Page 35 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Midlife

Ugh. Thank my lucky constellations Des took that moment to descend the stairs, his backpack slung across one shoulder, his mouth draped in a frown. “There he is!” I waved my arms excitedly while avoiding eye contact with Colin. “Hey, sweetie.” I pulled him to my side when he slipped beneath Colin’s raised arm. “You okay?”

He blinked at me. “I want to go home.”

I ruffled his mop of hair, thankful he didn’t swat me away. “We’re leaving, baby.” I took his hand in mine and turned my back on Colin, not bothering to say goodbye.

The prick. Of all the nerve. Cheats on me with a third-rate witch fifteen years his junior, and then has the nerve to ask about my dating life, to imply he regretted losing me. To whatend? Did he expect me to take him back after twenty years of neglect, infidelity, and lackluster sex?

As if.

Especially not when I had a much better prospect than him—all I had to do was free him from prison.

I escorted Des to my new ride. Yeah, I was still driving Ric’s truck. It’s not like he was using it, and he had satellite radio. Plus, maybe I wanted to show up at my ex-husband’s house in another man’s truck. I had no idea Colin would be so clingy, though, or I would’ve taken my own car.

Des let out a low whistle and hopped inside as if he’d been riding in the truck his whole life. I turned on the truck with the remote, and Des started pressing the dash screen. He was probably finding his music station, Goddess help us.

At least the truck no longer smelled of formaldehyde. I had conjured the same buttery cinnamon and sugar scent spell I used outside my bakery to lure in customers. Forbidden magic? Maybe, but it certainly worked.

I had just hopped inside and put on my seatbelt when Colin rapped on the window. I refrained from rolling my eyes while cracking open the window, just enough for his antiseptic breath to fog my personal space.

“Nice truck,” he said.

I impatiently tapped the steering wheel. “Thanks.”

“Whose is it?”

I cut him a hard glare. “None of your business.”

He leaned against the door, his lip hanging low. “When will I see you again?”

That’s all he wanted? Not to say goodbye to his son. How had I stayed married to him for so long? Oh, yeah, he had money, which I thought meant security. Stupid me.

“I’ll call you later next week, but you’re not getting Des until you and Felicity work things out.” The perfect excuse for me tokeep Des longer, should we need to remain in Italy. I blew out a breath, feeling sorry for my air particles that had to mingle with his. “I don’t want any fighting when Des is here.”

“I made a big mistake, Luce.” He pressed his fingers against the window like a kid looking into a candy store case. “A big mistake.”

Just great. Now his sausage fingerprints were all over the truck. “Yeah, you did.” I put the truck in reverse and looked over my shoulder while keeping my tone neutral. “You and Felicity should seek counseling.”

“I don’t think counseling will fix it.”

Ugh. I resisted the urge to run him over while slowly backing out. “Bye, Colin,” I said as I rolled up the window.

Colin stared after us, that annoying pouty look on his face as if he’d been forced to eat a troll shit sandwich.

Des heaved a sigh as we pulled into the road.

I parked beside the sidewalk and looked over at my son. “Are you okay?”

He fidgeted with his bubble stress ball, then looked at something out the front window. “I don’t like her.”

I followed his line of sight and was shocked to see Felicity staring at us from an upstairs window. A chill swept up my spine at the hardened look in her eyes. Gone was the ditzy blonde with the inflatable chest. In her place was a virulent witch who was probably hexing me with a flaming case of siren syphilis.

“Neither do I,” I mumbled. “Neither do I.”

AFTER ETHYL MADE USa pizza and I secured three plane tickets (thank the Goddess our passports were still good) we locked up the bakery with an ‘opening soon’ sign posted on the window. Hopefully, I’d still have customers when we returned.

Most witches preferred the human mode of travel by plane. Flying across the ocean by broomstick wasn’t advisable, and not just because it was cold enough to freeze our tits off. Keeping up an invisibility spell for that long was exhausting. I could probably make the journey by myself, but I wouldn’t subject Ethyl and Des to such a grueling trip.

So we settled for second class from New Mexico to New York, and New York to Germany, and finally Germany to Italy. Goddess grant me the patience to fly in a sardine can with a bunch of humans, two fidgety witches, and a stowaway, pooping pygmy dragon.

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