Page 32 of Of Potions and Honey
Of course, that didn’t mean they would do so immediately. Mira tried not to wring her hands too much while reasoning with herself, bouncing from foot to foot behind the counter. They had other things to do. She could wait.
And wait she did, almost until ten, when Hamish made his way through her newly clean front garden, up the stairs, and into her little shop.
“Morning Mira!” Hands in his hips, he looked around. “My, you’ve put some work into this.”
Whether he meant the potions, the spotless shop floor, or the flower decorations, he did not say. Perhaps all three. Mira pulled out her steadiest smile, trying not to hide too much behind the old facade. That wasn’t popular here.
“Thank you! It took a while, but I think it turned out well.”
“I will say.” He nodded. “I saw your primroses. They’re lovely.” He winked at her. “Your uncle’s recipe, I hope?”
“The very same.” She gestured at the shelf closest to the door. “I’m stocking it now.”
“Perfect! I’ve been waiting all week since Clara saw that sign at the general store. You know, my roses.”
“I remember.”
And just like that, Mira had made her first sale that was not on someone else’s behalf. Just a single bottle, but a sale nonetheless. Hamish was beaming when he paid, and profusely wished her good luck on his way out. It was enough to take the edge off her nerves. It would be fine. She was doing fine.
After Hamish, it took another half hour for the next person to come in – a haggard-looking woman wearing a headscarf and tugging two young children behind her.
“Good morning. Do you sell something for weeds? Against weeds? Oh, quiet, Amri, we’re having a snack soon, I promise!”
“I do.” This time, Mira didn’t wait for her to get it herself. She went and indicated the bottles. “What do you have problems with, exactly?”
“Creepvines. They’re strangling the seedlings as soon as we put them out, and we have to plant the tomatoes now.”
“Creepvines… Give me a moment.”
Trying not to let her embarrassment show, she went to the till and pulled the recipe book from the drawer. It would be some time until she had memorised every single use for every single recipe. Faking it didn’t feel right; this poor woman deserved the right product without guessing games on Mira’s part.
“Right.” Mira closed the book and quickly went to retrieve the correct bottles. “How much do you need? They’re high yield, but if it’s more than a small personal garden, one bottle might not do.”
“Four,” she replied immediately. “We need it for the farm.”
“I see.” Mira went to ring her up and wrap the bottles in old newspaper for safekeeping. Between the farm closures and the people she’d met, there weren’t many options left, andheadscarves weren’t too prevalent here, which meant this was likely… “Mrs. Ata, I assume?”
“Yes, yes. A pleasure.” She grabbed the smaller child by the back of their jacket. “No wandering off, how many times do I need to say that?” She glanced up from the pouting child. “Say, you don’t have anything in stock that makes those little devils behave, do you?”
Mira cleared her throat. “I’m afraid not. I’ve been told it gets better once they go to school, though.”
The woman huffed, but the ghost of a smile appeared. “Oh, I know, my oldest just started last year, and it has been a blessing.” She managed to put the bottles in her bag without losing her grip on either child. “I suppose I’ll just take the herbicide for now, then. Maybe letting them help with the tomatoes will burn off some of that energy. Good day!”
She ushered her squirmy offspring out the door, somehow deterred one from falling down the stairs and the other from beheading Mira’s primroses, and disappeared down the street. Mira watched them until they vanished behind Clara’s impressive hedge of dog roses. She winced in sympathy when both children tried to reach into the hedge and their mother just about managed to stop them. If she ever decided to start a family, she wasn’t quite sure if she wanted more than one, if that was what was waiting for her.
Until noon, she got to use the till two more times. A pair of what was obviously tourists spent a good ten minutes in the shop, which was approximately nine minutes more than they needed to browse every single shelf, and ended up buying nothing, instead asking if they could pick some of the primroses, which Mira firmly declined. They left in a huff. Someone else made up for it by buying one of almost everything besides the worm treatment shortly after. When Mira turned the sign to take her break, she did so with mixed feelings. She had definitelyhoped for more. As it was, she was still glad it hadn’t been a supremely lonely morning.
The afternoon brought clouds, and the trickle of people slowed down even more. In the middle of a very quiet hour, the bell chimed, startling Mira out of her reverie. She quickly turned away from the shop window, only to find nobody there. Puzzled, she peered around, out the door, and eventually around the counter. When she finally looked down, she found yellow eyes and a bushy tail.
“Meow.”
“Oh. Hi, Marigold.” Mira watched as the cat jumped elegantly on the counter, strutting up and down before she approached Mira with a silent but obvious request for petting, which Mira obliged. “You’re lucky everything’s in bottles in here, or I’d have to put you outside.”
Marigold’s response was a purr, which made Mira smile. Hard to feel like a day was wasted when you got to pet a cat.
“I assume you don’t have any disposable income to spend here?”
Marigold stretched with gusto, flicking the tip of her tail close to Mira’s nose. She did, however, not produce a wallet from an unseen pocket dimension.
