Doing time, p.16
Doing Time,
p.16
28. Hats Shouldn’t Wriggle
Who knew that being happy would be so difficult?
It hurt to put Will behind me yet again, even though he was never actually mine.
It hurt to know that I loved Max – so much.
It hurt to know that yes, in some deep down, intangible but undeniable way, I loved Will, too.
But despite all of my confusion, I wanted to be happy with Max. And I worked my darndest to make sure we stayed that way for as long as the universe would let us.
No more drama, just like Finn said. I avoided the Queen. Heck, I even avoided fortune cookies. I just got on with my life – going to classes, hanging out with Max, Dizzy, and Wolfie, and with Melissa and Gretel when they had time. I enjoyed Saturday nights at the Water Bowl, or Three Witches Brew, and had Sunday lunches at Wayfarers’ Rest.
Sure, I eavesdropped on Wayfarer-related conversations a lot of the time, and I sometimes checked up on Will, from a distance. But nobody’s perfect.
As winter rolled on, and the holidays came, I can honestly say that I was happier and more relaxed than I’d been in … well, probably ever.
It might have made me cry, just a little bit (okay, a lot), when a box of chocolate mice turned up on my doorstep on Solstice Eve, with a note which said, in paw prints: Love from Fred.
And yes, I caught Rover sniffing me a few times when we had Christmas lunch at the Water Bowl. But every time he tried to say something about what his nose was picking up, I held my hands over my ears and said, ‘La, la, la, I can’t hear you!’
Finn would have been proud.
He would have been prouder still on New Year’s Eve, when the Queen turned up at our party and cornered me in the living room. Just as she opened her mouth, about to voice her vague and mysterious mutterings, I blew a party whistle in her face and skedaddled.
All in all, I had an uneventful but amazing winter. Melissa did have an adventure over that period, thanks to a wedding she attended in Riddler’s Edge. But that’s another story.
≈
It was a crisp, late-February day in Luna Park, and Max and I were walking hand in hand, while Wolfie and Dizzy played their regular game of Fetch the Stick. The game, as always, grew a little too eager, and Dizzy flew so low over my head that he caught my orange hat with the tip of the stick, and flew off without noticing.
I called after him, but by then it was too late. When Dizzy flew back to me, he returned with neither stick nor hat.
‘Sorry, Wanda. I think I dropped it over … there?’ He gestured to nowhere in particular.
‘I’ll find it!’ Wolfie said, taking up the challenge with enthusiasm.
As the wolfhound thundered off, Max gave me a lovely smile. ‘I’m so happy we’ve had all this time together. I never wanted to say, but … I missed you sometimes, when you were working around the clock. I mean, I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I love that you love your job, but I’m happy that you decided to take a break. I think you really needed it.’
‘You don’t need to explain yourself,’ I said. ‘I missed you sometimes, too. But right now, I’m as happy as a vampire at a blood bank.’
‘Strange analogy.’ Max chuckled. ‘But it has made me realise that your lips look incredibly red and kissable right now.’
I stood on my tiptoes and looked into his big brown eyes. ‘Oh really?’
‘Oh really,’ he said, in a deep and gorgeous voice, leaning down to kiss me.
Just as Max’s lips met mine, Dizzy landed on my head.
‘Wanda!’ he squealed. ‘Stop smooching and look. Wolfie found your hat!’
Max and I drew apart, and watched as the wolfhound bounded towards us. At first his strides were quick and assured, but soon he began to falter. He stopped more than once, dropping the hat and picking it up again.
‘Is it just me, or does your hat look way bigger than usual?’ asked Max.
‘Maybe it’s just because it’s orange,’ said Dizzy. ‘It only looks big because it hurts your eyes.’
‘No.’ Max shook his head. ‘It’s definitely bigger. And wriggly. Hats shouldn’t wriggle.’
‘You’re right,’ I agreed. ‘Hats shouldn’t wriggle. Wolfie, what have you got there?’
The dog dropped my hat at our feet. ‘I think it’s your hat,’ he told me, proudly wagging his tail. ‘It’s bigger than I remember, but it smells like your hat. It’s squirmier than your hat, though. And heavier.’
I was about to pick it up and look inside, when a large white rabbit hopped out onto the grass.
With a twitching nose, floppy ears, and big pink eyes, it stared all around, then back at me, then all around again. It might have left some nervous droppings, too.
The rabbit was in a clear state of panic, so I stayed a short distance away and spoke gently. ‘It’s okay. Calm down. I can help you. I’m Wanda Wayfair. Is it me you’re looking for?’
The rabbit pulled at some grass and muttered, ‘Oh, she wants me to talk to her. Well, that’s just wonderful. Except for the fact that I’ve talked to thousands of people over the course of my life and no one’s ever understood me before!’
‘Hey.’ I bent down and looked him in the eye. ‘I understand you. Why wouldn’t I?’
The rabbit jumped back. ‘You … you can hear me?’
‘Of course I can hear you. Why were you in my hat? Were you looking for me?’
‘I …’ He glanced at my orange hat. ‘I was in my hat. To start with, anyway. I was getting some alone time in there, taking some time to try and figure it all out. And then all of a sudden, I smelled air, and grass, and it smelled … it smelled like hope.’
He nibbled at the grass again, and then said, ‘So I followed the smell. I went deeper and deeper into my hat and … well I don’t know how, but I came out here. Where is here, anyway?’
‘Luna Park,’ Max informed him.
‘Never heard of it.’
‘Have you heard of me, though?’ I asked. ‘The Wayfarer?’
‘The what now? Nope, never heard of that, either.’
‘Huh.’ I looked at Max. ‘Maybe he’s not looking for me. Finn’ll be happy that I get some more time off, I guess.’
Wolfie looked curiously at the rabbit. ‘What were you figuring out in your hat? When you were having your alone time?’
‘Ah. That.’ The rabbit hung his head. ‘I was trying to work through a mystery, but I wasn’t getting very far. I hoped and hoped that someone could help me.’ He gave me a plaintive gaze. ‘Maybe you can. I mean, you actually understand me, so that’s a start.’
‘Well, what do you need?’
‘My magician’s gone missing,’ he said, his big pink eyes filled with worry. ‘Could you … could you help me find him?’
I took a breath before I replied. Was I ready? Searching for a missing magician had to be far less angst-ridden than anything I’d faced so far. Right?
‘Yes,’ I told the rabbit. ‘I’ll help you.’
≈
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Wayfair Witches Book Thirteen, All Tricked Out, will be released in the spring of 2021.
A. A. Albright, Doing Time
