ASTRID

Chapter 5 Witch's Circles

"I told her to add three tea spoons of a potion to her tea, but what do you think she did? She infused almost the whole bottle! Now her daughter has two pretty little mushrooms on her forehead."

"You don't say so!" and yet grandma doesn't seem surprised to hear of unexpected mushrooms' emersion. "It's a very interesting by-effect. What sort of a mushroom it is?" she's stirring her coffee with a silver spoon.

Astrid shrugs her shoulders, "I didn't mention, for having seen Flora's sudden gift, she starts running all over the house like crazy and screaming something about her "lost beauty" and "wasted youth". Now she has both: mushrooms and pimples," says the young woman, drenching a fresh croissant in her coffee.

When my sister and I appeared in the living room, the table was crammed with my favorite morning food. Astrid knows we love it so much. But when did she make it? The dinosaur fridge was almost empty, and I was arguing with Billy upstairs not so long to have enough time to prepare a fancy cafe breakfast: fresh orange juice cold and brightly looking in a transparent jug with moist condensate on its "belly"; chocolate and classic croissants, Dresden Apfelkuchen, éclairs with green, lilac, pink, and yellow icing, and other little cakes and pastry of different shapes and forms I don't know the names of; four big bowls groaning with ripe fruits, berries, and my favorite nuts; and, of course, bacon, fried and boiled eggs, crispy garlic toasts, various sandwiches (I knew they have some!), linden flower honey, some blueberry and forest strawberry jam, fragrant coffee, and two types of tea for those who want something more substantial.

Maybe just for a second it is like good old times, until Billy sits with her leg under her buns, leans her smartphone up against a coffeepot, starts watching some show with subs and munching cherries. Like a zombie she's randomly feeling any fruit and putting it mechanically into her mouth without watching at them. I think, if anyone puts something inedible in the bowl, she'll probably swallow having no idea what she is doing. Her reflection in the pear-formed coffeepot looks wavy and weird.

"I have to do the potion again," Astrid sighs, "...and an antidote for her mushroom situation. I think we are lack of calendula extract and little leaf linden flowers."

"We might have some in the attic. I'll have a look later. You can also add dry rosemary in the cauldron as well," advises grandma.

I am listening to them with my mouth open forgetting to eat. I've never heard them discussing of this matter. I turn to Billy, but she has already been lost for our morning company.

"What are you watching, dear?" inquires grandma to distract her granddaughter from the smartphone.

At home this kind of simple question might give birth to a thunderstorm. Mom would force her to eat without using any gadgets; Billy, in turn, would accuse her of checking her tablet and texting her coworkers during the breakfast. Mom would be furious explaining the importance of her work and "the visual confirmation" of Billy's "ingratitude and infancy" and Billy would...and so on and so forth, until it turns into Billy's crying face or Mom's door slamming.

I am a little bit tense expecting a verbal fight, and fear for grandma, for my elder sister is a tough nut to crack and an experienced war of wards warrior; but Billy raises her green eyes and speaks at last, dazzling us with her smile I know all too well. Which is exactly that smile she gives to deceive James and Denis: Billy's universal trap for grandparents. What kind of game is she playing?

My sister, all charm and sweetness, is moving her chair closer to grandma and introducing her to the show, and patiently explains the details, and laughs like a silver bell pointing at the most funny moment in the scene:

"« I didn't believe you! » Isn't it hilarious, granny?" Billy is repeating the main actor's line as if it's the funniest joke ever. She is obviously faking her interest in the conversation, but I can't prove it. When I lost my patience, I once tried to tell about it to Mom's parents, but they blamed me for being a mean and jealous girl.