Page 12 of Of Potions and Honey
And with that, he was off, leaving Mira with a pile of wood she didn’t know where to store. A rack underneath ivy she hadn’t even known was there. She sighed deeply. Another item on her growing list of things that needed doing before she could even think about re-opening the shop.
The sun was already dipping low towards the horizon when Mira finally decided that it was enough for today. She wasn’t quite sure that she could quantify what ‘it’ was, exactly, but it was definitely enough for a single day.
The kitchen at least was positively sparkling now, the one room where she could actually see progress. The bathroom, as she had slowly realised, simplylookedthat way – a very old-fashioned beige with brown spots, presumably a design choice. Mira hoped that it was, anyway.
Outside of that, she had made a valiant attempt to get the dust out of the house, though between going back and forth between rooms and constantly keeping the windows open to get rid of the musty, stale air, there seemed to be more of it every minute. Feeling a little defeated – and uncomfortably covered in grime – Mira eventually decided to call it a day, got a cup of water from the pump that she drank in one go, and then settled on her front steps with another one to sip while she surveyed her front garden. Another project whose scope seemed too big to even know where to begin. At least she had found the rack for the firewood, not that she had the tools to cut away the weeds and the ivy to actually be able to use it.
She was zoned out, contemplating the overgrown lavender near the fence as well as her life choices, when she heard someone call out from the street, startling her back to the present.
“Yes, hello!”
When Mira looked up, two people were hovering near her gate, which was still lying on the ground, albeit out of the way now. They seemed to be her parents’ age, perhaps a littleyounger, and wearing the kind of sturdy, sensible clothes she had seen on almost everyone here in Emberglen.
“Can I help you?”
The man smiled brightly. “No helping. We were just wondering if someone had moved into the house, is all.” He thumbed at his own chest, then at the petite woman with a shock of silver hair next to him. “I’m Hamish Dixon, and this is Clara, the best wife of them all.” The woman giggled like a teenager even as she gave Mira a little wave. “We’re your neighbours, two houses down that-a-way. Assuming you really live here now, that is.”
Tired, but desperate to make a good first impression, Mira stood and went down to meet them by the fence.
“I do.” She held out her hand. “Mira Gardener.”
He shook her hand with a grip that told her he was used to lifting heavy things, and his wife’s handshake was only slightly more gentle. “Nice to meet you, Mira Gardener. It’s nice to see a house selling, instead of just alwaysbeingsold.”
“I didn’t buy, technically,” Mira said. “The house was left to me.”
“Oh!” Clara Dixon clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Lochlin never said he had a daughter!”
“Grand-niece,” Mira corrected. The couple exchanged glances.
“You one of them kids who used to run amuck here every summer?” Hamish asked. There was humour in his tone though.
“I am. Was, I suppose. It’s been some time.”
“It sure has been,” Clara mused. “We already thought the house was just going to go to ruin.” She glanced at the extension on the left-hand side, the front of the shop. “Say, you’re not going to take over for him, are you?”
Mira felt a sudden rush of heat in her cheeks – and the odd urge to lie and tell them no. She didn’t want to, but telling them that yes, she was going to do that…
It, strangely, made it seem much more real – and panic-inducing – than talking about it back home.
“Yes,” she finally squeezed out. “That’s the idea.”
“Really?” Hamish’s face lit up. “Say, you wouldn’t be able to take orders now? Because we have a rose garden out back, but without Lochlin’s fertiliser- Oof!”
Clara retracted her elbow. “Hamish! Don’t pressure her like that, your precious roses will survive a little longer without. Let her settle in first, she only just got here.”
“Ah.” Mira twisted the edge of her shirt around her fingers and cursed herself for not having a better, more professional-sounding answer. “I’m not quite sure yet. There’s a lot still to do.”
“Right, of course, sorry.” Hamish looked a little sheepish. “Still, if you could let me know when you’re gonna open the shop back up, that’d be much appreciated. There’s certain steps here, and I’ll need to plan ahead. Roses are little princesses, but if you treat them right, they’ll preen for you all summer long!”
“Yes, and we all appreciate a nice bouquet of them,” Clara said. “Come now. We’ve kept the poor girl long enough.” She waved at Mira. “Welcome to Emberglen, we love having you here. And if you need anything, don’t you hesitate to ask!”
She dragged her husband away, who flailed his goodbye at Mira, who watched them stroll down the street and disappear into the bright yellow house with the white door and windows. So those were her neighbours. Some of them, at least. She was fairly sure at least a few of the other houses on the street were lived in. Mira smiled when she returned up the steps to collect her glass and go inside. If they were all this nice, maybe things wouldn’t be as hard as she feared after all.
Seven
Owingtosomesortof miracle, Mira managed to get the house into an acceptable shape just in time for her belongings to be delivered. Barely, but at least she wouldn’t have to put her mattress on the grimiest bedroom floor known to mankind. Still on the floor, but a clean one.
Which was a somewhat frightening realisation, because now that she had the house in order, the next task was waiting for her, and it was by far the more difficult one: Getting the shop back up and running.
