The Witches of Dark Root: Daughters of Dark Root: Book One (The Daughters of Dark Root) (18 page)

“But what about the tourists? Why aren’t there people here?”

“From what I can gather, once you girls moved away, your mother just gave up and the rest of the town followed. You Maddocks were the cogs and gears that made this place run.”

I looked down at my lap, ashamed. “I just can’t believe the shop is closed.”
 

Shane shrugged, trying to play diplomat. “Uncle Joe said your mother hired a girl to work there for a while, but it still fell apart. She couldn’t bring in the customers like you girls did.”

I laughed at the irony. “I think Eve and I scared off more customers than we brought in.”
 

“Don’t blame yourself, Maggie. Your mother got old and sick. Her health started going, along with her mind.” He gave me a sympathetic look and pressed his lips together, saying no more. If his goal was to make me feel better, he was doing a terrible job.

June Bug yawned, unbuckled her seat belt, and curled up into my side. She closed her eyes and within minutes her breathing deepened. I lowered my voice.

“Why are you here Shane? What’s in it for you?”

He closed his eyes briefly. When he reopened them I saw a spark that wasn’t there before. “I’m an optimist. I loved this place when I was a kid. When Uncle Joe left me the diner in his will, I decided to give it a go. I didn’t have much of a home growing up...” He choked, covering his mouth with this fist. “...This was always home.”
 

He peered at the empty road ahead of us through the windshield.
 

“I know this sounds cliché,” he said. “But if we all work together, we can turn things around. We just have to get your mother’s shop up and running again, and start talking to some of the other business owners around here...”

June Bug was now snoring on my shoulder. I cupped my hand loosely over her ear, responding to him in a harsh whisper. “In case you’ve forgotten since last night, I’m not staying.” I shook my head wildly. “This is only a temporary stop for me. Don’t try and rope me into this.”

“No, I haven't forgotten. Was just hoping you would change your mind when you saw all this. You could be of some real help.”

“Listen, I spent my whole childhood trying to move away from this town. I’m not about to make it my permanent residence.”

“Move away or run away?”

I shook my head. He was unbelievable. “Call it what you will, but I’m leaving in a few days. Don’t get too attached.”

“And where are you going? Back to California?”

I still hadn’t formulated that plan yet. But it didn’t matter. I had left once without knowing where I was going, and I could do it again. And this time I had close to a thousand bucks on me to make the trip.

“Not California. Maybe Texas or Arizona. Someplace warm.”

“Will you stay for a while anyways? Just to see how things go?”

I slumped against the side of the door, depressed. My hand dropped away from June Bug’s ear and she stirred next to me. “Again, I don’t know. Can’t we just take things one day at a time for now? I haven’t even been back to my real home yet. God knows what waits for me there.”

“Same old Maggie,” Shane said, his face both incredulous and sad. He removed the key from the ignition and opened the door as Paul’s car pulled in behind us.

“Took them long enough,” I grumbled. “They must have taken the scenic route.”

I opened my door and got out, then shook June Bug carefully awake. She yawned, smiled, and offered me her arms. I lifted her out of the vehicle and set her on the sidewalk.

“Well,” Shane said, regaining his cheerful composure. “Ready to see my little contribution to Dark Root’s booming economy?” He gave me a sideways grin as he made his way towards Dip Stix and unlocked the door.
 

It was dim inside. He flipped the light and June Bug and I followed him in.
 

Delilah’s Deli, aka Dip Stix Cafe, looked exactly as it had ten years ago. Red and white checkered curtains, beige tablecloths, metal fold-up chairs and square tables topped with glass vases and real flowers. The wooden floor was worn, but clean enough to make out my reflection when I looked down. The small counter where the register and candy dish were located was fingerprint free. The room was immaculate, if dated, and I felt a wave of gratitude towards Shane for keeping up the place. Something from my childhood had remained intact.
 

“I see you kept the artwork,” I teased, motioning towards the dozens of lacquered Elvis plaques and commemorative plates that covered the walls.
 

Uncle Joe had found the first two at a local estate sale and thought they would add some color to his otherwise sparse walls. But once he started putting them up, others contributed to the collection and soon the entire restaurant was covered in Elvis images in various stages of weight gain and age. It was a long-running joke in Dark Root that one needn’t go to Graceland to see Elvis; you only had to go to Delilah’s Deli.

“I’m thinking of taking them down.” Shane scratched his head and looked around the room. “I'm beginning to feel like I'm being watched.”

“Oh, you can’t,” I laughed. He was about to protest so I added, “At least keep a few. Promise?” I smiled sweetly and batted my eyelashes.
 

The result must have been comical rather than sultry because Shane burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing he had ever seen.

“Well, when you ask like that, I suppose I could keep a few up, to honor Uncle Joe. But I do think this place needs some updating. We won’t attract many younger people here with this kind of décor. I was hoping you ladies might be able to assist with Feng Shui-ing up the place.”

“Maybe,” I said noncommittally. I did like to decorate. “I guess I could help out while I’m here.”
 

June Bug, who had been holding my hand, slipped away to hide under one of the tables, just as her mother and I used to when we were kids.

Shane stroked his chin, considering. “I’ll take what I can get. If you have any ideas at all for this place, I’m listening.”
 

I glanced into the back room, just beyond the kitchen area, where there were boxes and bins shoved into every corner. The cleanliness of the place extended only throughout the main room.
 

“It would be easier to burn the place down and rebuild than to try and get rid of all this clutter,” I observed.

“Maybe.” Shane raised both eyebrows playfully. “How are your arson skills?”

The front door flew open and a sharp gust of cold wind hit my cheeks.
 

“We made it!” Eve entered the restaurant, arms overhead like she were arriving at a party. She had somehow changed clothes and was now wearing a pair of sleek, black leggings, knee-high boots, and a grey sweater with a fur-lined collar. Her dark hair looked extra shiny.
 

I must have been so preoccupied with her newly-enhanced cleavage earlier that I hadn’t noticed she now had bangs.

“Mommy!” June Bug crawled out from under the table and raced towards her mother, who scooped her up in her arms and spun her around.

“Sorry for the delay,” Merry said, after putting June Bug down and removing her brown leather gloves. “Our fashionista sister made us turn around so she could change clothes.” Merry playfully rolled her eyes.

“You never know when you’re going to run into a really cute guy.” Eve smiled as Paul wandered in. He took off his knit beanie and immediately began inspecting the Elvis memorabilia.

“Cool,” he said, pointing to a clock in the shape of Elvis’s face. The clock wasn’t working, and the small hand was permanently pointing up Elvis’s nose. Paul made his way to the next in line, a wooden plaque depicting Elvis in a solid white jumpsuit. “Bad ass. This one’s from
Viva Las Vegas.
Only Elvis could have pulled that look off...”

“You’re into Elvis, huh?” I asked, the corner of my mouth curling up into a smile. Eve sure could pick them.

“Elvis was the king of rock and roll.” Paul spoke with a confidence that said his statement was an irrefutable truth, one so infallible that the Universe would collapse in on itself if it was ever disproven.

I was about to argue that Elvis was a bloated, overrated, drug addict when Shane, sensing a confrontation, stepped in.

“Take the clock,” he said to Paul. Then he turned to me. “Step one in the Feng Shui process.”

“No fricken way!” Paul looked like he had just been told he’d won the lottery.
 

He carefully removed the clock from the wall and wrapped it in paper napkins, then dug a pen out of his back pocket and wrote PAUL on it in capital letters, just in case anyone else had designs on the artifact.

“Well, after that depressing tour of Dark Root, I’m happy to see this place hasn’t changed much.” Eve inspected the cafe, sniffing at the air. “Even smells the same.” She peeked her nose into the kitchen. “Ah, the gravy vat.”

I could hear her opening drawers and pulling out silverware and I followed her in. She was dipping a spoon in the gravy and eating it like soup. I took a spoon and joined her. Even without biscuits it was delicious.

“Girls!” Merry said, horrified. “That’s disgusting. You’re contaminating the whole pot.”

Shane laughed. “Don’t worry. That was from this morning. I was going to get rid of it, anyways.”

“Yeah, Merry.” I teased her. “It’s from the morning. We are just making sure it doesn’t go to waste.”

Eve offered Merry a ladle of her own.
 

“What the hell,” Merry said.

I imagined that Shane found the sight amusing, the three of us eating straight gravy out of his pot, but I didn’t care. I realized I might be on the road soon, where gravy was hard to come by. I was going to get it while the getting was good.

Shane went to a sink full of dirty dishes and turned on the water, squeezing in a shot of dish soap. The water foamed and he tested the heat with his hand.
 

“Normally, I have this all cleaned up by now, but I was in a hurry to see you guys.” He blushed and looked surprisingly like that dorky kid I was starting to remember from childhood. “Just don’t tell the Health Department. They might take away my gravy card.”

“Your secret is safe with us,” I said, scraping what was left of the gravy from the bottom of the pot.

Merry dipped her hands in the dish water, then wiped them off with a paper towel. “I think the powers that be have bigger fish to fry than Dip Stix, Shane. Like harassing our family.”

I gave Merry a quizzical look but she nodded towards June Bug who was playing near the kitchen entrance.
 

“Anyways,” Merry said, changing the subject. “What else do you serve here, besides your amazing biscuits and gravy?”

Shane dried the last dish and put it away in a cupboard. He then opened a drawer and produced a stack of paper menus that he handed out to each of us.
 

“Everything on this menu.” He stood taller, extending his chest like Superman.
 

In addition to biscuits, there were also chips, bread sticks, pretzels, french fries, and taquitos.
 

“This menu is a list of appetizers,” I said. “No wonder you don’t get many customers.”

“Not appetizers. These are all things you can dip. Hence the name, Dip Stix Cafe.” He tapped the side of his temple twice. “Patrons get their choice of something to dip, and something to dip into. Read the back.”

I flipped the menu and saw a list that read,
Dip Stix Famous Dipping Sauces: spinach, cheese, salsa, marinara, guacamole, and gravy.

“I haven’t added the bean dip yet,” Shane said. “It’s a new creation and my best so far. You’re going to love it.”

It was a nice idea, and in a city this might have gone over, but Dip Stix was the only restaurant in Dark Root. Hungry customers would probably want something more, like a hamburger or a sandwich. I almost mentioned this, but decided against it. I may have traveled a bit in the last few years, but I was hardly ‘worldly.’ This was Eve’s domain.

I looked to her for backup, but she was too busy admiring the Elvis pictures with Paul. I wrinkled my nose. Eve had about as much love for Elvis as I did, which was none. I wondered how long she would be able to continue the ruse before she got busted.