Page 4 of Spell Ya Later

“I’ll be out in an hour.”

Chapter 2

A Proposition

I’m like a hummingbird as I flit around my room, trying to gather anything I could possibly need while also trying to pack light. I certainly didn’t expect to push my mother with an ultimatum, but kicking me out with no notice? Nice, Mom. Love you, too. I didn’t realize our relationship was this bad, but maybe I should have.

I pick up my sketchbook, taking just a beat to look it over. I couldn’t go anywhere without this, even if I’m going underneath a bridge. WhereamI going? A hotel? I don’t have a friend I can crash with.

The dark walls seem to remind me only of my mother’s dark, golden-eyed stare. The way she was both furious and broken. They close in on me as I fill my purple suitcase.

“Sweetheart, let me.”

I turn to Grandma, standing in my doorway. She places her hand on the leaves of an aloe plant sitting on my desk and snaps her fingers. My drawers fly open, the contents of my room reorganizing themselves and flying into my suitcase one by one.

“Oh,” a gasp wrenches itself from deep in my gut.

Magic.

I barely remember magic being used so freely.

I missed the smell of it. It’s the crisp scent in the air right before it rains. The slight tension, the sharp, refreshing moment before the downpour.

She crosses the room, narrowly missing a flying shirt, and sits on the creaky bed. “I have a proposition for you.”

I sit beside her, an older sketchbook landing in the suitcase with a thwap.

“I own the apartment above my shop. If you would like, I’d love for you to stay there.” She smooths her hand over the floral bedspread.

Huh.

I guess I shouldn’t be shocked she’s offering to help, but I didn’t think she’d offer to have me staythere. The magic shop. I’ve heard it referenced before, of course, but I don’t remember it. I assume Laura and I have been there before, but any time I try to picture it, my brain fogs over like early morning mist.

I know how much she loves antagonizing my mother, but this is more. This is different. Battle lines have been drawn and she’s taking in a traitor. “Thank you, Grandma. I’d love to. Are you sure my things will fit? How big will my room be?”

“Sweetheart, do you...Oh, how precious. I don’t live above the shop. I own the building and rent out the apartment upstairs. My previous tenant moved out a few weeks ago, so you’ll have more than enough space.”

My own space? I’ve never had more than just a bedroom to myself, and Laura has such a big personality, I always felt like anything I had was really hers.

“You’re going to love it,” she continues. “Although I’m not entirely selfless. I would appreciate your help in the shop, since I’ll be letting you stay in the apartment rent-free.”

“There’s the strings.” I smile. “I’d love to help in the shop.”

She nods, snapping her fingers once more. My suitcase disappears.

“You have to teach me how to do that!”

“That’s the entire point, dear. I’m going to teach you how to do that and so much more.”

More? My heart flutters at the thought. That’s all I want—more.

“I’ll meet you outside.” With that, she leaves me alone in my empty room. The room I grew up in. My sanctuary for the past twenty-five years.

I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t the smallest pang in my heart at the thought of leaving here. Despite everything, this is home. The place my father called home.

But it’s time.

I memorize each creak and groan of the staircase as I make my way down. The noise has returned to the house, if slightly muted. Anywhere else will always seem too quiet.