She turned to Derek and George, the library’s resident chess obsessives, then Tammi, the library’s resident snacker. ‘Derek and George, I promise no one will touch your board until tomorrow. And Tammi, do you need a napkin for those crumbs?’
‘No, boss,’ whispered Tammi, swiping the crumbs off the table and into her voluminous purse. Effie closed her eyes, counted to three, then opened them again. At least Tammi had resolved the situation, even if it had been in a particularly unappealing way. And on the plus side, Tammi carried a separate bag for books, so the crumbs weren’t going to ruin any library volumes.
Waving goodbye to the stragglers and making sure that old Thomas who slept in the parking lot was warm and had charged his phone, Effie closed up for the night.
Her giant tote bag of books swung as she tried to drag the massive front doors closed, failing the first time, as she always did. The carved stone gargoyles on either side of the door regarded her disdainfully, the same way Bonnie would whenever she went to haul a box of books from the Jeep.
‘A little bit of core strength goes a long way,’ she’d say, tapping her perfect midsection.
Well, so did a little bit of magic. Glancing around to makesure she couldn’t be seen, Effie clenched her fists. A thin stream of green flared from her wrists, pulling the doors closed and yanking the lock firmly into place.
Then, clomping down the lengthy stone front steps – the library was a charming Carnegie one, and predated accessibility laws – she ensured that the side entrance with the lift, a fundraising effort from the Friends of the Library group she’d chaired for several years, was properly closed.
The chairs were tidied, the lights off and the doors locked. There was no more procrastinating. It was time to go by Bonnie’s bar and put in an appearance at the welcome party for the town’s newest resident.
The night around the stone-walled library was cool and crisp, and Effie drank in the autumnal feeling of it all as she made her way along the winding path that led back to the quiet road.
All around, the trees wore shaggy coats of amber and red, and cheerful chrysanthemums formed bright potted pompoms along garden paths and outside quiet garages. Pigeons pecked merrily at scraps and seeds, and cats’ eyes flashed as the car lights and street lamps reached out to pet them.
Soon enough, the shops of the downtown square came into view: Pawsitively Purrfect Pet Grooming, the Tough as Nails salon, Cooking the Books (a cookbook shop), Plant Food (a vegan bakery), and down the alleyway, Uncle Oswald’s shop, Behind the Curtain. Which Bonnie, who admittedly had her witty moments, called the ‘Griftertorium’.
Effie approached The Silver Slipper apprehensively, already overwhelmed by the thudding bass and warblings of something that might have been karaoke or just someone loudly lamenting their partner’s texting etiquette. The flagstones outside smelt yeasty with spilled beer, and Effie didn’t want to know the provenance of that puddle of...ugh, carrots and corn.
Turning her head as she always did to avoid eye contactwith Pete the Plumber, who liked to sit in the patio area and show anyone who’d listen the latest and greatest moments from the parts catalogue he’d put together, Effie and her overstuffed book bag collided with a flower basket someone had left sitting on the wall.
Sunflowers, dianthus, lilies and fern fronds landed with a botanical thud, inviting some amused finger-pointing from a few kids Effie recognized as the local supermarket staff poring over dream journals around a mountain of half-empty beer glasses. Were they even old enough to drink, or had Effie just reached the point where anyone under the age of twenty-five looked like a baby?
‘Rats,’ Effie whispered, stooping to regard the damaged basket. Hiding her wrists behind her book bag, she coaxed forward a thin stream of green magic, enticing it to return the uprooted plants to their rightful places.
‘Not a plant lady, huh?’ came a voice with the sharp cadence of someone from the city. Effie glanced up to see a tall guy with tousled hair and piercing green eyes – eyes the same colour as her magic – taking her in. He visibly shivered. It must have been much warmer inside because he was wearing only a thin shirt and jeans. Well, and designer shoes, and a watch so clearly expensive it looked as if it had been made from the smelted contents of Fort Knox.
Drink in hand, he stepped out into the same part of the patio that Effie always made a beeline for when Bonnie demanded that she show her face in the name of sisterly solidarity – the bit where the music never quite reached, and the lighting was just right to pull out a paperback on the Balinese love seat if you needed to. Bonnie didn’t know this, but Effie had a perpetual charm running on this particular spot, just in case.
‘I brought that,’ admitted the guy, helping Effie pick it back up and place it on the patio ledge. It teetered, then found its footing. ‘A thanks-for-having-me gift.’
‘Ah. You must be Theo,’ said Effie. He did fit the bill: he looked exactly how she imagined a rich banking heir from the city would look. Right down to the perfect teeth and the starched collar of his shirt – a professional job, not the half-hearted effort with the iron and the quick charm that the Chalmers sisters made do with.
Theo picked up the drink he’d set down on the wall and took a sip. ‘Guilty.’
Effie plopped her bag at her feet and gestured around at the quirky, low-rise buildings with their thatched roofs and decorative tiles, some of which were presently being captured in night-time tourist selfies. ‘Welcome to Yellowbrick Grove. I hope the town isn’t too much of a disappointment after the city.’
‘No, no, it’s great. I love the skyline. Very restrained.’
‘We do have some great stargazing here. I love watching the Pleiades emerge in their cluster and jostle for attention. It hits close to home.’
Theo chuckled – he must have siblings of his own. ‘Ah. Personally, I’m a fan of Sirius. I have a soft spot for dogs.’
‘You should talk to Bowow Walker, head of our kennel association.’
‘Bowow, huh? Is she related to the rapper?’
‘Second cousin, twice removed,’ said Effie, deadpan. ‘Nice flowers, by the way. Did you get those from A Pocket Full of Posies?’
‘I did. I’m a bit disappointed they didn’t fit in my pocket, though. Misleading advertising,’ he replied, with a touch of sarcasm.
‘You just need bigger pockets.’ Effie showed off the voluminous pockets on her skirt.
‘You could smuggle a whole pie in those things.’
