Free Miss Spelled (The Kitchen Witch 1) by Morgana Best

narrowing as if the answer was of importance to her.
    “Yes,” I said.
    “You didn’t have any trouble finding it? You’ve found your way around the house okay?” she asked, and Ruprecht shot her what to me looked like a warning look. This was getting stranger and stranger.
    “You look somewhat stressed,” Ruprecht said, as he accepted his glass from me. “I hope you aren’t going to too much trouble for us.”
    “No, no trouble at all,” I assured him. “Just way out of my league.”
    “You? Out of your league in the kitchen?” Thyme teased me. “I never would have guessed.”
    “Very funny,” I said. “When the rest of us are eating a delicious meal, and you’ve been sent to a timeout with no dinner, don’t be mad at me.”
    “I’m actually really looking forward to it,” Thyme said. “I’m proud of you for taking on something head on. I hope it goes well.”
    “So far, so good,” I said hopefully.
    Half an hour later, I was in the kitchen staring at some blackened vegetables burned to a crisp, and potatoes which had somehow turned to mush in the exact same oven. I felt like I wanted to cry. How had this happened?
    I turned and went to the dining room, where Ruprecht, Thyme, Mint, and Camino sat at the table.
    “I guess we can order a pizza,” I said, trying to smile, but feeling horrible.
    Thyme stood up. “It’s okay. Besides, I did bring something.”
    Thyme opened her large bag that was sitting on the table and pulled out another bag, this one white. “Veggie burgers,” she said, and then she laughed. “Just in case.”
    I couldn’t help but laugh. I had messed up dinner, just the way I had thought I would, but no one was mad. It was funny, silly, and Thyme had thought ahead to save the day, but in a way that didn’t make me feel an inch tall. The five of us laughed as I sat down at the table.
    “No faith in me, huh?” I joked.
    “I have a lot of faith in you,” Thyme said. “I just knew your oven would be on the fritz.”
    “Yeah, that’s what it was,” I said for a joke. “Sure, the oven was messed up.”
    “You can’t trust old things,” Ruprecht said. “Like me. I’m liable to break down at any moment too.”
    We all laughed. And so we spent the evening eating burgers from a local fast food joint, and laughing and telling stories. Ruprecht had a lot of life to share, and the rest of us listened to him speak with rapt attention.
    And then the talk turned to my aunt. They had all known her well. I hadn’t known my aunt at all, and listening to stories about her made me smile. By the time they had finished speaking about her, my cheeks hurt from smiling. “She sounds amazing,” I said.
    “She was,” Thyme said, and the old man next to her nodded.
    “It seems to run in the family,” Ruprecht added. “We’re so glad you’re here, dear.”
    “Me, too,” I said. “Would anyone like coffee?”
    “I’ll take a cup,” Ruprecht said.
    “Me too,” Thyme said. “You need any help?”
    I burst out laughing. “Trust me. Running the coffee maker is one thing I can do in the kitchen.”
    Ten minutes later, I set steaming mugs in front of everyone. “Let’s sit out front,” I suggested, and we all went outside. There were a few white wicker chairs out there, and we pulled them from their spot against the wall and set them up.
    The night was warm with a clear sky and an almost full moon. A soft breeze blew and the nearby trees rustled pleasantly.
    “I don’t even miss home,” I said.
    Thyme smiled at me. “This is home for you now.”
    I nodded. “It’s just weird, to spend so much time in one place, and then to leave it and realize it was never the right place for you,” I said. “And then you find somewhere and you just feel like, well, I don’t know, like how I feel about this place.”
    Ruprecht nodded in agreement. “We all feel like we belong here. Some of us are weirder than the others,” he added, making a show of pointing to Thyme, which made