Marcie, a woman in an unhappy relationship, gets a little magical help as she learns to focus her love on the right person.
This story was contributed by Sabrina Blackburry
Hey bb
Can't make it 2nite
C U at home
Three lines of texts. Three little lines of texts, in a long string of disappointing messages lately. I sighed, scrolling up and trying to find the last time I got one of his short and sweet ILY messages.
"Marcie, are you on your phone again?" Clara asked. "I know your boyfriend sucks, but you're going to cut your fingers off if you're distracted."
I pocketed my phone, blushing as I looked over to my manager.
"Sorry, Clara." I picked up the knife and went back to cutting off the overflow chocolate from the candy molds we had just emptied. Soon they would be decorations on the top of an assortment of chic cupcakes at a Valentine's Day party. The kind of event I'd love to be at tonight, but instead I guess I could start planning my romantic takeout order from down the street and which set of sweatpants I was going to wear on the couch. Alone.
The bell over the door chimed as a customer came in. I groaned internally, we had just gotten over the last rush and had a moment to breathe, and now here was another last minute Valentine's shopper, probably looking for an afterthought gift because they don't know how to prioritize and plan their week. Around a holiday! That comes around EVERY YEAR! I mean, how hard is it to remember a day of romance with your girlfriend when she's the one who did all the work? Huh? Reservations at your favorite place, a walk by the river, and a giftcard to that new skating rink that you suggested we try sometime?
"Marcie," Clara hissed. "You're scowling again."
I blinked. Oops.
"Welcome, do you need any help?" Clara called.
The young woman who was browsing our boxes of truffles looked up at us and smiled. "No thanks, I just came for my Mom's favorites. It's Valentine's Day, you know?"
I clenched my jaw. Yeah, I know.
The woman came up to the counter and Clara started ringing her up when she looked over to me. "You look like you could use a little love today."
I resisted the urge to sigh at her. My throat tightened. Instead, I answered very softly. "Maybe."
She nodded, and pulled something from her purse. "Here, I highly recommend her, and her shop isn't far from here. Why don't you get a drink after work?"
I looked at the business card she had slid across the counter to me. I set down my knife and took off my glove, picking it up to see better.
"Magical Mary's Drinks and Tonics," I murmured, looking up. "Is this a bar?"
The young woman giggled. "No, but I promise she'll have something to help. Love is her specialty."
"Thank you," Clara said, bagging up the customer's purchase. "Come again!"
The woman winked at me, and left with her bag of truffles. I stared after her, then back at the card again. Flipping it over, there was a tiny map. It really is close by. Strange that I haven't seen it before.
"Do you want to go?" Clara asked.
I looked down at the card again. "What, to the drink place for love help? Pffft. What is a drink going to do, make Lance clean up his act?"
Clara shrugged. "Stephanie is back from break any second now, and your shift ends in half an hour anyway. Clean up, get out. Maybe a drink will at least make you feel better."
I looked down at the card again.
"Okay, sure. Thanks." I cleaned up my tools and took off my apron.
"Have a good night, Marcie. Even if it's with yourself, okay?"
I smiled as I grabbed my purse from under the counter. "I'll try. See you tomorrow, Clara."
She blew me a kiss, I laughed and I went out the door.
I looked down at the little map on the card. Was I really doing this? I guess so, because the sad reality of going home alone wasn't as appealing as buying into some kind of magic drink mumbo jumbo.
The store was easy to find once I found the street. But it was tiny, the width of it barely large enough to hold the door and front window.
Going inside, I was met with a warm smile by an old woman. Her hair was in a neat white bun and her purple apron was speckled with age and use. Magical Mary.
The place looked like a coffee shop more than anything else, though some of the ingredients behind the counter looked much more interesting than a pump of vanilla or mocha syrup.
"Welcome, honey. Step on over to my counter and tell me what seems to be the trouble."
There were no other customers around. Hesitantly, I walked over and took a seat on the first stool.
"Um, well I'm not too sure what I need. I'm here for a pick-me-up I guess," I mumbled.
"Hmm, that is a problem. I can't serve you what you want, only what you need." She smiled. "Will that do?"
"I guess I'll take what you recommend then."
The old woman looked me over, tapping her fingers on the counter and humming a soft tune to herself while she stared. "Okay, I think I've got a read on the situation. You're unhappy, and it's because of lost love. That I can fix."
I raised an eyebrow. "You can?"
She chuckled. "I can see your skepticism. If you want my help, give me a five dollar bill and a breath mint from your purse."
"How did you know I had-"
"Mints? Come now, I can't give away trade secrets." She winked. "A five dollar bill and a breath mint. And kiss the bill before you hand it over."
With no small amount of confusion and concern, I pulled the mint and money from my purse and set it on the counter.
"Don't forget the kiss," she said.
I took the bill back, kissed it quickly, and set it back down.
"Perfect. One lost love latte coming up!" She took the mint, the five, and spun around to her counter where she began measuring things and turning on a coffee pot.
I watched as she steamed milk, crushed up the mint, and began adding things I couldn't read the labels of until Finally she was done.
"Here you go." She turned around and slid a small paper cup to me. "Drink it quickly and hurry home. Love can grow quickly if you're nurturing it."
I smelled it. It didn't seem too off. "Um, thank you."
She beamed at me, and turned back to clean up her counter.
I slid off the stool and made my way to the door. Lost love latte? Hmm.
Once my shoes hit the sidewalk and her strange shop was behind me, I took a sip. It was actually pretty good. Mint and spice and a hint of hazelnut. I drank it on the way back to my apartment, but it didn't make me feel any better.
Down the street, turn the corner, down another street to the crosswalk, I walked and sipped and finally reached my building. My latte was empty, and I disposed of it in the lobby trash can beforeI took the familiar steps up, and up, and up to the fourth floor.
With a sigh, I hung my coat and locked the door behind me.
I kicked off my work shoes and went straight for the dresser where I could find my favorite comfortable clothes.
Opening the top drawer, I clenched my jaw as I observed Lance's socks all over the place, even on my half.
"Dammit, Lance," I grumbled, taking the socks out and putting them back in neatly if not angrily. "Is it that hard for you? I do the laundry, the least you could do is not throw it everywhere!"
"Mrow."
I blinked. Was that a cat?
"Mrow!"
We're on the fourth floor. Why is there a cat?
I walked over to the bedroom window where the fire escape was. Sure enough, a tiny white cat sat on the ledge.
"Aw, how'd you get up here?" I asked, putting my hand outside for it to sniff. "It's freezing, do you want to come in for a bit?"
"Mrow!"
The cat let me pick it up, and I brought it in as I shut the window.
"This isn't permanent, my boyfriend is allergic. But he's not home tonight so you've got a warm bed. Deal?"
The kitten started to purr, bringing a smile to my face.
"Well, at least someone's happy today," I said, scratching its chin.
"Mrow!"
"Okay, you sit tight while I change clothes." I set the cat down next to the dresser and pulled out my favorite sweater and sweatpants. If I couldn't get dressed up and go out, I'd at least be comfortable.
"Much better. Alright, now how about dinner?" I picked up the cat and walked it into the kitchen. "Let's see... if I got a larger order of shrimp lo mein would you want some shrimp? Can cats even eat shrimp? Maybe chicken would be better..."
Looking over the menu with a purring cat in my arm was kind of soothing. I picked what I thought would be the safest thing to share, and dialed the restaurant. Tonight was a delivery kind of night. After all, sometimes I need to give myself a break.
I blinked. A break. When did I ever give myself a break? Maybe I should be a little easier on myself. Maybe I'm just short with Lance lately because I'm stressed.
"How do you feel about a spa day, kitty?" I asked. "I'm thinking of a face mask, slippers, and a sad movie. What do you say? I'm a sucker for tear jerkers."
"Mrow!"
"Good. Let's get it all set up before the food gets here."
I dug out a cardboard box from the bottom of the hall closet and set up an old towel in there for the cat. "There. Now you won't spread too much fur around and it will be easier to clean up when you go."
The box fit nicely on the couch next to where I liked to sit. Then, I went through the bathroom for all the things I would want for my self care evening. Yeah, a self care evening, that's what this will be. I need to take better care of myself. What was that thing Mom used to say? If you don't pick a day off occasionally, your body will pick one for you. Good call, Mom. I pick today.
I hummed a tune while I dug through the cabinets. I got my mask, a new color of nail polish and all the supplies to go with it. I even went to the kitchen and pulled out a beer and the last chocolate cupcake from a box I got at work.
Sitting down on the couch with everything, I checked on the kitten. "Happy Valentine's Day. Cheers!"
I cracked open the beer and took a cool drink. Grabbing the remote, I flipped through my streaming service to find the perfect movie. I grinned as I selected one Lance hated, just as the doorbell rang.
"That must be the food, you stay here," I told the cat.
I opened the door, feeling in a lighter mood than I had in a long while. That is, until the door fully opened to reveal my boyfriend.
"Lance, I thought you weren't coming home tonight." I opened the door wider for him. "And why are you ringing the bell?"
"Left my key at Daryl's," he growled, walking past me to the kitchen. "Did you take one of my beers?"
My eyes darted to the couch and everything I had set up. "Yeah. Wait, that still doesn't tell me why you came home early."
Lance popped open his own drink and leaned against the fridge as he faced me. "Daryl found a new place he wanted to check out for pool nights. He was real excited about it, and insisted I come with him. But we get there and the place is packed!"
My face fell. "You're mad that a bar... was packed... on Valentine's Day?"
"Right? What kind of jerk takes their date to a bar?" Lance asked, then took a drink from his beer.
"What kind of jerk cancels his date last minute?" I said, before I realized what I was saying. My eyes widened.
"What?" Lance's head jerked up as he looked at me. "I told you, Daryl really wanted me to go with him. You know how Daryl gets."
I took a slow breath. "You're not dating Daryl, you're dating me. I deserved better."
Lance rolled his eyes. "Babe, don't be unreasonable."
He went to take another sip of his beer, then he paused, and sneezed.
"Mrow!"
Lance's frowned. "Is that a cat? You know I'm allergic.!"
I looked over at the box, a tiny white head was sticking out, watching us.
"Yeah, it was outside in the cold. I let it in for a few hours since you weren't supposed to be home tonight."
"Well get rid of it," Lance said. "I can't live with a cat, you should know that."
"Mrow."
I stared at Lance. When did I reach this point? When did it go from romance to... this? But I blinked, and suddenly a realization hit me. I was right a moment ago when I said I deserved better. Smiling, I relaxed my shoulders. "Then, don't live here."
Lance looked mad now. "Excuse me?"
"Get out." I grinned, crossing my arms over my chest. "If it's between you and the cat, I choose the cat."
"Babe-"
"No," I snapped. "Get out. Pack a bag, leave, and I'll box the rest up tomorrow. You're not even on the lease. Get. Out."
"You're serious?" Lance asked. "Where am I supposed to go?"
I grinned, walking to the bedroom where I pulled his gym bag off the floor and shoved some of his clothes into it. I came back out, and tossed him the bag. "Go to Daryl's."
"You know what? Fine! You're a stuck up bitch anyway." Lance took the bag, and stormed out of the apartment, but not before throwing his beer on the kitchen floor out of spite.
But I didn't care. Screw Lance. Who needed love anyway?"
"Mrow."
I walked over and picked up the kitten. "Well little guy, do you want to extend your stay?"
"Mrow!"
Lost love latte. Pfft, some help that was. I deserve better than Lance.
I blinked, then I smiled.
"Actually," I murmured to the kitten. "Maybe the love I lost... was for myself."
"Mrow!"
"Good call, let's clean this up and watch that movie."
If I could love an asshole like Lance, maybe I could love myself too.
***************
Hello, I'm Sabrina and I like to write love and magic. I hope you enjoyed my short story, and I hope you find love this Valentine's Day, especially for yourself. Read more from Sabrina here