magical cures 06.5 - a charming christmas Read Online Free Page B

everyone whose shop was decorated had gone to the council meeting because they knew to decorate. I was a little late to the game, but not out.
    “Here you go.” I put the bottle with the extra oomph on the counter next to Madame Torres.
    “Oh!” The woman grabbed Madame Torres and gave her a good shake. “I love snow globes. How much?”
    “She’s,” ahem . I cleared my throat, “It’s not for sale.” I took the crystal ball from her and held Madame Torres close to my chest, knowing I was going to get an earful from my familiar once the woman left.
    “Honey,” the woman grabbed Madame Torres by the bottom, “everything is for sale for the right price.” Her lips curled into a grin, her eyes narrowed.
    “Not this one.” I jerked away and put Madame Torres under the counter. I pushed the bottle toward the woman. For a minute I thought about making a new potion for her, one that would cause her great stress, but didn’t. “It will be twenty dollars. You need to rub this on your hands and feet in the morning and at night.”
    “You mean I don’t swallow it?” she asked, a little disappointed. She dug in her fancy purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill.
    “No.” I shook my head and took the money from her. “It will help. I promise. Good luck. Next.” I looked over the woman’s shoulder at the next lady in line.
    I had helped the woman all I was willing to help. Her pushiness made me a little uncomfortable.

 
     
    Chapter Three
     
    “June Heal!” The shop door flew open just as I was turning off the cauldron for the day. Constance Karima bolted in, there was a bite to the wind rushing around my ankles. Her beady eyes stared at me through her glasses. I could see my reflection. Her heavy black cape hit right above her full hips where her fisted hands were planted.
    She took one step in the shop and used the heel of her foot to slam the door behind her. The windows rattled.
    Rowl! Mr. Prince Charming batted the air and ran under one of the display tables, nearly taking the table cover with him.
    “This town has gone mad!  Mad I tell you!”
    I looked around her wondering where Patience was. One was never without the other. Not that I had ever seen anyway.
    “You have to give me some sort of cure for Patience. She has lost her mind with all these candy cane wishes and mortal children dreams.” Her fists pounded the air. Anger made her balled-up cheeks even more red than usual. Her pudgy body stomped in place. “Whoever said this was a good idea has lost it! Who was it?”
    I stood in place, watching as she took one, then two steps closer to me.
    “Well?” She came eyes to chest with me. Her eyes. My chest. Her chin jutted in the air, eyes lit with fire under her eyeglasses. Her hands planted firmly on her curvy hips.
    “Well what?” My voice quivered, almost afraid to ask.
    “Who agreed to all this?”
    “The Village Council.” I walked around her and flipped the sign to closed. The police station was lit up and I wanted to stop by there before I went home to check on Oscar. “There is nothing wrong with Patience,” I assured her. “She’s a little excited about the bazaar like the rest of us.”
    I rubbed my charm bracelet thinking of Oscar. I glanced over her shoulder, looking out the shop window and over to the police station.
    He hadn’t stopped by the shop today. Granted, there were so many new visitors in town for the bazaar, he was probably busy strolling the streets but he had never been too busy to stop by, even during our busiest season of the year.
    “No one in their right mind would wish all of this stress on anyone! No one!” she protested.
    For a minute I thought Patience was in the shop with us. She had a habit of walking around repeating Constance’s last words spoken, but Constance was just repeating herself.
    “Listen,” I grabbed one of the stress relief bottles off the display table and held it out to her. “Put a dash of this in your morning coffee. It will