Page 25 of A Witch's Guide to Surviving Halloween
“That is pretty weird . . .” I trail off, recalling everything he’s told me over the past couple of days. “He did mention tonight that his grandfather started his own business away from family and that no one knew why.”
“See!” She squeals, bouncing in delight at her own competence.
“But that still doesn’t explain why you think I’m—we’re—cursed.”
“When I figured out the connection, I started going through Grandma’s old diaries from that time to see if there was any correlation between then and what’s happening with the magic now.” She pauses, worrying at her bottom lip.
“And . . . ?” I prod.
“It was Grandma. She cursed you.”
Chapter Ten
STELLA’S DIARY
October 10, 1967
Father’s funeral was today. At forty-two years old, pneumonia found his already weakened lungs, and there was nothing I could do. Mama always said those years of factory work when he was young would catch up with him, but the family needed that money to keep Moonlit Pages going, and Father was nothing if not selfless. He took that factory job so his own father wouldn’t have to permanently lock those bookstore doors, and where did that get him? Buried beneath six feet of maggot-infested dirt.
I buried him next to Mama and left some flowers by her headstone. She would have liked that, I think. I don’t remember her too well anymore. It’s been so long since she passed, giving birth to my stillborn brother. ButFather buried them together, so now all three of them can spend some family time together beyond the veil.
All I have left now is Richard.
Oh, how Father loved Richard . . .
October 12, 1967
I’ve decided I’m not going to let Father’s passing be in vain. I don’t care what the banks say. It’s 1967, dammit! Women can own property, we can vote, and the government says we can own a bank account (like I needed permission from a bunch of pompous men in a courtroom somewhere).
I told Richard, and he couldn’t have been happier for me! Said that all my moping around wasn’t like me, and he was ready to give me a good kick in the pants if it got my ass into action. And he’s right! I know Moonlit Pages and Ashwood Haven inside and out, been working there since I was old enough to shelve books and dust spines. I deserve Moonlit Pages and tomorrow, I’m going to march right down to the bank (well . . . ride down to the bank in Richard’s Catalina, but you get the point) and demand they honor Father’s will!
October 14, 1967
They said no! Can you believe it? I mean, I expected it, but I just can’t believe they actually said no! Right tomy face and everything. My goodness, that man couldn’t have been more condescending if I had been on my knees!
“Well, if you were married, Ms. Nova,” he said as if that matters! Needing a man’s signature, as if it were still the 40s. This is 1967! I have every right to own my family’s business, and no rat-faced man in a poorly fitted suit is going to tell me otherwise.
To think I wore Mama’s pearls for this!
October 15, 1967
I can’t believe it. I really can’t believe it.
You will never believe what Richard said to me!
I told him of my plan to go back to the bank. That I was going to sit down with Rat-Face, and I wasn’t going to leave until he agreed or I talked to his boss and got him fired. No matter what, I was going to get my business before it was taken away.
And you want to know what he said to me?
He said we should get married! That we should just get married and he would sign the papers so that I could keep Moonlit Pages and avoid all this nonsense. As if that was the point!!
Men, I swear!
I told him I would never give in to such an archaic line of thinking and that I deserved to own Moonlit Pages as much as he deserved to own The Daily Bread.He took over the bakery a couple of years ago after his daddy died, and do you think any rat-faced man told him no? NO! He went and signed those papers just like that! No hassle, no condescension.
But I have to be married. I have to have a man sitting next to me and patting my head like a child, making sure I stay in line.
Well, I’m not going to let anyone dictate how I run my own business. Damn them all, I’m going to do this my way.
