Betwixt Page 9

  I laughed and batted a hand at the turkey. She giggled and set it aside. “All right, if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  Cassie took the rest of the set from the box, carefully setting each one on the counter before digging under the felt to reveal a collection of gourds and pumpkins. They were startlingly realistic looking considering they were made out of plastic. She picked up a small, glossy pumpkin. “What about these? I was kind of thinking you could use them as a centerpiece. I think there’s a cornucopia in here too.”

  “Wow. Are these hand-painted?” I gave her an approving nod and plucked up a shiny eggplant. “These are great! Are you sure I can borrow them?”

  Cassie nodded before gesturing around the empty coffee shop. “We have plenty of stuff here already.” She was right. Each table had a silk flower arrangement in festive autumn colors, and there was a trio of real pumpkins on the front counter beside a sign advertising the pumpkin-palooza of treats in the pastry case. “Not that there’s anyone to enjoy it,” she added with a sigh.

  The coffee shop had been dead most of the day. Beechwood Harbor’s tourist season had come and gone, and we’d settled back into our normal pace. We were usually busy, but it seemed the gloomy Sunday weather had people hibernating at home. We’d been alone most of the afternoon, with only a handful of customers to keep us occupied. Even then, they’d all left as soon as their orders were filled, darting back to the safety of their cars to race home.

  To pass the time, we’d started talking about our Thanksgiving plans, as it was rapidly approaching. When I’d mentioned that I was in charge of dinner at the manor, she’d insisted I take a look at the shop’s decoration stash to see if there was anything I’d like to borrow.

  I picked up the turkey that was holding a guitar and smiled, wondering if I could enchant the merry little band of fowl and set them loose around the house. Boots would love chasing them around. And, for bonus points, they would drive Lacey nuts. I set the turkey back on the counter and looked over at Cassie as she continued her excavation of the box, still searching for the cornucopia. “What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving?”

  She glanced up. “I’m not sure, really. I’ll probably cook for my dad and Kirra.”

  “What about Chief Lincoln?” I asked, stubbornly refusing to call him Jeffery. It was just too weird.

  Cassie paused her rummaging and twisted the end of her thick braid around her fingers. “I—uh—I’m not really sure.”

  I planted a hand on my hip. “You expect me to believe you don’t know what your boyfriend is doing for Thanksgiving? Cass, what’s going on?”

  She sighed and dropped the braid to her shoulder. “He hasn’t brought it up and I don’t want to be pushy or put expectations on things.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Expectations?”

  “Spending the holidays together seems like a big step and I’m not really sure we’re there yet. That’s all.”

  I nodded even though I wasn’t entirely sure I understood where she was coming from. Adam and I had only been dating for a few months but we were planning to spend the day together. Granted, we lived under the same roof, so it would actually be more awkward if we weren’t, but still. “Well I don’t think it would hurt to extend the invitation.”

  Cassie muttered her reply as she turned away from unpacking the decorations box and moved to the espresso machine. As I started repacking the box, I paused with the drummer turkey in hand and peeked at Cassie out of the corner of my eye. She had her back to me and a mischievous smile crossed my lips. With a wiggle of my fingers, the ceramic bird came to life and started drumming. Bang! Boom! Bop! I gasped at the sound of the drums—having not expected it to actually play—and hurried to stop the enchantment.

  “What the heck was that?” Cassie asked, whipping around.

  The turkey froze in place—although in a slightly different pose than before—right as Cassie scanned the counter.

  “Oh, I was just tapping my toe.” I made a show of stomping the low heel of my boots. It sounded nothing like the animated turkey. “I like this song,” I said, gesturing up at the speaker overhead where an indiscernible tune was piping out.

  Cassie frowned at my explanation, her eyebrows knit together, but she didn’t give the now-still turkey a second look before she went back to making her drink. I heaved a silent sigh of relief once she turned away. I smiled to myself at the musically-inclined turkey and slipped it into my purse.

  “Hey, Cass,” I said. She turned her head, still working at steaming a stainless-steel pitcher of milk. “What if I went all-out and we did Thanksgiving at the manor and invited everyone? You, Kirra, your dad, Nick, and Chief Lincoln. That would take the pressure off, and we could all have a fun day together.”

  “Really?” Cassie asked, already looking visibly relieved. “That wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

  “Not at all! I’m going to be cooking anyway. What’s a few more faces around the table?”

  “That would be great, Holly. I’m sure my dad and Kirra would love to come. I’ll ask Jeffery tonight when he picks me up.”

  As she finished making her drink, the bell on the front door tinkled, and Nick strolled through the doors. He paused over the welcome mat to wipe off his boots and shake the rain from his dark hair. “Is it always like this here?” he asked with a scowl.

  Cassie stifled a laugh and slid a lid over her cup. “Afraid so.”

  He muttered a curse under his breath and made his way to the counter. “How much longer?”

  “’Til late spring,” she answered. “I have something that might help though.”

  He dropped his eyes to the large cup in her hands. “Is it packed full of caffeine and chocolate?”

  She laughed. “This one’s mine, but I’m pretty sure Holly can hook you up. I was going to grab you a couple of those white macadamia-nut cookies you like. Penny just dropped some off this morning from the bakery. You’ll get first dibs!”

  “Better put them in a Ziploc bag,” Nick groused, shaking more moisture off his jacket as Cassie disappeared into the back room.

  I smiled and hurried to whip up Nick’s mocha. “Besides the monsoon, how’s it going?”

  He grunted and I rolled my eyes. Mr. Tough-Guy-PI could be a real wussy. The way he acted, you half expected him to be melting into a puddle every time it rained. The transplant from southern California to the Washington-coast wasn’t taking quite right.

  Cassie returned with a stack of three cookies and he perked up. Cassie shot me a knowing glance and we both suppressed smiles. “Did Holly tell you about our Thanksgiving dinner?”

  “She mentioned it.” Nick nodded, chewing a cookie. “You sure you want to add one more place at the table?”

  “Of course!” Cassie insisted.

  My stomach swooped. I was already overwhelmed with the idea of cooking an entire Thanksgiving meal for all of my friends and Cassie kept adding to the guest list every time I turned around.

  Nick looked at me, one brow lifted. “Holly? You sure?”

  I brightened. “Absolutely! What’s one more?”

  Later that evening, over a steaming pizza, I filled Adam in on the change of plans. Predictably, he was mostly concerned with one thing …

  “What kind of food are we having?”

  I dropped my eyes to Boots—who had abandoned his cat food and was eying the edge of the table, his pink nose twitching at the swirl of steam as Adam wolfed down his third slice—and sighed. “You two are impossible. Have I mentioned that lately?”

  Adam scoffed. “I’m just sayin’, the food is what really makes Thanksgiving. Sets it apart.”

  “Sets it apart? It’s the same thing every year. Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce—"

  “And pie!” he interjected with gusto. “Lots and lots of pie!”

  Boots swished his tail excitedly.

  “Cassie is bringing the pie,” I said.

  “Pie? Singular?”

  From th
e look on his face, you would have thought I just told a kid waiting for Santa that Christmas was cancelled this year.

  I rolled my eyes. “Pies. I meant pies.”

  He looked at me skeptically.

  “I’ll make sure she knows you plan on eating at least two single-handedly. Happy?”

  “Yes!” Satisfied, he reached for another slice of pizza. Boots continued to circle around the table like a hungry shark. I was halfway tempted to hum the Jaws theme.

  Adam wolfed down the slice and then pushed away his plate. “What are we going to do about the fanger?”

  “Lacey?” I glanced at the kitchen door as though she might pop through it at the mention of her name. “I hadn’t really thought about inviting her, but I guess I should.”

  Adam’s eyebrows shot up. “Invite her? Sure, cause that wouldn’t look odd at all. Her drinking that revolting fake blood and eying the dinner guests, probably wondering which one would make the sweetest dessert.”

  “Adam!”

  “Hey, I’m just saying.”

  I rubbed my temple with my forefingers. It was still a week away and I was already getting a headache. “All I need you to do is behave yourself and not rile her up.” A sigh slipped past my lips as I sagged back against my chair. “I knew I should have called Stacy.”

  “Who’s Stacy?”

  “My friend from the Seattle Haven. Anastasia Winters. She’s a witch and a professional party planner. Or—event coordinator—I think is the proper term. In any case, she would know exactly how many pies we need and probably have tips on how to keep vampire dinner guests occupied.”

  Boots jumped up on my lap and I scratched him behind the ears. “Maybe Boots can keep Lacey in line if we promise to save him a turkey leg.”

  “Nope, I got dibs on those,” Adam teased, reaching over to scratch Boots’ chin. “Sorry fluffbutt.”

  In the days leading up to Thanksgiving, I pep talked myself into a semi-confident state—I’d also told Cassie she was cut off from adding to the guest list. She was bringing the desserts and Evangeline was selecting the wine and other drinks. I was left with the majority of the meal, but I’d binge watched the Food Network for two days straight and had my recipes printed out and ready to go.

  Then I walked into the kitchen.

  Good feelings gone.

  The printouts I’d had Adam make me were lined up on the kitchen counter, each one detailing my exact steps, but I was rendered paralyzed.

  “It’s just like potion work, Holly,” I told myself. “You read the recipe, do what it says, and voila!”

  Except, that wasn’t how potions worked. At least, not for me. Not since my academy days, when I’d been required to use a recipe card. These days, it was an intuition, a sixth sense.

  Magic.

  Cooking, on the other hand … I wasn’t so sure.

  The manor was quiet at least. Small mercies. I rolled up the sleeves of my Magic Beans Coffee Shop sweatshirt and went to work.

  Half an hour into my preparation, Adam came waltzing into the kitchen wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a black t-shirt. “Morning, gorgeous,” he said, stopping to plant a kiss on my cheek before perusing the spread on the counter.

  “You’re up early,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder for a long moment.

  “I thought you might need a hand.”

  I smiled up at him. “That’s sweet.”

  “Where did this little guy come from?” Adam asked, plucking up the ceramic turkey from the corner of the counter.

  “Oh, I borrowed him from the shop. I thought he needed a good home.”

  Adam set the turkey down and rounded the counter. “What do we have for appetizers? If I’m going to help cook, I need fuel.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s not even nine o’clock in the morning. You don’t need appetizers, you need breakfast.”

  Boots had finished his own morning meal as I’d gathered ingredients and started weaving between my legs as I consulted a cookbook. I nudged him away with my foot. “Bootsie, the turkey is swill raw and you’ve already had your breakfast. Don’t start begging.”

  Adam snatched up the loaf of fresh bakery bread and then grabbed a couple of eggs from the fridge on his way to the stove. “Where’s Cassie? I figured she’d be here already.”

  “She’s not coming until a little later. For now, I’m flying solo.”

  Adam started making his breakfast and the sound of butter sizzling in a hot pan filled the kitchen. “Well let me know what you need. You want some eggs?”

  Boots rammed his head into my leg and yowled.

  “What I want is for the butterball to leave me alone so I don’t break an ankle.” Boots looked up at me and blinked, clearly not taking the hint. I scoffed and pushed him away again. “What do you want, cat?”

  He meowed.

  “Oh, good. That clears it right up.” I reached across the counter to grab the bag of potatoes and spotted the perfect distraction for the begging cat. “Hey Bootsie, you want a turkey?”

  His eyes went wide.

  I plucked up the ceramic turkey figurine and started for the door of the kitchen. Boots followed, staring intently as I waved my fingers around the drumming turkey. His whiskers twitched when I set the turkey down on the hardwood floor and quickly backpedaled when the figurine came to life. It raced off through the open door and Boots pounced. The turkey sprinted off, banging out a frantic rhythm on the drum set as its little animated legs pumped to keep it ahead of the barreling tabby.

  Adam laughed. “Nice one. That should keep him busy for a while.”

  Evangeline came into the kitchen a moment later and I burst out laughing at the confused look on her face. She pointed in the direction she’d just come. “Was there a miniature turkey running down the hall? It looked like it was playing the drums.”

  I snorted. “Just a little festive fun for Boots.”

  Evangeline looked like she was about to ask me for the details, but then blinked and gave a small shake of her head, dismissing the question. It was probably for the best. “How’s it going in here? You need a hand?”

  I nibbled on the corner of my lip as I considered the spread of ingredients on the counter. “To be honest, this is about as far as I’ve gotten.”

  Evangeline glanced up at the clock and cringed.

  “I know, I know.” I sighed. “Cassie’s coming soon. I hope, anyway.”

  “Do you know any cooking spells?” Evangeline asked, coming to the opposite side of the counter to consider the raw bird in the sink. “I know there are charms you can use to speed things along. From the looks of this thing, you might need one.”

  I shook my head. “What can I say? I failed Witchy Home Ec. No cooking or cleaning spells.”

  “Maybe Posy can help. She probably cooked dozens of turkeys in her day.”

  It was a good idea. “I haven’t seen her this morning.” I looked at Adam and he shook his head. “I’m sure she’ll turn up. In the meantime, I’m going to get these potatoes peeled. Cassie made me buy thirty pounds of them!”

  “Yikes,” she replied, reaching for a peeler.

  We were halfway through the mountain of potatoes when the door flew open and Lacey swept into the kitchen. I cringed, preparing for her to rail about the noise Boots and his turkey wind-up toy were likely making. As a vampire, she typically slept until two in the afternoon and cherished her morning slumber.

  And by cherished, I mean she was likely to rip the face off anyone who woke her.

  A half-formed apology started to sputter from my lips before I did a double take and realized she was fully dressed in a pair of soft charcoal-colored pants and an emerald green sweater. Her blonde hair was arranged in a low ponytail and she was even wearing makeup. Decidedly understated.

  “Morning, everyone,” she said, glancing at each of us.

  “Erm, morning, Lacey,” I said, shifting gears from my apology.

  “You’re up early? Or … going to bed late?” Evangeline ask
ed, clearly as caught off guard as I was.

  “I thought I’d stay awake today, for the dinner,” she said as she crossed the kitchen and went to the fridge. “Where is my blood?”

  “Oh!” I jolted. “It’s there in that box of wine. I did a little … camouflage. You know, in case one of our guests opened the fridge. We’re having humans for dinner.”

  Adam coughed loudly.

  I squeezed my eyes closed. “Not for dinner! I meant—”

  Lacey shot me a silencing look. “I know what you meant.” She yanked the box from the fridge and placed it on the counter while she retrieved her usual crystal goblet from the cabinet. “And what if one of your precious mortal friends decides they like the look of this wine? Although,” she sneered, turning up her nose at the bland label, “I doubt they would.”

  I sighed. “It’s enchanted so it won’t dispense anything except to you.”

  Evangeline lifted her brows. “Clever!”

  My smile returned. “Thanks.”

  Sure, I could make complicated charms on the fly, but became paralyzed when trying to organize and prep a meal for a dozen people.

  Go figure.

  Lacey scoffed and filled her goblet. “In the future, Holly, don’t tamper with my food supply or I’ll be forced to turn your cat into a substitute.”

  “Lacey,” Adam said, his voice a low, warning growl.

  She shrugged and gave a lazy swirl to the thick contents of her crystal goblet before bringing it to her lips and drinking deeply. The contents left her lips a shocking shade of red, even after she delicately licked away the residue.

  I drew a deep breath in through my nose, forcing myself to keep it together. “Well, you know you are more than welcome to stay for dinner.”

  Lacey shrugged as she leaned against the counter. “I don’t have any other plans.”

  I cocked my head slightly and considered her. If I didn’t know better, I would have said she was asking for an invitation. Something about her expression softened me and I offered her a smile. “We would love to have you.”

  Adam shot me a look but I ignored him.