“The same substance composes us—
the tree overhead, the stone beneath us, the bird, the beast,
the star—we are all one, all moving to the same end.”
~P. L. Travers
The table creaked under the weight of the pasta bowl as Cecelia placed it in front of Reveena and Cordelia. She sat across from them, keeping a wary eye on the two smirking women.
“It smells delicious, Miss Reveena,” she said, inhaling the spicy smell of the saucy meatballs.
“Oh, it’s really nothing. I so enjoy cooking for family,” she replied.
“That was sweet. Can we eat now?” Cordelia piped up, already scooping out a sizable serving of spaghetti.
“Of course, ‘Delia. But don’t forget the antipasti,” Reveena motioned towards the cheese board, carefully placed on the outskirts of the table’s edge.
“Oh, I’ve already given Nigel some of those fancy crackers,” Cordelia informed her friend.
“The rosemary sea salt ones?” she asked.
“Sure. He likes a little elevation to his palate every so often.”
Cecelia swallowed a chuckle as the two ladies went back and forth over the benefits of sea salt for a land-locked turtle. She helped herself to the pasta and meatballs and poured herself a bowl of minestrone.
“Now, remember. This is just the primo,” Reveena reminded them.
“Seriously, I’ll already be full after the first!” Cecelia gushed.
“People say there is no such thing as a full belly at an Italian dinner,” Reveena said and twirled her spaghetti around her fork.
What followed was a feast for the belly, eyes, and nose—the sight and smell as impressive as the taste. The secondi brought roasted chicken, and the insalata dish was a lushly green endive and dandelion salad with just enough lemon juice and olive oil to balance out the leaves’ bitterness.
Just as Cecelia thought she would have to loosen a button or two, Reveena cleared enough space for the formaggie frutta tray. Colorful melons and grapes sat amongst the Parmigiano-Reggiano, and the provolone mingled with the sliced peaches and pineapple.
“Perfect pairings, I must say,” Cordelia complimented Reveena’s choices.
“Oh, Miss Reveena! I cannot eat another bite,” Cecelia said, patting her expanding midsection.
“Ah, but no one can say no to a bit of dolce and caffe, my dear. But in this case, it’ll be tea with dessert.”
Cecelia tried to decline politely, but her words fell on deaf ears. She soon sat in Reveena’s living room, her hostess and aunt sitting across from her once again. Someone conveniently placed the pound cake and tea set on the heavy wooden coffee table between them.
The conversation during dinner was mostly about the food and the children’s summer plans. Zelda and Maddie were already brainstorming ideas for new soaps and tea blends for the autumn; always a season ahead, the young entrepreneurs reminded Cecelia. Of course, Zelda could not wait to continue her fishing trips with Jack and Joe. She had researched which baits worked better in warmer water and eagerly waited to try her Texas-rigged worms, swim baits, and top-water frogs on the new spinning rod her father had given her. Kevin was more than happy to have an eager fishing partner in the house.
Meanwhile, Ernie had given notice he would hang out with the crew. Mike started advertising his grass-cutting services and asked Ernie to be his partner. Carter signed up for online summer classes, and Shelby’s family booked back-to-back family vacations, so Ernie agreed to help Mike on an as-needed basis. Shelby and Carter both promised to be around in between classes and excursions.
Of course, Cordelia was just as happy as Lilia to escape Wedding Central whenever possible. Hadley’s wedding plans were obviously in full planning mode, so the Nanny of the Bride was more than happy to spend time at Reveena’s cottage that summer. Just as long as she could bring Nigel, who, during dinner, lounged in front of the unlit kitchen fireplace with Meeka curled up against his cool shell.
Now the three ladies sat in comfortable armchairs, enjoying the calm quiet of the warm summer night and cups of tea. After a few minutes, Cecelia set her teacup on the table and looked over at her dinner companions.
“All right, ladies,” she started in her Momma/teacher tone, “the two of you are brewing up something, and God knows I probably don’t want to know what it is. However, it occurs to me someone has lured me over here and plied me with so much food that I am now anchored to this chair for some specific reason.”
She looked at each of them as she spoke, but they both avoided her direct eye contact. Reveena glanced out her front window, suddenly very interested in the rose vine climbing along the outside trellis, while Cordelia studied the detailed lilac pattern on her teacup. So, Cecelia continued.
“I may regret this later, but the cat rarely has either of your tongues. So, it must be a doozy for sure. Please, proceed.” She motioned that the floor was theirs and reclined in her chair, mindlessly twisting the blue moonstone ring on her finger, a motion that alluded to the slightest sign of apprehension.
“Well, dear,” Reveena started, “remember that lovely grand opening party you threw a few months ago?”
“Yes, I am well acquainted with that. Go on.”
“Well, yes. It was quite wonderful on so many levels. But for us,” Reveena said and gestured between herself and Cordelia, “one of the best parts was spending time with Flora. We realized that evening we had quite a lot in common.”
“Uh-huh,” Cecelia responded and cautiously glanced toward her aunt.
“Okay, here’s the deal. Since then, we’ve had time to get to know her… and… we think you would love to hear some of her stories.” Cordelia cut to the chase.
Cecelia had no idea where the ladies were taking the conversation, but they seemed intent on continuing it. She sat and thought before she spoke.
“About?”
Prepared for a much longer interrogation, Reveena hesitated just slightly before she answered.
“We have learned so much about her amazing family. Of course, they are all gone now,” Reveena sighed and looked down at her own wrinkled, aged hands. “Well, your wonderful party with all its warmth and welcome… it made her a little homesick, I believe.” She heard a sharp cough from beside her and added, “we believe,” and nodded her head for emphasis.
“Flora realized that as she sits above her store day after day, life is still continuing… without her.” Reveena shook her head heavily. “It really is a sad thing. Poor lady is just a little girl who misses her mother.”
“And her grandmother,” Cordelia added in an unusually soft tone.
Cecelia quietly processed this information, not sure what to think. The one thing she knew was that something was eating at these two usually direct and blunt women.
“Ladies, dinner was amazing, and I never tire of your antics,” she said with a pained grin, “but something is truly bothering you both as I’ve never seen before. So, please, just tell me.”
The two women hesitantly looked at each other, and Reveena slowly nodded her head. Cordelia inhaled, blew it out, and looked over the coffee table towards her niece.
“Flora’s a witch.”
“Excuse me, a what?”
“A witch, dear,” Reveena added.
“Wait—” Cecelia started.
“No need to wait. She’s a witch,” Reveena reiterated.
“I got that part. I think,” Cecelia replied. “But what does that have to do with me?”
The ladies looked at each other and then at their dinner guest.
“Well, you see….” Reveena shared the tale of an immigrant girl whose world revolved around her grandmother’s teachings and her parents’ love. A girl who grew up to love a boy who learned to understand and eventually appreciate her grandmother’s teachings. A girl who shared the loss of children with the boy. A girl who was now alone, with no one to pass along her grandmother’s teachings.
“Aaaannnndddd, that involves me how?” Cecelia posed the question to both women.
They looked at each other, seeming to argue mentally about who should speak next. Cecelia patiently sat in her chair, holding her teacup steady.
“Well, dear,” Reveena proceeded, “this is where you come into the story.”
“It is?” Cecelia cautiously asked.
“Of course, it is. I’ve known it from the moment I met you,” Reveena replied.
“You did?” Cecelia countered.
“Indeed. I could feel it in my old bones. You were destined to be exactly who you are,” Reveena declared with a confident nod.
Cecelia sat and pondered whether to set her cup down, retreat home, or hear them out. She glanced over at her aunt, who looked at her with a smile. Cecelia felt a flip in her stomach, like a flock of butterflies trying to escape. She gently placed the porcelain cup on the coffee table tray, ran her hair through her hair, and stood up from her chair.
“Ladies, this was an enjoyable evening. The food was amazing, and the conversation was interesting and insightful. But I must be getting home. Last day of school festivities and all of that, you know,” she stammered as she stumbled towards the kitchen. She soon heard shuffling sounds following her and peeked behind her shoulder to see Reveena and Cordelia nearby. She reached the back door and placed her hand on the handle, but she hesitated to leave. Her hostess and aunt remained quiet as they stood by the stone fireplace. She turned around to face them, leaving her hand on the doorknob.
“Thank you so much for this evening.”
The two ladies continued to stand by quietly.
“You both know that I certainly appreciate who each of you is. I’ve always appreciated what you believe in; I trust my own children to your care.” She turned that doorknob and said, “But this is no fairytale world. I am a mother and wife, once a teacher and now a business owner. I wish Mrs. Godfrey all the best in finding a suitable protégé, but I am not it.”
Reveena and Cordelia wisely remained still as Cecelia opened the door and walked onto the stoop, not even looking back as she closed the door behind her.
“Well, that went well,” Cordelia sighed and walked over to the table, prepared to clear the remnants of dinner. “This has really thrown her off. It’s unlike her not to stick around and help clean up.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. It’ll take care of itself in due time. Let’s sit on the front porch while we wait for Jack to come and collect you,” Reveena motioned towards the front of the house.
Cordelia put the empty dish back on the table and followed Reveena through the doorway, whistling a quick note as she walked. Nigel, who still dozed in front of the fireplace, opened his eyes and stretched his stiff appendages. Shaking off his furry feline friend, he stood up and ambled to the front porch.
The women soon settled into the comfy rocking chairs under the awning and discussed the second phase of their plan. Meeka still curled up on the braided rug, grumbled only for a moment as the sink’s faucet yawned widely and the handles lazily stretched to wake up from their nap. They turned in unison to fill the basin with hot water. The kitten continued to nap while the dishes took turns bathing in the sudsy water and laying themselves out to dry on the countertop. She merely flicked her tail when the broom pushed off from the wall, where it had been resting during dinner, and swept up the crumbs around the table. Her ears faintly twitched at Jack’s car horn beeping a faint farewell and the sound of the front door swinging shut.
Reveena walked back into the kitchen, happy to see the cleaned-up table, and went to a drawer to retrieve her address book. She pulled out a beat-up leather journal and carried it to the nearby landline telephone. Meeka opened her eyes to see Reveena punch in a series of numbers and wait for a response. The little lady hummed and pushed her cat-eye glasses onto her forehead as she listened to the rings and waited for someone to pick up on the other end of the line.
Smiling and bouncing from one foot to the other, she spoke to the sleepy cat, “Oh Meeka, my little one, we’re calling in the reinforcements.”
“So, how was your ladies’ night?” Kevin asked as his wife walked into their bedroom.
He had propped himself up in bed and read a fishing magazine, waiting for his wife to get home from her next-door dinner. She did not respond to his question; instead, she silently walked over to her closet and tossed her shoes inside, huffily closing the door and mumbling to herself. He watched her stomp over to her dresser, where she threw her earrings and necklace into the silver dish.
“That good, huh?” he asked, knowing she most likely did not hear his questions. “This is quite a unique look for you, frankly. Now, if I had come home from work huffing and puffing, tossing and throwing things, I would have considered that an average, normal day. But this? Highly unusual.”
Of course, none of Kevin’s monologue even penetrated Cecelia’s temporal lobe; she was embroiled in her internal conversation. As she tugged the moonstone ring off her finger, she stopped and stared at it. The light from the bedside lamp caught the milky-white waves shimmering in the deep blue mineral. She stood at her dresser and inspected the stone.
“Something wrong with your ring?” Kevin asked from the bed.
“Uh, no.” Cecelia shook the cobwebs from her mind. “I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“Why? Why did Reveena give me this exact ring at the specific time she did,” Cecelia answered and pulled off the ring, gently laying it on the small silver tray in front of her.
“Because she wanted to be nice? A thank you? Tell you she appreciates you?”
Cecelia turned to glare at him with a cross look.
“What? I don’t know why women buy each other jewelry!” He defended himself before opening the magazine he had put to the side.
“Because she wants me to join her club,” she sharply responded.
Cecelia caught her stern look in the dresser mirror. She immediately relaxed her muscles and took a deep, cleansing breath.
“I’m sorry, really, I am. It was just an,” she tried to find the word, “unexpected turn of conversation.”
“I will pretend that I know what you’re talking about if you turn back to the Ceccy who left here,” Kevin stated while hiding behind his reading material.
“Yes, dear,” she smirked and walked to the bathroom.
Bentley nudged the door open and pushed his nose into the room.
“Buddy, the coast is clear right now, but I’d find my way to your brother’s room if I were you,” Kevin directed in a hushed tone.
“Haha, I can hear you,” Cecelia called from the other room.
Kevin and Bentley both glanced towards the bathroom, and the dog wisely backed up, turned course in the hallway, and crept into Ernie’s room for the night.
Having changed into her nightgown, Cecelia padded over to the bed while rubbing lotion onto her face and elbows. She pulled the covers down and sat on the edge of the bed so she could apply the cream to her tired feet. With her back to Kevin, he figured she was not into any more discussions, so he laid the magazine on his bedside table, flicked off his lamp, and adjusted to lie on his side.
“They want me to be one of them now, you know,” she said so quietly that Kevin wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly.
“One of them?” he asked. “An old woman?”
“No!” she exclaimed in mock surprise at his attempt at humor. “They want to turn me into some kind of witch.”
“Hmmm,” Kevin responded, thinking it best to leave the answer be… for the moment.
She placed the lotion bottle on her nightstand and crawled under the covers.
“What, no smart comeback?” she prompted and turned off her lamp so that the only light in the room came from the hallway nightlight.
“A witch?”
“A witch.”
“I think those two ladies have been hanging around our children too much lately.”