5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

T he house next door was no longer for rent. Something about that had Olivia feeling very unsettled.

The day ahead had seemed so promising when she woke up only an hour ago. The sky was clear, the sun shining brightly through her bedroom window. The smell of her apple scented shampoo tickling her nose.

A perfect day.

Until she looked out into the yard of the house next door and noticed the ever-present For Rent sign was missing.

She had lived in this town for six years and that house had always been for rent. Now it looked almost like new. For years, the paint was chipping and the lawn was overrun with weeds and unwanted brush, that only ever got cut if she got fed up with the eyesore and trimmed them herself. Now things looked clean and crisp.

She could think of only one person who’d be renting a place right now. The guy moved fast, that was for sure. Only one week since he had shown up in town and suddenly the house next door was rented. This could not be a coincidence. She could not have him living next door to her.

It would make it easier to keep tabs on him, but she was also concerned that his presence would only make life harder for her. Her magic was tied to her emotions and Draven was already playing havoc with hers after one short encounter.

She had not had to be this careful with her magic since before she moved here and she did not want to start again now.

Plates and cutlery flew to the table with a wave of her pointer finger and a quickly muttered leviato . This was the way she preferred to wield her magic. No big spells or potions. Just her power flowing through her fingertips. No orders to fill or problems to solve. It was freeing.

But today, she needed a little extra help because her mind was preoccupied with other things. Obviously.

She was getting a new neighbor. She was getting Draven for a new neighbor. She was sure of it and that could only lead to trouble.

Her stomach knotted as she finished mixing the bowl of pancake batter and turned on the burner. She set the newly washed griddle over the flame.

Then she turned from the stove to the open window and with a flick of her wrist and a collapsa, snapped it shut. She wanted a little fresh air this morning, but now it was getting chilly. She loved fall, loved the cold, but she hated actually being cold—something her friends loved to tease her about.

Above her, the old wooden floors of her home creaked in a familiar way. The sound calmed her nerves, as it was a signal that Daniel was up and getting ready for school.

The return of the school year routine was a welcome change, at least now that things were starting to feel settled. The first week was always a bit tough with schedule changes, hours spent indoors, and homework. But Daniel always adjusted well.

It had been a great summer, filled with days at the beach with Daniel building sandcastles and growing their shell collection. There were barbecues with her friends where she left feeling full and drowsy, sun-tired in the best way—and quiet nights out on the front porch reading her favorite romance novels.

But it was time to get back to reality. That meant homework, after-school activities, and Olivia pretending that she understood fourth grade math.

Sometimes it could be a bit exhausting. As a single mom, she always had to take on double the amount of work to provide for Daniel. She had to be both the mom and the dad. Yet, there had never been a moment when she resented that. She would rather have to work twice as hard than to have Daniel’s father, Shawn, still in his life. Not when he couldn’t accept Daniel or her for who they were.

Before moving here, things had sometimes seemed hopeless, as she’d stay up all night with a fussy newborn only to have to work a ten-hour shift at a crappy diner one day and attend classes the next. Financial aid paid for school, but money was scarce. Jill and a very kind older neighbor had helped out when she needed it.

Now things were damn near perfect, with no shortage of love and support from everyone around her. She was proud of the life she had built here for herself and her son.

But lately, she’d started to wonder what it would be like to have a partner in all of this? Someone who not only loved her but her son too. Someone who could help her navigate the ever-lengthening list of trials and triumphs facing a young boy Daniel's age.

She thought she’d found that life partner in Shawn. But looking back now, she could see how wrong she’d been about that. They had met in detention during their senior year of high school, two lost kids looking for someone to love them. She with her abandonment issues and low self-confidence due to her disability and he with parents who’d always let him know how unwanted he was.

They found acceptance with each other, which was why, when he rejected her magic, it left such a mark on her heart.

At this point, finding someone she could truly love seemed like a fairytale. Experience had taught her that romantic love only led to heartache. No matter how much she thought they might be someone she could put her trust in, the fact that she was a witch who regularly practiced magic always held her back.

Because the one man she had shared her magic with had run for the hills and that was that. From then on, she had mostly steered clear of any kind of romantic attachment. She would not risk having her heart broken again.

“You okay, Mom?”

Hand flying to her chest, she jumped at Daniel’s sudden voice, nearly spilling the batter as she poured it onto the hot griddle.

She turned to find him grinning from ear to ear, looking mighty pleased with having caught her in the act.

She shook her head, heartbeat steadying as she flipped the pancakes over. Golden brown and perfect. Thank goodness. She nodded towards the table for him to take a seat.

“I’m good—just a little distracted. Pancakes should be done in a minute. What about you? Running late as usual? Pretty sure I woke you up an hour ago, slow poke,” she said, eyebrow raised.

Daniel chuckled.

She bit back a smile. It was always good to hear his laugh. It served as a reminder that he was happy and loved.

Those were things she had sworn to give her child when she had found out she was pregnant: love, stability, consistency, all things lacking in the life of a little girl whose birth parents didn’t want her. So, she did everything she could to show Daniel how loved and wanted he was, even without a father figure in his life. It was her and Daniel against the world.

Her son had absolutely saved her life. From the moment the doctor had placed him in her arms, she vowed to give him the very best life possible.

That was why Draven being here caused her so much stress. Yes, protecting the town was important. But Daniel’s safety came before anything or anyone else. Their life here was worth protecting, whatever it took.

“Can I pour the horchata?” he asked, already moving around to grab the pitcher from the fridge.

“Sure, you can, but be careful not to—”

“Spill. I know, Mom. I’m nine, not two.”

She shook her head again, one eye on her son's careful pouring of the drink for each of them. Then he added some cinnamon on top, their special trick.

They both dug into their pancakes quickly, Olivia having served them both a stack each. She smiled as he poured on more syrup with each bite. She had asked him once why he did that. He said each bite of pancake needed the same amount of syrup to make it taste good.

Daniel only had a few minutes before the bus would arrive. They went through this every morning. She woke him up with plenty of time to get ready and he took his sweet time about it until she was practically vibrating with anxiety.

She hated being late. Her son had no such problem.

“Do you need me to check over your homework before you go?”

“We checked it last night, remember?”

“I know, Daniel. But I also know you tend to lose things.”

He was a great kid, but he would lose his head if it wasn’t attached.

“I have it, mom, I promise. I put it away as soon as I was done this time.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m choosing to believe you, bud,” she said with a wink.

She had already double-checked his bag, but he did not need to know that.

The sound of the approaching school bus sent Daniel jumping off his chair to hug her tight. She immediately hugged him back, resting her cheek on the crown of his head.

“I love you, Mom.”

Daniel would only be a little boy for so long. An 'I love you' from her son was one of the sweetest things.

Soon enough, they would be knocking on the door of teenage angst and rebellion. But for now, Daniel was still her little helper and biggest cheerleader.

“I love you too, bud.”

“To the moon and back?”

“To the moon and back.”

His eyes lit up, his mouth curving up into a smile. He sprinted from the table with his plate and glass to put them in the sink. He grabbed his bag and headed to the door at full speed.

“See you later, Mom!”

“Are you sure you have everything?” she asked, trailing him to the front door.

“Yup!” he replied as he threw on his shoes as fast as he could before one last quick hug.

“You’ve got your lunch?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“What about your shoes for gym class? And your jacket?”

He rolled his eyes; he had learned that move from her. “I've got everything.” Then he was out the door shouting a “See you later, Mom!” over his shoulder.

She waved after him at the door as he got on the bus and her heart clenched at the excited sounds of his peers at Daniel's arrival. She stood, watching the bus until it turned the corner.

The house next door caught her eye again. It didn’t look like anyone was there. Now would be a good chance to look around, to see if she could figure out for sure if Draven was her new neighbor or not.

As she stepped forward to do some snooping, her phone alarm rang. Shit. She really had to get to work.

Unsurprisingly, finding a permanent place to live was the easiest part of this whole thing so far. Draven knew that people would be tight-lipped, but the folks in this town took that to a whole other level. He was hopeful that now that he had a permanent residence in town, people would stop seeing him as an outsider and maybe that would loosen their lips a bit. It wasn’t exactly easy to get information out of people who were inherently suspicious.

It was made all the more difficult by the fact that he couldn’t actually tell anyone why he was here. What was he supposed to say? Yes, excuse me, ma’am. Would you mind telling me, are you a witch? Do you have magic? Would you mind if I wrote an article about you? Not likely.

But things were looking up now. Only one week spent living out of a suitcase. Not bad at all.

The house he had rented was a classic Cape Cod. Everything was clean and fresh, with white paint gleaming from a newly applied coat and the yard appeared immaculate in every way. The shutters and front door had been painted a brilliant royal blue.

It reminded him so much of the cabin they visited each summer during his childhood. A little dusty and a little warn, but full of warmth. All that was missing was the ever-present smell of dirt in the air, as a result of his mother’s constant gardening.

He missed that.

He glanced toward the house next to his. While he would not call it messy, the inhabitants had adorned the home with a good number of unusual trinkets. A uniquely decorated wreath hung on the front door and tiny, colorful gnomes dotted the lawn. From the front of the house, he could make out a structure in the backyard that he assumed was an ornate kind of trellis covered in vines, and way in the back in an old oak tree was a treehouse.

On top of that, the whole property was surrounded by flowers. Lilacs, sunflowers, even a few roses were all thriving and growing at a rate he could not imagine. He could have sworn a number of those blossoms weren't in season. He had learned a lot watching his mother and helping her tend to her garden over the years. Yet here they were, all in the apparent peak of bloom.

Magic. This was the first real proof he had seen. Not that he could do much with it, though. Even if his editor was someone who knew what kinds of flowers grew during what seasons, this kind of thing could be explained away easily.

She didn’t exactly believe in his claims of magic. The fact that he was here at all with her blessing was a testament to his powers of persuasion.

No. He needed something bigger.

So far, he had gone out each day for the past week, visiting the local diner for dinner and stocking up on essentials at the grocery store while also trying to glean information from the locals.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t learned much. Yesterday he had even stopped into the local library to peruse the archives. He was hoping to find any information about his mother’s life here and maybe find out when she met his father since Draven knew he wasn’t from Addersfield.

But the only thing he had found was an article declaring his mother spelling bee champ in sixth grade. Not exactly riveting stuff, but it was nice to get a glimpse of her childhood.

He did, however, stumble upon the town charter. An interesting document that talked about when the town was founded and why. As a place where magical beings, in this case, witches, could live in safety and peace. That explained why his mother would have grown up here and also confirmed that there was a lot of history in this town. Which also meant that everyone in this town should know what happened to her.

But beyond that, there wasn’t much else. The constant sneezing from all the dust was hardly worth it.

In the end, he had checked out a book on the town history and settled on a bench in the park. A few random people stopped to chat. But it was all to ask him questions about himself. Where was he from? Did he like the town so far? Was he just visiting someone? Never once did he get to ask any questions that might lead to real answers for him. He tried, but his questions were always deflected. Another thing to add to his list of reasons to be suspicious.

He asked questions about the lack of Addersfield’s internet presence and why the town seemed to be against the idea of tourists. Asked why people kept saying things like, “Addersfield is special.” What was so special about it? But he could never get a straight answer.

But really, what did he expect? Unless he came right out and said, “Hey, does this town have magic?” He doubted anyone would be willing to tell him the truth. He was still very much a stranger here. While he could certainly eavesdrop, it wasn’t like people would be randomly talking about his mother and he would just happen to overhear it. Anyway, conversations tended to halt whenever he went to any place that was crowded, as if every single person in the place was discussing him.

He was 100 percent certain they were.

Hopefully, the novelty of being the new guy in town would wear off soon. Maybe then people would be more willing to answer his questions.

But no, he needed to ask someone about magic directly. Or as directly as he could without revealing too much of his own history. He needed to talk to someone who might actually be interested in engaging in a real conversation with him—one where he wasn’t the only one asking questions.

All he had so far for his story were the journal entries from his mother. He needed some concrete proof of magic. No one would believe him otherwise. He needed help and it came about in a very unexpected way.

When he had asked Parker earlier in the week if she knew of any places for rent, he had not expected to get so lucky.

The only place to rent in this town ended up being the house right next door to Olivia’s, and it was perfect. She had offered to help him with his book, hadn’t she? She didn’t need to know the truth of it, that he would be using whatever she told him to expose the town’s possession of magic.

His excitement about being her new neighbor had nothing to do with her wide brown eyes and soft smile. Or the way his chest tightened when she got that calculating look in her eye like she was trying to figure him out.

No, this was all business. He had no time for any sort of entanglements, romantic or otherwise. She was a source of information and nothing more. She looked soft and quiet, the kind of person who would want someone steady and romantic. That just wasn’t his style.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. His father left and his mother never got over it. At the time, being just ten years old, he had assumed his parents just did not get along. That maybe his dad would come back, a foolish notion he held onto for years.

But as he grew up, he realized they had been abandoned. He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen his father over the last twenty years. Eventually, he disappeared for good.

Now he knew there was much more to the story. His father wanted magic of his own. When he realized he would never have it, he left.

These thoughts swirled in his head as he settled into his new home. Unpacking was a quick process. His apartment back in New York had come fully furnished, so he was glad to see this house was the same. It reminded him of something out of a movie, as everything was covered over with big white sheets.

According to Parker, there hadn’t been a tenant in over six years. This town really did not get much foot traffic.

It was all a little bizarre. How did they keep the town such a secret? More magic, maybe? He could hardly come right out and ask someone.

The house was surprisingly clean. Not much dust or spider webs to clear out. Was that magic, or just a really dedicated landlord? Would he now, forever, be questioning whether or not things were the result of magic? The thought alone was exhausting. Even the yard was well kept, the grass mowed and the hedges clipped.

The house had three bedrooms, the biggest of which he claimed as his own. It was strange. Even now, as a full-grown adult who was living on his own for more than ten years, taking the biggest bedroom was weird. It should belong to his mother.

One of the smaller two bedrooms would be his office and the third he would keep empty. He had no use for it.

His thoughts drifted to Lucas. Was it too much to wish that one day his brother might use that extra room? Or an extra room in whatever place he ended up after all this was over?

His little brother had yet to respond to a single one of his texts. He had sent one every day this past week—a few containing more pictures of the ocean. But mostly messages about how much he missed him and how sorry he was for the way things had ended up between them.

He wanted to tell Lucas what he discovered about their mother. But it wasn’t something you did over the phone or through text. It was a conversation that demanded to be had in person. He owed Lucas that.

Draven could not blame him for not responding. Things had spiraled when their mother died—both of them finding it easier to simply bury their grief. In doing so, they shut themselves off from each other. Draven at least had found an outlet. He wasn’t sure who or what Lucas had anymore.

Along with the three bedrooms, the upstairs housed a full bathroom. The claw foot tub gave him the creeps. He had never been a fan. Maybe his new landlord would allow him to do some updates.

The kitchen was a dream. He wasn’t much of a cook, but this was a dream kitchen. Stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, a giant island in the middle of the room and a six-seat dining table. Not that he would ever need it. The living room had big bay windows and a wood-burning fireplace.

The furniture was older but well cared for, with not a single floral pattern in sight. An inspection of the outside revealed a fenced-in yard with a shed full of tools.

He hadn’t gardened in years. He used to help his mother maintain the garden in the backyard of their cabin. It had been a special thing they did together, but the older he got, the less he helped. At the time, it had seemed like no big deal. There was always later. But now, he regretted every missed moment.

Every spring, in preparation for using the cabin in the summer, they would tend to the roses together, one of her favorite flowers. They’d take a trip to the local nursery, spending hours picking out the best bushes, sometimes filling an entire cart. Then the two of them would spend the rest of the day on their knees in the dirt.

Mom would explain the whole process, even though he already knew it. But he would listen with rapt attention. Lucas would be playing in the sandbox across the yard, not the least bit interested. Once the roses were planted, they had milk and cookies on the porch. That part always got Lucas’ attention.

When those roses bloomed and they had settled into the cabin for the summer, he would go out and pick a few—putting them in a vase and leaving them on the kitchen table for his mother to find. She had always made a fuss, telling him how much she loved them and how pretty they were.

He missed her so much.

He glanced over at Olivia’s house again. So many roses.

He could go over and reintroduce himself. But it was late morning, so she would likely be at work. He was sure she would have noticed that someone had moved in here. Did she guess it was him? If their first interaction was any indication, she would not exactly be thrilled about his presence here.

Maybe he could pay a visit to his new favorite bakery and a certain brown-eyed baker.