Page 2 of With This Witch
She picks up the cups and shoots a spark at his feet. “Don’twitchlingme.” While she’s never liked the nickname often given to young witches, and despite her current frustration, the name coming from him isn’t horrible. It’s always stirred something inside her, but she’s not willing to go down that train of thought right now.
He laughs at her. Full-bodied and deep. The sound is like plucking the perfect chord on a bass and stirs something within her. As frustrated as she is with him at this moment, she acknowledges that she likes hearing him laugh.
“My apologies. I wasn’t aware holding doors open would be so troublesome,” he teases. “Would you like me to get that for you?” he asks, pointing to the coffee stain down her front. Before she can answer, shadows creep from beneath her and climb her legs, torso and chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they remove the stain before disappearing again. “Better?”
Looking down, she notes all evidence of the coffee incident is gone. “Yes, thank you.”
The gnome with the laptop must have noticed the incident. He strolls through the door, holding out two coffees. “Here, Petra. Looks like you could use some replacements.”
Accepting the drinks, her mood shifts from annoyance to gratitude. “You’re the best, Briryn, thanks. I hope you have a wonderful day.”
“No problem. And you as well,” Briryn replies before returning to his table.
“Sorry about… that, by the way. You caught me off guard,” she says to Lachlan.
“No worries. My apologies as well. I’ll make sure to be more careful next time,” he says, smiling. “Have a great day at work, witchling.”
Petra scoffs and is about to retort back, but he’s already inside the shop. Lucky demon.
* * *
“Hi, friends!” Petra calls out as she enters the classroom, bursting with preschooler energy and excitement for a day of play and learning ahead. Her group of little tykes come rushing over to her as she walks in and puts her bag and the drinks on the counter. The children begin speaking over each other to get her attention.
“Miss P, look! I found a purple rock.”
“Look, I have my nails painted! They sparkle!”
“My dad says I have a stinky butt!”
“My mom says Josh is adopted.”
“My sister picks her nose and eats it!”
Laughing at all the revelations happening simultaneously, Petra bends down and calls for a group hug before the children rush off again to return to what they were playing with. Working the closing shift means the children have already been awake for hours and have filled that time with more games, stories, and adventures than Petra could do in a month. No two days in childcare are the same, and Petra loves it; it’s exhausting but rewarding.
Aside from her friendship with Daisy, this place and these little ones are her primary source of joy and happiness. Their sense of pride as they accomplish new things and their excitement to take on the world is inspiring. She wishes everyone approached the world with the wonder children have, which may be why she laughs to herself while observing Jordan and Tony plotting a dragon attack on Marsha’s tower.
“So, how was the show last night?” Shannon, her co-educator, asks as she puts snacks for the children at the table after giving her the necessary updates about absent children and any changes to the daily routine.
“It was good. Their drummer was hot as Hades, so even if they sucked, there was eye candy at least. But the band was good. Very energetic.” Petra hands Shannon a drink, and she clasps her hands together and bows before her in praise.
“What does hot as Hades mean, Miss P?” Charlie, ever-observant, asks.
“It means something is very hot to touch, and so we need to be extra careful around it,” Petra says smoothly.
“Good one.” Shannon chuckles.
“All right, friends! Those of you who are ready to go outside can go to the bathroom quickly, and then we will get our shoes changed and get our coats to head into the world of leaves, trees, and bugs!”
The children collectively yell with excitement and rush to the bathroom.
* * *
Petra walks in the front door of her fifth-floor apartment, greeted by the loud meows of Morris, her plump orange tabby. She leans down, scratching him behind his ears exactly how he likes it and coos at him. “Hello, my handsome little dude. I’ve missed you too.” She scoops him up in her arms, nuzzling in his soft fur, and walks into her living room, depositing him in his favorite upholstered chair. As she strolls to her bedroom, she removes the bra under her shirt and steps out of her pants. A late night out on a school night and spending the day with a rambunctious group of fourteen preschoolers means she is Tired with a capital T. She enters the kitchen, grabs a Chinese takeout menu, and texts Daisy.
Petra
Hey loser!
