“It was the winter of my discontent, that’s all I know,” Marty grumbled.

  I ignored them both and continued reading from the website, “This other page gives another option which is basically the same as the first—grinding up the broken mirror, but this one says the spell must be performed during a full moon.”

  “The moon is full in two days,” Wanda said.

  “How do you even know that?” Marty asked her, shaking his head in awe.

  “I’m a witch,” she answered on a shrug. “We have to know these things.”

  “Yet, you know nothing of seemingly pretty run of the mill spells,” I grumbled.

  “Hey, all anti-hex spells aren’t the same,” Wanda defended herself. “You’ve got to tailor the spell to the situation and forgive me for not remembering the anti-hex spell relevant to broken mirrors!”

  I gave her a little amused smile, which seemed to calm her down just a tad.

  “Do you still have the broken glass?” Wanda asked me.

  I looked at her. “Yeah. All the pieces are sitting in my trash can.”

  “Then we wait to do the spell on the night of the full moon so we can rely on the power of the moon.”

  I slumped as I put down my phone. “That means I’ll have to wait two days—two more days of dangerously bad luck.”

  Wanda shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  “Easy for you to say when you don’t have baseballs coming to bean your lights out.”

  “Just… take it easy for a couple days,” Wanda said on a yawn. “Don’t make any big plans and maybe take some time off work. I wouldn’t leave your house if I were you.” Then she paused. “In the meantime, we can take care of that other mirror.”

  “The mirror with the ghost stuck inside it?” I asked, just to make sure we were talking about the same one. As soon as I’d seen Wanda, I’d not only updated her about my ongoing bad luck, but I’d also told her about Katie and the mirror.

  “Yeah, that one,” she answered. “At least that one’s easy to deal with.”

  “It is?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, we just anoint the mirror with Crossing Over Oil or the like, then cover it in graveyard dirt and break the glass. Then that’ll release Pollyanna into the ever after and we can put that mystery to bed.”

  “Break the mirror?” I repeated, surprised.

  Wanda frowned at me. “Yeah, how else do you think we’re going to remove the ghost?”

  “Well, I didn’t think it would require… destroying the mirror.” I swallowed hard. “What am I supposed to tell Katie happened to her mirror?”

  “You don’t,” Wanda answered on a shrug.

  “Um, she’s going to see that her mirror is busted, Wanda.”

  “Not if you replace the glass before she picks it up.”

  “Hmm,” I answered as I considered it and in considering it, decided against it because it wasn’t the honest way of handing the situation. The best thing to do was to call Katie and tell her we most likely would need to break the glass and would that be okay. Hopefully, she’d say yes. If not, it looked like she’d be stuck with a haunted mirror. “And you think breaking the mirror is the only way to release the spirit?”

  “I know it’s the only way.”

  “How do you know that?”

  She frowned at me. “Because, Poppy, back in the late 1800s with the rise of spiritualism when humans were going all gaga over trying to reach the other side, witches used to trap spirits in mirrors all the time just for a good laugh. Then, as you might well imagine, those same witches also had to know how to release the spirits.”

  I frowned at her. “That’s what you did for fun?”

  Wanda gave me an elevated brow expression. “Hey, we didn’t have cable back then, okay?”

  Marty swung his feet to the floor and scooted over next to me, putting his arms around my shoulders. “You’re tired, Pops. You should lie down and get some sleep. I’ll keep watch and make sure the curse… doesn’t do any further harm.”

  “And what do you think you’re going to be able to do about it?” Wanda asked on a laugh. “You’re a human.”

  Marty frowned at her. “And I’m also a null, so maybe I’ll somehow be able to cancel out the bad mojo.”

  “Ha,” Wanda said and shook her head.

  I looked at Marty. “You don’t have to stay with me.”

  “Well, I’m getting tired,” Wanda said. “So shall we reconvene tomorrow night and we can brew the Witchbane and take care of that mirror of yours?”

  I nodded as I looked up at Wanda and made a mental note to myself to call Katie first thing in the morning. Then something else occurred to me. “Would you mind if Finn spent the night for the next few nights—just until we do our ritual with the full moon? I just… don’t feel comfortable having him anywhere near me when this… curse is in effect.”

  “Sure,” Wanda said and nodded. “I can even take him to school in the morning on my way to drop off Astrid.”

  “Thank you,” I said on a sigh. I really didn’t like being away from my little guy but this situation absolutely called for it.

  “Isn’t Astrid like sixteen?” Marty asked. “Why isn’t she driving yet?”

  “She’s nearly seventeen,” Wanda answered. “This month—remember her surprise party I’m planning?”

  “I remember it, but that doesn’t answer my question,” Marty pointed out.

  “Well, nosy,” Wanda started, and made me laugh. “As a matter of fact, Lorcan and I are planning on giving her a car for her seventeenth birthday to encourage her to get her license.”

  Apparently satisfied with her response, Marty turned back to me. “I’ll stay here tonight,” he said as he patted my leg. “And I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “Ha!” Wanda said on a faux laugh. “You kids don’t have to pretend abstinence on my account.”

  “Pretend?” I asked, frowning at her.

  “Yeah, about the good old fluff and fold,” she answered on a wink.

  I looked at Marty. “What is she talking about?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Oh, you both are so completely boring,” Wanda muttered, shaking her head. Of course, I knew what she was hinting at, but I wasn’t about to introduce the topic of my sex life (especially because I currently had no sex life) with Wanda.

  “Boring or not,” Marty answered with a smile that he focused on me. “I’m happy to stay here and keep an eye on you, Pops.”

  “And on that saccharin and grotesque note, I’ll show myself out,” Wanda announced, spearing us both with a frown. I laughed as I stood up and walked her to the door. Marty said his goodbyes from the couch, no doubt figuring we might want some girl time.

  “Thanks for coming over and for helping me with Finn,” I said.

  She nodded. “Like I said, let’s plan on brewing the Witchbane Oil tomorrow night because it’ll be a waxing gibbous moon.”

  “Oh, how I love it when you talk monkey to me,” I answered.

  Chapter Five

  When I closed the door behind Wanda and walked back into the living room, Marty watched me like a hawk. I kicked off my shoes, my socks, and then sat down next to him.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  I looked at him and laughed. “Like a person cursed?”

  “Well, I think you should get some sleep.”

  He stood up and motioned for me to get up, extending out both his arms. I took them and then followed him into my room, where Marty dropped himself into the armchair beside my bed as I turned to face him.

  “You aren’t going to sit there all night, are you?”

  “Just long enough for you to fall asleep,” he answered. “I can’t imagine the curse can get you when you’re asleep.”

  “Why can’t you imagine that?”

  He shrugged. “Actually, I’m not really sure.”

  I didn’t respond, but grabbed my jammies from the bottom drawer and walked into the bathroom to put them on before brushing my teeth. All the while, I kept thinking about how odd it felt to have Marty in my room while I was getting undressed in the bathroom. I mean, if someone had asked us, I imagined we both would’ve said we were dating but, here I was getting undressed in privacy. Yet, at the thought of undressing in front of Marty—I just felt all kinds of strange and weird. Had it been Roy here when we were still an item, I would’ve undressed in front of him without a second thought. But, maybe that was just owing to the fact that I’d had sex with Roy, but not Marty? At the very thought of having sex with Marty, I started to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked as I walked back into my room, now dressed in my jammies. At his question, I immediately thought of a white lie so I wouldn’t hurt his feelings, but then a funny thing happened—I actually just decided to tell him the truth.

  “I was thinking about you and me having sex, and the thought made me laugh.”

  “Um,” he started, and then frowned at me as I stood at the head of the bed and reached down to pull back the blankets.

  “I’m not sure how to take that,” he continued as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “On the one hand, I’m happy, though surprised, to know you think about us having sex.” He took a breath as I laughed again. “But, on the other hand, I’m not sure you laughing at us having sex is a good thing.”

  “I think it’s a good thing.”

  He frowned at me even more. “Why’s that?”

  “Because it means I’m comfortable with you,” I shrugged. “I mean, I was comfortable enough with you to tell you I laughed at the thought of us having sex, so that’s got to mean something.”

  “Was it like you were laughing at me or laughing with me?”

  “Well, you weren’t laughing.”

  “So it was at me.”

  I bit my lower lip to keep from giggling at the highly concerned expression on his face. “Well, not really. It was more of a… nervous laugh—like nervous-giddy at the thought of the two of us since it’s not something… we’ve ever done before.”

  “Nervous-giddy as in good?”

  I shrugged. “I mean, I think so.”

  Slipping between the crisp, clean sheets, I looked up at Marty and noticed a tiny smile curving the corners of his mouth.

  A silence then fell over the room, and I could tell he was dissecting everything I’d just said. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to tell him what I had...

  “So how do we bridge this gap between us the way we are now and us having sex and you… laughing at me?” he asked, to which I instantly laughed and then felt my cheeks blush. What a weird conversation we were having, and it seemed to be getting even weirder by the second.

  “Um, I don’t really know.”

  He nodded and it got quiet again.

  “Do… things feel strange… between us?” he asked at last.

  “I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but… yes, things feel odd.”

  “Because we kissed?”

  “I guess so?”

  I nodded and then he nodded and then we both were looking at each other, nodding. “Well, what exactly… are we?” I asked finally, figuring the topic was on the table, so might as well dive into it. Who knew when the next catastrophe known as my terrible luck was going to show up, anyway?

  “What do you want us to be?”

  I had to ponder that question. “I’m not sure—I mean… I think we’ve sort of been orbiting each other romantically since we met.”

  “I’m not even sure what that means, but it sounds like it has to do with gravity.”

  “It means, silly, that we’ve always been attracted to each other.”

  “Ah, okay, yes, I’d agree with that.” He cleared his throat. “That is to say—I’ve always been attracted to you.”

  “I’ve been attracted to you too, McFly.”

  He gave me a big grin then. “I like it when you call me McFly… it’s more… personal somehow.”

  “Well, McFly, what would you like us to be?”

  “More than we are at this moment,” he answered without missing a beat. “It seems like we were headed on the right track after everything that happened with Roscoe and then our train derailed and we haven’t been able to get it back on the track.”

  “That’s a good way to put it.”

  He grew silent again as his focus narrowed on his fingers, which he steepled together in his lap. After another few seconds, he looked up at me again.

  “I want us to be more than friends, Poppy, I always have.” He was quiet for a moment. “But I also have to know that you want the same thing and sometimes… actually… most of the time, I’m not sure if that is something you want.”

  I was quiet again as I thought about what us becoming more than friends really meant. Furthermore, I really wasn’t sure what I wanted. Sometimes a relationship between the two of us made perfect and total sense and just felt right. And other times… it didn’t.

  I took a deep breath. “I just don’t ever want to ruin our friendship.”

  “Neither do I.” He paused. “Are you worried if we got into something romantic and it didn’t work out that it would ruin our friendship?”

  “Sure,” I answered. “How could I not be worried about that?”

  “It doesn’t seem to have ruined your friendship with Roy.”

  “Roy and I are different—we were never close friends like you and I are and with Roy… things actually are different. They aren’t as comfy or fun as they used to be. There’s always this undercurrent of something there… like an elephant in the room, and even though the elephant might be small, it’s still there.”

  “Well, how about we make a pact, right here and right now, that whatever happens between us, it won’t disrupt our friendship… ever. And we won’t let any elephants into the room, no matter their size?”

  He held out his hand and I shook it and we both laughed. And then the moment passed and we stopped laughing and then we both were left standing there, just looking at each other. He didn’t drop my hand.

  “I want you to know I’m in this for the long-haul. I don’t want another short-term relationship, Poppy, especially not with you.”

  “I don’t want that either.”

  “I’d like to get married someday.”

  At the thought of marriage, and marriage with Marty, I swallowed hard and suddenly wanted to pull my hand away, though I couldn’t say why. “How about,” I started and then cleared my throat. “How about we… maybe we just… take it day by day?”

  “I think that probably sounds like the best advice.”

  I pulled my hand from his and gave him a smile.

  “Now… you need to get some sleep, Pops.”

  He was right—I was exhausted. We both said our goodnights, and Marty leaned over to give me a kiss on the cheek. And I was fine with that because one on the lips just seemed… too personal for where we were at currently.

  Then he sat back down in his chair and whipped out his phone. He didn’t look up or say anything more. He just sat there. I didn’t feel very tired at first, but after a while, my eyelids started to droop.

  ***

  I could tell I was dreaming.

  I was sitting in my living room but the room looked different—it looked new—like it would have looked when the house was first built, over a hundred years ago. The furniture was different too—something that by today’s standards would have been considered grandma-esque.

  I was seated on the couch and dressed in one of Libby’s 1950s dresses, this one with big black and white polka dots with a black tutu slip beneath it. And even though I couldn’t see myself, I was fairly sure my hair was done up in ringlets.

  Sitting beside me was Piggy, Finn’s stuffed animal pig that Wanda had magicked to life. But, this version of Piggy was monstrous—maybe nine feet tall and four feet wide. When I turned to look at him, he turned to look at me.

  “I love Finn,” the pig said in his high-pitched voice that had frightened me on numerous occasions.

  “I love Finn, too,” I said and then faced forward again when a man entered the room. Piggy didn’t seem to notice him.

  “Finn is my very best friend,” the pig continued, still staring at me.

  But, I was busily staring at the man who had just walked into the room. I didn’t know him, but he still somehow seemed… similar.

  He was dressed in a black suit and his hair was the same matching shade of black, his eyes as blue as the sky.

  “You,” I said as I frowned at him, realization dawning within me. “I’ve seen you before.”

  “And I you,” he answered on a chuckle, in a deep voice, accented English.

  “Who are you?”

  “You will find out in time, Holly.”

  Holly… I couldn’t remember the last time someone had called me by my real name.

  “No one calls me that,” I said as he took a seat in a Bergere Chair that suddenly appeared across from me. It was as if he’d summoned it and it simply appeared out of the ether.

  The man nodded. “I know, Poppy.”

  As I tried to wrack my brain to find the memory of this man, I came up empty-handed, yet I was sure I’d seen him before. And the time I’d seen him had been an important one, a scary one. So why couldn’t I remember it?

  “Why have you come back?” I asked.

  “To tell you something important,” he replied as he stood up and began pacing the room. Gone was his easy manner and candor. Now he appeared concerned, agitated, frustrated even.

  “What is it?”

  He stopped pacing then and looked at me, seemingly right through me. Those blue eyes were haunting in their depth. “You’re in trouble, Poppy.”

  “I’m cursed,” I answered with a shrug, in a ‘duh’ sort of tone. “Of course I’m in trouble.”

  “It’s not just any curse,” the man answered.

  “What type of curse is it, then?”

  “One that requires more thought than you’re currently giving it.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”