Mist on the Meadow (6 page)

Uncle Balt took her hands in his. “In the old
country, the
Kundigerinen
were hunted, like the Salem
witches here. My sister and I came to this country to escape such a
fate. Our family has migrated back and forth through the years,
trying to stay one step ahead, and even today, there are those who
fear the knowledge they do not possess. You can use the gifts
you’ve been born too, Marissa, but you must be careful.”

Marissa sniffled, whether from the emotion or
the cold, she wasn’t certain. “Are you telling me I’m a witch?”

Uncle Balt smiled. “Not a witch, a
Kundigerin
.”

A snowplow scraped against the street,
shattering the silence that shrouded them. Prickles of fear
replaced the peace of the perfect moment. Uncle Balt still held
Marissa’s hands, but he appeared older again, and his voice was
raspy with age.

“Wolf Harper has need of your talents,” he
said.

Marissa furrowed her brow. How did Wolf
Harper fit into any of this?

Uncle Balt held up one finger. “But you can’t
tell him.”

Marissa pulled away. “I think we should get
back inside.” She took one step toward the house but, with one last
glance over her shoulder, she reached instead for Uncle Balt, who
crumpled to the sidewalk.

Marissa rode to the hospital in the ambulance
alongside Uncle Balt while the rest of the family followed in the
car. At the hospital, she argued to stay by her great-uncle’s side,
but when she demanded to know what was wrong, the doctor remained
stubbornly close-mouthed.

“He needs rest. We’d like to keep him
overnight for observation,” was all the doctor would say.

“What’s wrong with him?” Marissa asked for
the umpteenth time.

“He’s invoked his doctor-patient privilege.”
The doctor gave her a smile and patted her hand. “I should be able
to release him tomorrow. Go home. Get some rest.”

“Go,” her mother said. “Your father will stay
with him. We’ll call you if anything changes.”

Her father nodded, but still Marissa wouldn’t
leave.

“Don’t worry your pretty head,
meine
Liebling
,” Uncle Balt croaked. “Leave an old man to rest. I’ll
see you tomorrow.”

And so she left, against her better judgment.
She went home and booted up her computer. She hadn’t had a chance
to check the café’s calendar for special orders before she
left.

Dozens of internet orders had been placed
since the café closed. She should have anticipated the extra
volume, so close to Christmas, and yet the number of orders
surpassed even her most optimistic guess. Marissa stroked the cat,
who stretched out on the bed beside her. “I have to go back to the
café.”

Marissa dialed Angela’s number as she walked
to her car.

“What?” Angela asked in a less than cheerful
voice.

“I just checked the calendar for special
orders. I’m headed to the café.”

“I checked before I left. There weren’t that
many.” Angela groaned. “I’m already half asleep.”

“Web orders must have been coming in all day.
Angela, there are twenty orders for cupcakes alone.”

“Maybe I’ll meet you there.”

No maybe about it.

Marissa shoved her phone in her pocket. She
knew Angela would meet her at the café.

They were still baking when Becky arrived to
open the shop. “Have you guys been here all night?” she asked while
they decorated cakes and cupcakes and cookies.

Marissa and Angela exchanged glances before
they looked at the clock.

“It would appear so,” Angela replied.

Becky. That meant it was time to open.
Marissa’s brain fired a spark of panic. “Breakfast. Did we make
rolls and coffee cake?”

“I did.” Angela turned around and pushed a
cooling rack in Becky’s direction. “Box these up before you open
the doors.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll fill the
display case.”

At five minutes after seven, Angela was back
in the kitchen.

“I can’t believe how many orders came in last
night,” Marissa said.

“No kidding. There were only two when we
closed yesterday.” Angela nodded to the front of the shop. “Where
did all those people come from?”

Marissa wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m
done for the moment. I’ll go, and I’ll call Noah to start early.
And Max.”

Angela nodded while she squeezed icing from a
pastry bag.

Becky was stationed at the cash register. Her
blonde braids swung while she swiveled, poured coffee and handed
out pastries. Marissa stopped beside the phone in the kitchen
doorway and ran her finger down the short list of numbers before
she pushed Noah’s.

“Early?” she asked when he answered.

“Ten minutes,” he replied, and hung up.

She grabbed her cell phone and sent a text to
Max. He wouldn’t answer this early in the morning, but he’d check
his texts.

Marissa hovered behind Becky and filled the
orders as Becky rang them up.

“What’s the treat of the day?” an old
gentleman asked.

“We’re a little overwhelmed with special
orders,” Marissa replied. “Haven’t had a chance to think about it
yet.”

“No worries. I’ll stop back later,” he said
with a smile. “Have a good day.” He saluted her with his latte and
left.

Noah appeared ten minutes after they’d opened
the doors, as promised, and Marissa retreated to the kitchen.
“What’s left to do?” she asked Angela, who slumped on a stool.

“Any ideas for treat of the day?”

Marissa smiled. “I’m thinking chocolate.
Maybe something nutty.”

Angela held up a finger. “Chocolate shells,
hazelnut filling – no, pecan filling. It’s Christmas after
all.”

“Want some help?”

Angela waved a hand through the air. “Nah.
I’ve got it. Go help the kids with the mob. I don’t know what
brought them, but the extra business will make a nice Christmas
bonus.” She hopped off the stool and headed to the cooler to gather
her ingredients.

The pastry trays emptied quickly. Marissa
pulled one out of the display case, but was stopped when Mrs.
Prinzel, her mother’s neighbor, signaled her.

Mrs. Prinzel’s hair was an unnatural jet
black. Most other days, her hair was peppered with gray. “Good
morning, Mrs. Prinzel. I like what you’ve done with your hair.”

“Marissa! Those cupcakes you made yesterday
were out of this world! I can’t tell you how much Mr. Prinzel and I
enjoyed them.” She raised her eyebrows. “I mean
really
enjoyed them.”

“I’m so glad,” Marissa replied. “They did
seem pretty popular.”

“Will you be making more today?”

Marissa fought the reflex to roll her eyes.
Mrs. Prinzel couldn’t know they’d been baking all night. “Today’s
treat is pecan pie in a chocolate shell.”

Mrs. Prinzel put a hand to her mouth. “Oh,
that sounds scrumptious. I’ll have to stop back in later.”

As she walked away, she heard another woman
tell Mrs. Prinzel about the decadent cupcakes and the two women
shared a giggle. Marissa was gratified to hear the compliment.

Customers continued to crowd the café until
ten o’clock. Becky and Noah and Max needed their breaks. Marissa
and Angela manned the counter prior to the changeover to the lunch
menu.

“Did you guys put ecstasy in the batter
yesterday, or what?” Becky asked. “And if one more man calls me
Helga, I’m going to slug him.”

Angela poured herself another cup of coffee.
“No attacking the customers.”

“It’s the braids.” Noah tucked a finger
beneath one of the braids and flipped it. “All the cougars have
been batting their eyelashes at me, too.” He turned to Marissa.
“You need to give us a heads-up if you’re going to enhance your
recipes.”

“Same stuff we always make.” Marissa stifled
a yawn. “No enhancements.”

“She’s always had the knack,” Max said.

“We’re that good,” Angela said. “And just
hitting our stride. We could franchise our little café nationally.
What do you think? A
Mangela
café in every major city.”

Marissa rolled her eyes. “Let’s keep the café
a Cooper Village ‘must see’ spot for now, eh?”

“Where’s your ambition?” Angela teased.
“Don’t you want to break out of this little burg?”

“I want to go to bed.” Marissa yawned again.
She wiped her hands on her pants and heaved a sigh. “Please tell me
nobody noticed that I haven’t changed my clothes since
yesterday.”

Max laughed. “Who’s going to pay
attention?”

“I have to change.” And then she remembered
Uncle Balt. If she left now, she’d still have time to stop by the
hospital and return before the lunch rush.

“I can’t believe how much we did in sales
this morning,” Angela said. “Does your new boyfriend have anything
to do with it, do you think?”

“New boyfriend?” Becky echoed.

“Yeah, what’s up with you and Wolf Harper?”
Noah asked.

Marissa sat upright. “You know Wolf
Harper?”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t
everybody?”

“Obviously not,” Marissa replied. “How do you
know him?”

Noah nodded. “Oh, that’s right. You guys went
to high school at Blue Lake East. Wolf went to Blue Lake West, like
me.”

“Are you dating him?” Max asked.

“No,” Marissa extended the vowel longer than
she’d expected. “How do
you
know him?”

“The guy was a baseball legend,” Max
said.

“So how come Angela thinks he’s your new
boyfriend?” Becky asked.

“She invited him to Christmas,” Angela told
them. “After he scratched her brand new car. He came in here all
googly-eyed.”

Marissa pushed Angela’s shoulder. “He did
not.”

“He gave her one of his grandmother’s show
cats,” Max told them.

“Technically, he gave Hex to Uncle Balt.”

“No technically. He gave the cat to you.”
Angela stuck out her tongue. “And suddenly he’s a regular
customer.”

“He stopped by once to make sure I was okay,”
Marissa argued.

“Twice. Once was the day before.”

“He was meeting someone. Why are we talking
about this instead of getting ready for lunch?”

Noah leaned across the table toward Marissa.
“He hangs out with the model types, you know? He was kinda messed
up when his parents died and living in that creepy old house didn’t
help his demeanor. He’s a little different, if you know what I
mean. They say his grandfather died in the loony bin.”

Marissa crossed her arms. “So tell me again
how you know Wolf Harper?”

“I went to grade school with his little
sister, before the accident. Everybody knew who Wolf was. He was on
the high school baseball team. Hottest fast ball in the state.”
Noah shook his head. “After the accident, he quit the team. In
fact, he kinda quit life. People didn’t see much of him after
that.”

“What accident?” Marissa asked.

“That’s because he graduated and went away to
school.” Becky said. “Mystery solved. And so what if he hangs out
with the model types. Maybe he’s finally come to his senses and
wants to date a real woman, not a plastic imitation.”

Noah ignored Becky’s easy explanation. He ran
a hand through his thick, brown hair. “Car wreck. Killed his
parents and his sister.” He raised an eyebrow. “Some people say
they were run off the road, that it wasn’t an accident.”

Some people?
“Gossip, in other words?”
Marissa asked. And yet, as the words left her, she envisioned the
car, an old Buick, swerving to avoid another car on the road. She
stiffened. Noah was right. Gooseflesh prickled her skin and an odd
cramp tightened in her belly.

Uncle Balt’s skin was translucent. How had
Marissa missed the signs? Of course he was sick! An IV fed into his
arm and a tube of oxygen filtered into his nose. He was a far cry
from the robust grandfather figure who had walked beside her for
most of her life.

“
Liebling
,” he rasped.

“I asked you,” she replied. “Why didn’t you
tell me how sick you were?”

“I expect you will know better than I do,” he
answered.

“I’m not a doctor.”

“You are a
Kundigerin
.”

“And I
know
things. You told me that
already.” And yet, as she took his hand and sat beside his bed, she
did know. Inherently. “You’re not done yet,” she told him.

He smiled. “Good to hear. What else do you
‘know’?”

Marissa rolled her eyes. The Drosselmeyer
fascination was gone. She was no longer afraid of Uncle Balt’s
secrets. She closed her eyes while she bent forward to ease the
cramps.

“Have you told anyone?” he asked, suddenly
more alert.

Marissa shook her head.

“But you’ve seen something.”

She shrugged.

He glanced around the room and wheezed a deep
breath. “There is a side-effect, which is likely what you’re
feeling. The pain grows much worse when you use your gift
intentionally. Sometimes the
knowing
comes upon you, and
then the pain is less, but if you speak of your gift to anyone who
doesn’t share it, the pain will be unbearable. And the doctors?” he
shook his head. “They have no idea what causes it.”

“Then you’ve seen the things—you
know
?”

Uncle Balt shook his head. “The men, we are
the keepers of the secret. The women, they are the ones who use the
knowledge.”

Marissa tilted her head backward. “I don’t
understand. Not feeling like the fountain of wisdom here.” She took
a deep breath and the cramps eased. “If you are the secret keeper,
shouldn’t you have had the daughter?”

He extended a hand to her. Marissa
intertwined her fingers, conscious not to interfere with the
IV.

“Marriage, children, it isn’t in the cards
for all of us. I don’t know how the lineage passes, I only know
that the gift presents itself by the color of your hair.”

“So all redheads are
Kundigerins
?” She
couldn’t keep the sarcastic tone from her voice. The whole concept
was absurd.