The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic

But in the morning, when the magic had worn off, he left. Breaking every promise in his wake.

For years Sadie had blamed herself for tricking him into the truth. But despite the guilt, her anger grew like chickweed. He was a coward. Knowing the truth and not accepting it. Denying it and lying to himself, but worst of all, denying Sadie the love she had been willing to sacrifice her magic for. Sadie held onto the past like a drunkard clutching his whisky. Vices like that were a comfort blanket when you feared the future. If she could hang onto her bitterness toward the past, in a way it protected her heart for the future. At least, that’s what she told herself.

The garden started to rustle again, swaying restlessly, trying to get her attention.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she muttered, finishing her wine and grabbing the clippers. But as she made her way past the climbing sweet peas and saw the patch of garden dedicated to herbs, her stomach churned.

“No,” she whispered. Her fingers trembled and her throat clogged as she fell to her knees. More than half of the small space had been burned. She could coax it back to life, but the fear of who would do this—and, more importantly, why—had her shaking.

Did anyone truly hate the Revelares enough to risk breaking and entering? To destroy something so beautiful? Her chest ached from the sight of so much destruction. The heartbreak of wasted beauty.

She turned around to tell Gigi and stopped. She couldn’t worry her grandmother with this. She’d have to figure it out by herself.

Her throat tight, she mechanically dragged a rake over the burned patch as she talked herself down. But it was getting hard to breathe. Swallowing was becoming more difficult as the urge to cry almost overpowered her.

She threw the rake down and, instead, cut the healing herbs that hadn’t been burnt. Bay leaves and fennel. She even dug up a garlic bulb and picked some blackberry thorns from the bush at the edge of the garden that always threatened to overtake everything.

She crushed the thorns with an amber stone and then laid them, along with a stick of selenite and the herbs, in a copper bowl and filled it with water. They would need to charge under the moon for six days before she could use them.

The garden started to rustle again, swaying restlessly, trying to get her attention.

“What?” she demanded, picking up a pebble and throwing it toward the tomato vines. The tomatoes trembled violently and then stopped abruptly just as Sadie heard a man’s voice yelling in the distance. She stilled, strained her ears, and leaned forward, trying to make out what it was saying.

“Chief!” the man yelled. “Come here, boy! Come home!”

And through the screen door, Sadie heard Bambi’s mild whine in answer.

She knew that voice. Damn it. Of course, Bambi would be Jake’s dog.

A movement near the tree line caught her eye.

There was nothing there, but a sense of something, a presence, unsettled her. The air seemed to ripple, and the smell of burned herbs grew so pungent her eyes watered. The tomato vines trembled violently beside her.

The back of her neck tingled.

That slow-moving shiver down her spine that made her think of spidery fingers inching over her shoulder or the weathered shadow of a face you always fear seeing in the corner of the mirror.

And that’s when she heard it.

A low, haunting sound that slithered under her skin and wrapped around her bones. There were no words, just an eerie, sinister snarl. No words. But Sadie knew a threat when she heard one.

She wanted to run into the house, scattering salt behind her.

Instead, she forced herself to walk at a leisurely pace, her heart pounding with certain dread the whole time.





Mint Julep Ice Cream

Use this to clear out the past and start over by painting all past painful memories in a happier light. Don’t eat too much, or you’ll be forgetting other things too, until you’re a doddery old fool like me, who can’t remember what day of the week it is. Getting old really is a son of a bitch.

Ingredients

1 c. sugar

? c. water

? c. bourbon

1 tsp. vanilla

2 c. milk

2 c. heavy cream

6 large egg yolks

8–10 large sprigs fresh mint (plus extra for garnish)

Directions

1.?Bruise the leaves of the mint leaves to release oils and flavors. Combine the sugar, water, and the 8 mint sprigs in a small saucepan over medium heat, and bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Cook for 2 minutes. Remove from the heat, and let cool completely. Strain through a fine-mesh strainer, then add the bourbon.

2.?Combine the milk and cream in a large nonreactive saucepan, and bring to a gentle boil. In a small mixing bowl, whisk the egg yolks together. Whisk 1 cup of the hot cream mixture into the egg mixture. In a slow, steady stream, add the egg mixture to the hot cream mixture. Continue to cook for 4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the mixture thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon. Remove from heat and let cool completely.

3.?Whisk the bourbon mixture into the cream mixture. Cover with plastic wrap, pressing the wrap down against the surface of the mixture to keep a skin from forming, and chill in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours.

4.?Remove from the refrigerator, and pour the mixture into an ice-cream machine. Churn according to the manufacturer’s directions. For an extra kick, add a spoonful of bourbon over ice cream before serving.





??5??


“QUIT YOUR FIDGETING,” GIGI scowled, swatting at Sadie as they drove to church. Gigi was always crotchety on the way to church because, in her words, “If you’re gonna drag my ass to God’s house, He better know I’m not coming willingly.”

Her grandmother’s Baptist roots wouldn’t let her go too long without attending, despite her feelings on the matter. And today, Sadie needed backup. Everything was going, as Gigi always put it, to hell in a handbasket. The burned garden. That sound from the forest. Gigi. Bambi belonging to Jake. There were too many thoughts to fold in half. She’d need an origami master to make any kind of sense in her brain.

The second she pulled into the Poppy Meadows Community Church parking lot at the end of Main Street, thirty minutes early, she let out a shaky breath. The church wasn’t fancy, but it held fond memories of vacation bible school and potlucks, fundraisers and talent shows. The main building was bigger than normal for a church built back in the 1800s, and had been expanded on with a cluster of buildings recessed from the street and connected by charming walkways lined with cheery flowers. There was a large kitchen, Sunday school rooms, and meeting rooms, with a swath of meticulously manicured grass in the middle. Wrought iron bistro tables and hanging bougainvillea made it feel more like a European bed-and-breakfast than a place of worship. But perhaps the beauty was its own kind of worship.

She had barely opened her car door when she saw Miss Janet speed-walking over. Her floral dress stretched across her chest and swayed like a dance as she huffed to a stop.

“Sadie Revelare, you got those pies?” Miss Janet was in charge of the kitchen, which meant she handled the roster for who brought what refreshments for the coffee stand.

“Right here,” Sadie answered, reaching into the backseat and grabbing the three boxes.

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