery date to show up.
“No thank you, just water until my date arrives,” I answered and felt immediately foolish.
What if Patrick didn’t show up? What if he saw me through the window and left because he could tell I was sweating unnatural amounts through my baggy black sweater even with the anti-perspiration spell I used before I left the house? I didn’t need word to spread any more than it already had.
Unfortunately for me, and probably Patrick, this wasn’t just any first date, this was my first date in almost five years, and the only reason I was able to sit here is because Guillermo said it would help me not be such a pain in my own ass all the time. I couldn’t remember any of the benefits he’d claimed when he talked me into filling out my profile and answering the incredibly detailed personality questionnaire, one that he also insisted I completed when I was out with him and Lennox to “keep me honest.” The bastard.
Guillermo was also one of the few magick empaths I allowed in Haven Pass and the whole island in general. He helped me to run the whole of my family’s work: the Haven for Otherworldly, Magickal, and Exhausted Souls (HOMES). I wasn’t a magick empath, just had a shit ton of magick from my family’s coven, so it was good to have him around. Therefore, the asshole he was, knew I was lying and that I had no intention of filling out the details of an online dating service on my own time. I had trusted him the last five years since he came to Haven Pass to bring us back from the brink of ruin, and I would continue to trust him in this. Even if sitting at this table waiting for some Patrick to show up and not be a complete waste of time was currently driving me to eviscerate my cuticles.
Before I met Guillermo, I wouldn’t have been able to get dressed, put on makeup, or even entertain the idea of leaving my house for an entire meal, so the fact I was here spoke volumes to how much work we’d done together. Between his persistence and unwavering faith in me and Lennox’s stubborn take-no-shit attitude that demanded I show up for her and for myself when I’d rather have holed up in my house with Schmidt and watch reruns of my comfort shows… I couldn’t have said no to this. I also knew dating was the next step to fully moving on from my fuckwad ex-fiancé Hunter that took everything from me and my dead family that aren’t here to share the burden anymore. And the bullshit of the past that refused to release me from the suffocating vines it had wrapped around my heart—
“First date?” the same voice asked.
Realizing I’d drifted back into the unending inner monologue of worry cycling through my brain, I finally looked up and couldn’t help my own lips turn up at the second youngest Hemlock, Merrick. He had been a little charmer since he was in diapers, making everyone in town fall in love with him.
