Free The Flower Bowl Spell by Olivia Boler

one
note from a doctor on Cleo’s complaint about ghosts, which he has
chalked up to nightmares.
    I put everything back in the envelope and go
back to the bedroom, where I stick it in a drawer of my bedside
table. The clock reads 4:13. I am about to fall asleep when a
thought reels me back into wakefulness. Why did Viveka bother to
include the note about Cleo’s ghosts?
     
     

Chapter Eight
     
     
    In the morning, I call Auntie Tess and give
her a quick we need to talk . She agrees to meet at the
aquarium. This is Romola’s request—she’s working on a marine life
home-school project.
    The girls sleep in. Over breakfast, I tell
Cooper about the Arsenic Playground gig. He doesn’t hug me or give
me congratulations the way I expected him to when Ned first told me
about the assignment. It’s obvious what’s bugging him.
    “Don’t worry,” I say. “I’m taking the girls
with me.”
    He raises his eyebrows over his reading
glasses. “You are?”
    “Their mom knows.” I put my hand over his.
“It’s okay. We’ll only be gone a few days.” Then I see the look on
his face is not one of concern, but subdued relief. “And we’ll try
not to drive off a cliff and perish in a fireball of gasoline and
tire rubber.”
    He ignores this. “Where are you going?”
    “Santa Barbara, then San Diego.”
    “I take it you aren’t flying.”
    I give him a look. He knows very well that
I’m suspicious of airplanes and avoid them at all costs. Since I
reached adulthood, if I can’t drive or take a train, I don’t go. He
also knows that I don’t like to be teased about it.
    “We’ll drive. They’ll pay for the gas.”
    “Well, if you can get a sitter tonight, I’ll
take you out to dinner. That French place you’ve been wanting to
try.”
    “You mean you’ve been wanting to
try.”
    “Any excuse to eat good food.” He squeezes my
hand.
    I promise him I’ll see what I can do. The
girls wake up after he leaves, so there’s breakfast to get and hair
to brush. When I catch a free moment, I call my dog-walking boss
Justine and tell her I’ll be out of town. I also ask, since she’s a
mom, if she has any babysitting leads, but she pretty much just
laughs and laughs. “Oh, Memphis. You’re so cute. A sitter for tonight ? Last minute? Ha ha ha!” I say good-bye and hang
up.
    I still have my hand on the phone, the echo
of Justine’s disbelieving hoots echoing in my ears, as Viveka’s
girls come clambering up the outside stairs from the backyard. Our
flat is on the top floor and the downstairs neighbor has two little
kids. We share the back, which consists of a scraggly lawn and a
sycamore tree. Though it’s a portal hot spot, I haven’t exactly put
up a sign advertising it. The grass is often strewn with various
plastic toys and someone has tied a tire with rope to one of the
tree’s branches.
    I wonder if now is a good time to ask the
girls what they know about their pit stop with me, a total
stranger, but I hold back. I need them to trust me, and I have
sensed their guard is up, especially Romola’s. Cleo is more open,
but there’s a challenge there. A challenge, I’m sure, that she’s
waiting with good-natured mischief for me to take up.
    “That’s a nice garden,” Romola says.
    “Oh, good. I’m glad you think so.” I take my
hand off the phone. “What did you do back there?”
    She shrugs. “Mostly we looked for birds.”
    “Portents,” Cleo chirrups.
    I laugh. “That’s a pretty big word for a
three-year-old.”
    “Portents of doom and promise.” She giggles
and tucks her cheek against her shoulder in a show of shyness. “The
air is all wiggly in your garden.”
    Hm. That’s an apt description of portal
vibrations.
    “She always talks like that,” Romola says
airily. “Could we have a snack, please?”
    “Sure thing.” I jump up from my chair. Of
course, they did just eat breakfast, but I suppose children have to
nosh constantly. They’re growing, after all.
    I pull out some