Scrapbooking the Supernatural: Midlife Magic in Marshmallow Book Two by Blackwood Keira & Blackwood Keira

Author:Blackwood, Keira & Blackwood, Keira
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Paramour Press
Published: 2021-03-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

With a stretch and a yawn, I ambled out of bed. My mind raced with dreams and ideas, and my aching body reminded me that I was awake. Maybe that was the key takeaway from my recent adventures—dreams were better than reality.

I jotted relatively coherent notes into my dream journal, then showered, dressed, and made my way downstairs.

It was still dark out, and would be until around seven. That was one of the best parts of this time of year. Sure, short days sucked when you wanted to spend time outside in the evening and it felt like midnight. But short days were awesome when you wanted to spend all of your time sleeping.

Was that a problem? That I wanted to sleep all the time instead of being awake?

My body said yes—move around or you’ll get bed sores. My brain said nah, sleep’s cool.

Downstairs, I was pleasantly surprised to find that Evan hadn’t beaten me to the kitchen for the second morning in a row. I grabbed some vegan sausages from the fridge, along with some eggs and english muffins, and set to work on breakfast.

A few minutes later, Evan jogged down the stairs.

“Morning,” he said with a hand on my shoulder as he brushed past me to the fridge.

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Fine.” He poured himself a glass of orange juice and leaned on the counter. “You’re...something this morning.”

“Should I be insulted or do you mean that as a compliment?”

He narrowed his eyes. “It’s not bad. You look happy. It suits you.”

“Ha.”

“It’s the boyfriend, isn’t it? The LARP one?”

“There’s no boyfriend,” I told him, again.

“Sure.” He grinned, kissed my cheek, and grabbed a warm english muffin from the toaster before heading toward the door.

“Wait.”

He stopped and turned.

I carefully stacked an egg, a slice of cheese, and the best sausage veggies could make together on my spatula. Then I crept toward Evan, balancing the stack carefully.

“This is fine,” he said, waving his english muffin at me.

“Nope,” I told him. “You can at least make it a sandwich. Protein is important.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he said in a flat tone. He held out his open muffin and accepted the food that I wasn’t going to let him leave without. Then he said goodbye and headed off to school.

I lost myself in cleaning and then scrapbooking for a few hours, and before I knew it, it was time to get ready and go to lunch. With a slather of lipstick and mascara—fancy—I met Jerry at Robertini’s.

He was waiting for me in our usual booth. When I slid in across from him, we did air kisses, and he passed me a menu.

“Looking fabulous,” he told me.

“It’s a wonder what a little sleep can do for a girl.”

His brows rose and he opened his mouth, likely to snap a witty reply, but my phone buzzed in my pocket. He froze. “Go ahead.”

“Sorry,” I told him, and squeezed his hand.

Whoever it was, I’d just call back. Still, the mom in me made me check. You never knew when your kid could be sick and need you to pick him up from school.

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