One
“Marjorie, Help me!”
The door to our shop flew open, and Tara’s voice pierced the air as she ran toward me, nearly tripping over her full skirts in her rush.
I looked over at my grandmother busily mixing potions at her window table. Gran’s lush blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, catching the sunlight. She was a stunning woman. Her green eyes sparkled as she smiled and shook her head lightly, clearly amused at the drama being played out. Tara plopped her arms onto the counter, flipping her long, pale blonde hair as she looked back at the door and then to me.
“What is it, Tara?” I asked.
“Oh my God, Marjorie. He’s here, I mean right here. Kat saw him with his mom and sister getting off the train. He can’t see me like this. Help!”
Tara turned to her reflection in the window
