Opal Fire Read Free Page B

hook.
    Thor ducked behind my legs.
    “This is what I get, hah? I have to hear ‘bout a fire on the radio? Not from my daughter. My flesh and blood. I raised you better!” She lifted her other hand and realized she was still holding a spatula. She calculated if that would border on abuse, then tried to swing it anyway before Tony caught the interception.
    “Mama, Angelica, please. Cinnamon has been through enough,” he said. He wasn’t as tall as her, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in charm and personality.
    Angelica flashed Tony a look of betrayal, then softened. “Oh my baby!” She pulled Cinnamon to her huge chest and sobbed. Cin flailed her arms.
    “Mama, stop.”
    “Hi, Auntie,” I said, hoping to deflect some of the heat from Cin.
    Angelica faced me, still wearing her bakery apron smeared with frosting and sprinkles, her dark hair streaked with flour. Thor snaked around and stole a lick from the spatula Tony was holding. I said a little prayer for her not to notice.
    “Oh, Stacy, my beautiful niece.” She pulled me in for a bear hug, then stood back and said, “What’s wrong with you, hah? That one,” she pointed to Cin, “that one I know is trouble. But you a good girl. You should call when things happen, hah?”
    I nodded. “But the bakery is only a block away.”
    Angelica leaned forward and waved her finger. “You getting smart?”
    I shook my head. “No.”
    “You come for dinner tomorrow, hah?” she said.
    “I will.”
    In the distance, I spotted three women who seemed to claim the street as their own, walking in tandem. Confidence radiated from them like the brilliant colors of the bright capes they wore. One red, one yellow, one green. The Geraghty Girls.
    Shit.
    I whirled around to Cinnamon. “What are they doing here dressed like that?”
    “Don’t you remember what day it is?” Cin whispered.
    I flipped through my mental calendar and drew a blank. “Thursday.”
    Cin rolled her eyes at me. “Imbolc.”
    Double shit. I slapped my forehead. In all the excitement, the holiday slipped away from me.
    The pagan calendar consists of eight major celebrations. Imbolc occurs between the Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox. It’s one of the three Celtic feasts of fire and in Ireland it is known as Brighid’s Day.
    In Amethyst, that translates to Birdie’s Day.
    “What, they figured there’s already a fire, so let’s have the ceremony here?”
    “Hey, you try telling them what they can and cannot do,” said Cinnamon.
    The crowd was thinning out, giving Birdie and the aunts space.
    “Stacy, I have to go find my insurance papers and give my agent a call. I’m sure he’ll want to assess the damage right away. Maybe it isn’t so bad,” she said, but her face showed that she thought it was bad. “I’ll call you when I’m done, okay?” She kissed me on the cheek and she, Tony, and aunt Angelica headed in the opposite direction, towards the bakery.
    “Okay,” I said. But what I meant was, thanks for feeding me to the wolves.
    As I watched the Geraghty Girls approach, Gus draped a blanket over me and said, “Hey, Stacy, no kidding, you need to come with me.”
    “Not now, Gus,” I hissed.
    They drifted closer. Streetlamps shined on each strand of red hair that poked through their hoods, the smoke creating a billowy backdrop. I felt like I was about to become the first victim in a Wes Craven film.
    “Cripes, Stacy, please. He gets real mad when I don’t follow orders. Cinnamon already gave her account.” He said that like it would prompt me to follow suit.
    “Gus, I have no idea what happened. I was behind the bar one minute, setting up for Cin, and the next thing I knew, smoke filtered up through the back stairs and the beams were on fire. That’s all I got. Type it up.”
    I watched as Birdie paused to whisper into a fireman’s ear. He was taking a load off on the side of the truck. He bounced up immediately and started to roll the hose that lay across their