lives on Main?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah, told you she was close to your place.” Ana turned left into the driveway of a home similar to mine, but the angles of the roof were different. It was also missing the porch that I had come to love on 408. She parked near the side door and cut the engine. The sign hanging from a weathered shingle read, “The Crimson Moon – Herbs and Essence.”
“Come on, I will introduce you to the only Gypsy around,” she said, hopping out of the car.
I quickly followed. “Gypsy?” I asked. Ana nodded as she opened the back door to the home for me and I stepped through, but stopped cold when I saw the massive black dog lying in the middle of the floor. “Uh, there seems to be a bear on the floor,” I said, my voice staccato.
Ana pushed past me. “Huh. I’m surprised he’s here,” she said, looking at the enormous canine with an eyebrow raised. “Anyway, this is just Marsh. He looks intimidating, but he’s harmless.” She leaned down and patted the massive dog on the head. “Looking a little chub there, eh Marsh?”
I could have sworn I heard the dog breathe out a low growl, but reminded myself that a dog can’t understand a putdown when he hears one.
“He is huge. What is he?” I asked, amazed at the animal’s mammoth size. Without a doubt, he would tower over my head if he reared up.
“Dalca says he’s a cross between ancient Romanian breeds. I think he’s just a cross between mutts.”
“I think he’s a cross between a horse and lion,” I muttered, but Ana was already wandering through to the next room. I stepped gingerly around Marsh and followed Ana into the front where the store was located.
The area took my breath away.
It was as if I had stepped into an enchanted forest. The high ceilings were painted dark purple and strewn with little white twinkle lights. Suspended from the ceiling were long, knotty branches draped in dried flowers, crystals, woven dream catchers and delicate paper butterflies. Heavy drapes hung low on the windows, enabling the room to stay dark even at midday.
As I took in the fairy-tale lair, I heard the shuffling of something heavy. From around the corner came a dark-haired woman, pushing a large cardboard box.
“Oh hey, let me help ya,” said Ana, hurrying over to help the woman lift the box onto the desk.
“It is so good to see you Ana!” the woman declared as they hugged, her ebony hair gathered in a long braid down her back. She was in her 60s from what I guessed, but fit. She wore a brightly colored blouse and soft, pleated skirt that dusted the floor. Her long, elegant neck was hung with at least 20 necklaces, the longest of which dangled past her breasts with a small vial of something gray.
“So, I wanted you to meet Eila Walker. She just moved here and is living in her family’s place on Main. Eila, this is Dalca Anescu,” said Ana gesturing to me.
“Pleasure to meet you, Eila,” said Dalca, extending a hand adorned with a wild assortment of rings.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand as I glanced around the room “This place is awesome. It smells fabulous too!”
Dalca laughed, “Why thanks. You girls hungry? I just made scones and ground some coffee.”
Ana looked at me, “Can we? Or do you need to get back?”
“No, we can stay. I would love whatever you are making,” I said to Dalca. I was starving after passing on my squishwich.
“Excellent. Give me a few minutes to get things together. Feel free to look around.” Dalca swooped into the next room with Marsh following her.
I walked along the shelves admiring an endless row of beautiful bottles, all in different, radiant colors. I glanced over my shoulder at Ana on the other side of the room. She was next to a wall of literature. The Hound of the Baskervilles stood out in a red binding and Ana pulled it from the shelf, flipping through the well-worn pages.
I turned back to the bottles and selected a lavender
“Yeah, told you she was close to your place.” Ana turned left into the driveway of a home similar to mine, but the angles of the roof were different. It was also missing the porch that I had come to love on 408. She parked near the side door and cut the engine. The sign hanging from a weathered shingle read, “The Crimson Moon – Herbs and Essence.”
“Come on, I will introduce you to the only Gypsy around,” she said, hopping out of the car.
I quickly followed. “Gypsy?” I asked. Ana nodded as she opened the back door to the home for me and I stepped through, but stopped cold when I saw the massive black dog lying in the middle of the floor. “Uh, there seems to be a bear on the floor,” I said, my voice staccato.
Ana pushed past me. “Huh. I’m surprised he’s here,” she said, looking at the enormous canine with an eyebrow raised. “Anyway, this is just Marsh. He looks intimidating, but he’s harmless.” She leaned down and patted the massive dog on the head. “Looking a little chub there, eh Marsh?”
I could have sworn I heard the dog breathe out a low growl, but reminded myself that a dog can’t understand a putdown when he hears one.
“He is huge. What is he?” I asked, amazed at the animal’s mammoth size. Without a doubt, he would tower over my head if he reared up.
“Dalca says he’s a cross between ancient Romanian breeds. I think he’s just a cross between mutts.”
“I think he’s a cross between a horse and lion,” I muttered, but Ana was already wandering through to the next room. I stepped gingerly around Marsh and followed Ana into the front where the store was located.
The area took my breath away.
It was as if I had stepped into an enchanted forest. The high ceilings were painted dark purple and strewn with little white twinkle lights. Suspended from the ceiling were long, knotty branches draped in dried flowers, crystals, woven dream catchers and delicate paper butterflies. Heavy drapes hung low on the windows, enabling the room to stay dark even at midday.
As I took in the fairy-tale lair, I heard the shuffling of something heavy. From around the corner came a dark-haired woman, pushing a large cardboard box.
“Oh hey, let me help ya,” said Ana, hurrying over to help the woman lift the box onto the desk.
“It is so good to see you Ana!” the woman declared as they hugged, her ebony hair gathered in a long braid down her back. She was in her 60s from what I guessed, but fit. She wore a brightly colored blouse and soft, pleated skirt that dusted the floor. Her long, elegant neck was hung with at least 20 necklaces, the longest of which dangled past her breasts with a small vial of something gray.
“So, I wanted you to meet Eila Walker. She just moved here and is living in her family’s place on Main. Eila, this is Dalca Anescu,” said Ana gesturing to me.
“Pleasure to meet you, Eila,” said Dalca, extending a hand adorned with a wild assortment of rings.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand as I glanced around the room “This place is awesome. It smells fabulous too!”
Dalca laughed, “Why thanks. You girls hungry? I just made scones and ground some coffee.”
Ana looked at me, “Can we? Or do you need to get back?”
“No, we can stay. I would love whatever you are making,” I said to Dalca. I was starving after passing on my squishwich.
“Excellent. Give me a few minutes to get things together. Feel free to look around.” Dalca swooped into the next room with Marsh following her.
I walked along the shelves admiring an endless row of beautiful bottles, all in different, radiant colors. I glanced over my shoulder at Ana on the other side of the room. She was next to a wall of literature. The Hound of the Baskervilles stood out in a red binding and Ana pulled it from the shelf, flipping through the well-worn pages.
I turned back to the bottles and selected a lavender
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