Page 3 of Impractical Magic

And by the time Scarlett and Nate realized that the witches were probably right all along? It was far too late.

***

The Uber pulled up in front of a massive country inn with mansard roofs and wraparound porches and an unlikely number of turrets. There were elaborate gables and a giant bay window with images of the Salem witch trials in stained glass.

Marty just stared, his mouth half open. “What is this place?”

“My family business,” Scarlett said, letting herself out of the car. “Aka the wholesale mixed-nut factory.”

Marty got out to fetch Scarlett’s luggage. No sooner had he popped open the trunk than there was a great crash from the hotel’s highest turret. The crash was followed by a girlish shriek and the smashing of windows as a great plume of pumpkin-colored smoke shot out of the turret, circled the hotel, and lifted up into the sky. Day abruptly turned to night; there were lightning strikes and a clap of thunder, and a thousand gourds rained down. They tumbled onto the lawn and smashed across the sidewalk.

Then, the sun returned as quickly as it had gone. The birds went back to chirping, and Marty’s Kia was covered in gourd guts.

Up in the turret, a young woman with an unruly cloud of white-blonde hair leaned out the smashed window. “Is everybody okay down—OH MY GOD,” she squealed. “It’s Scarlett! Scarlett’s home! Scarlett! You’re home!”

“That I am.” The sight of her sister’s goofy grin pushed all of Scarlett’s dread to the side for a moment. She couldn’t help but smile, too. She shouted up at the turret, “How’s it going?”

“Terrible! There are no gourds in this dumb town.”

“I noticed! You’re working on a solution, I see.”

“Yeah, well.” Luna had a musical laugh. “Didn’t go as planned. Don’t move. I’ll be right down. Don’t you move!”

Marty gaped at Scarlett, then at his gourd-covered car, then at Scarlett again. “Family of mixed nuts, huh?”

“My baby sister Luna is the wasabi pea in that particular analogy.”

“Was that . . . uh . . . I mean, is she . . .”

“Was that magic? Is she a witch?” Scarlett allowed herself to enjoy Marty’s befuddlement. “Told you so.”

“And . . . are you?”

“A retired witch,” she admitted. “But now that I’m here, it’s strangely tempting to dive right back in. Hey, maybe I could de-gourd your car for you?”

“You know,” he said, slowly backing away, “I think I’m good. I’m overdue to visit the car wash.”

“Suit yourself, Marty.”

As the Uber hurried away, Scarlett gazed at her luggage, sitting in a puddle of exploded gourds. She glanced up at the porch, trying to force herself to approach.

Am I sure I want to do this?

Nope.

Is it too late to flee?

Luna’s cheerful face appeared at the hotel’s front door.

Yep.

Chapter 2: Anything You Can Do . . .

Luna galloped down the walkway. “Scaaaarlett!! You’re here!” Her flying hug nearly knocked Scarlett over. “I’m so happy. I’ve missed you!”

“Lulu! I missed you too! Okay, okay, let go . . . I can’t breathe!”

“No!” She squeezed even harder. “No, I want my ten years’ worth of hugs.”