Page 4 of Impractical Magic

“Sure, but not all at once.”

Luna pulled back and peered suspiciously into her sister’s eyes. “Why’d you stay away so long, anyway?”

“Me?! What about you? Why’d you stay away so long?”

“But . . . I haven’t.” Her baby sister made a face. “I mean . . . Yes, I travel all the time, and I’m not here very often. But I always come back for Christmas. You, on the other hand? Never.”

Scarlett felt like she’d been punched—all this time, she’d assumed Luna was her partner in the Avoiding Oak Haven Club. It was quite a shock to find she was the club’s sole member. “You come back?” she repeated numbly. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, how could you, since you’re never here? What’s the trouble, Scar?” Luna squinted at her sister in her mischievous way, leaving it unclear whether she was kidding or not. “Are you mad at us?”

Scarlett gasped. “Oh no! Lulu, no! I’ve missed you so much. Even Grumpus in there—” she gestured at the inn. “I’ve even missed her.”

“Then why don’t you ever visit? Why never call, or write, or anything?”

Scarlett gazed into her sister’s watery blue eyes and could feel her heart cracking. “I uh . . . It’s just . . .” She shook her head and chuckled awkwardly. “It’s been a long day. Can we do this later?”

“You got it!” Luna hoisted one of Scarlett’s bags over her shoulder. “Let’s go inside.”

Scarlett picked up her other bag and followed. “Hey, how’s everything in Ankara?”

“Ankara?” Luna looked confused. “Oh, Ankara! No, I don’t live there anymore—Ankara was four addresses ago. I left there for Yokohama, then Easter Island, then—no, wait, five addresses. Ankara, then Yokohama, then Penguin, then Easter Island, and I flew here from Bo-Kaap yesterday.”

Scarlett laughed. “I’m sorry, there’s a place called Penguin?”

“It’s in Tasmania, silly.” Luna walked backward toward the porch and said with a sigh, “Boy, do we have a lot to catch up on!”

The first thing guests usually noticed about the lobby was the scent—a dependable potpourri of baked apples, cinnamon, and freshly brewed coffee. As a child growing up at the hotel, Scarlett had long assumed that this was what all air was supposed to smell like. But today, the smell was gone.

Everything else about the lobby appeared precisely as it always had. To the left, a semi-circle of overstuffed armchairs around a stone hearth, antique rag rugs scattered across the dark hardwood floor, and the old grandfather clock ticking rhythmically in the corner. To the right was a grand piano that had occupied that spot long before Scarlett was born. At the back sat a check-in counter with a polished marble top. Behind it, a grand wooden staircase led up to the inn’s suites. A winding banister curved gracefully upwards—a banister that Scarlett and her sisters had slid down a thousand times.

“Wow.” Scarlett looked around. “Place hasn’t changed one bit.”

“Mama likes what she likes—you know how it is.”

“Smells wrong, though.”

Luna nodded. “That’s the first thing I noticed, too.”

“Hello, Scarlett.” Delilah, the eldest of the sisters, stood like a centurion behind the reception desk. “You look older.”

“It’s been ten years, and that’s your opening line?” Scarlett put down her bag and cautiously approached. “I am older, Del. So are you. You look good, though.”

“Honest labor suits me.”

“Oh boy, here we go.” Scarlett sighed. “Still behind that old desk, I see. I think you were standing there when I left, weren’t you?”

“Well, somebody has to.”

“Delilah,” Scarlett said, “you asked me to come, remember?”

“I had very little confidence you would appear. Luna, you must be so pleased—Scarlett’s here, so you’ve won your bet.”

Scarlett frowned. “Wait . . . somebody was betting against me showing up?”

“Well . . .” Luna shrugged, embarrassed. “I bet that you’d come, that should count for something, right?”

“Who was betting against me?! Was it you, Del?”