Of Ginger & Spice

HM2V: Chocolate & Peppermint

4: HM2V: Chocolate & Peppermint

9:10 am, Saturday, She-Shed, Vera Manor Garden

"Damn, Harry," Macy's tousled curls made contact with Harry's sideburns as she kissed him, sensuously ensconced in her afterglow, as the sequencing machine continued its steady machinations. Besides the ever-present sequencer, solid desk, and all-too-familiar rusted-through windows (which made it impossible for anyone to see inside, thank goodness), Macy's she-shed had been expanded in the past year to include a new second floor that contained hard copies of client files, a small meeting space (for one-on-one chats), and a camper-style cot (for Maya to take a nap, or for Macy and Harry to use, which of course, they certainly did).

The most notable addition, however, was the second floor's portal, which could take oneself to different places, assuming the correct amulet was on hand. This portal was still in its development phase; the ability to transport was present, but the preciseness was a bit unreliable at times. If a person tried to portal through with the plan to enter Vera Manor's kitchen, they could end up 1. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, 2. Seated in the middle of the kitchen, or 3. Seated on the kitchen table that was already laden with brunch-style scrambled eggs, vegan buckwheat waffles, and piping hot coffee (much to Maggie Vera's extreme annoyance—whoops). Macy remembered having to write a check for the itemized damages and knew if she and Harry were to test the portal again, it would have to be under carefully controlled circumstances with a minimal chance of failure.

10 am, Sunday, One Week Later, Vera Manor, Kitchen

Harry popped into the Vera Manor kitchen, wearing a casual shirt and blue plaid "dad-shorts." He heard footsteps coming from the direction of the staircase. "Ah, Jordan. Ready to go?" Jordan nodded having donned an equally inconspicuous shirt and jeans, list in hand, as he grasped Harry's arm.

10:01 am, Behind Organic Grocery Store

"Where are we?" Jordan asked, slightly dazed; he knew it would take several more orbing sessions before he could accustom himself to this unusual method of transport that gave him the odd sensation of being simultaneously yanked by his navel and swung around a thrashing hurricane.

"Behind the organic grocery store—we Whitelighters prefer an unobtrusive entrance, if you know what I mean," Harry responded, as he straightened the wrinkles on his shorts, then casually strolled around the corner to the main entrance. Jordan followed closely behind, glancing around themselves to ensure they weren't being followed.

10:10 am, Dessert section, Organic Grocery Store

"What's on the list again?" Harry inquired, turning to Jordan. Jordan pulled out the list, reading aloud: "dark chocolate, Aztec-style dark chocolate cocoa slabs for hot cocoa, (2) peppermint tea, tampons (Maggie), winged super-comfort sanitary napkins (Macy), sugar free coconut milk ice cream (2)—chocolate-flavored and brownie cookie dough-flavored), and—" Jordan glanced at the bottom of the hastily-scrawled list.

"And?" Harry prompted him impatiently.

"Meat—any variety welcome," Jordan showed Harry the list. "There's a footnote down below stating to not bother bringing home any vegetables except for French fries."

Harry frowned, his brow furrowed. "French fries aren't vegetables. I should orb back and tell them—"

Jordan shot him a piercing look. "Dude. Do you want to be right, or do you wanna be alive?"

"Excellent point, Jordan." Harry ceased and desisted, as they divvied up the items, hunting throughout the store's sections for their wares. Shopping for their respective significant others during their synchronous premenstrual cycles was not something Harry thought he'd encounter when he first began his new life as a Whitelighter, but adding this to his to-do list made him feel just a bit more domesticated, which he didn't mind in the slightest. "This is my life now," he mumbled to no one in particular, plucking the Aztec dark chocolate cocoa slabs off of a nearby shelf, plunking it in his basket of accumulated items.

10:40 am, Vera Manor, Kitchen

Jordan and Harry landed in the kitchen with a pop, grocery bags in hand. They sorted out the items in two separate piles; Jordan placed the items meant for Maggie in one bag, Harry placed Macy's items in a different bag, and they parted ways.

10:45 pm/5:45 pm Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23

Harry landed neatly in the living room of the Azores condo, and carefully laid out Macy's sanitary napkins, Aztec hot chocolate, peppermint tea, and brownie cookie dough coconut ice cream. "Love, I brought you the items you asked for!" he called. After hearing no answer, he ventured around. "Macy?" he shouted, a little louder this time.

"In here," a voice whispered. Recognizing the voice and where it was coming from, he pushed the bedroom door open and found Macy half-asleep on the king-sized bed, a hot water bottle heating pad situated on her abdomen.

"Macy, what—"

"Shhhhh!" she whispered, pointing at a cherubic Maya, sleeping in her toddler bed just mere feet away. "I've finally convinced her to take a nap."

"But how?"

Macy cheekily smiled. "I put on some music and told her we were watching "Eyelids." A very grown-up movie for big girls, where they close their eyes," she whispered as he tip-toed toward the bed and kissed Macy noiselessly. "I think it worked!" She surveyed Harry's visage, his well-toned arms, his biceps..."How was your shopping trip with Jordan?"

"It went off without a hitch," he replied, amused at Macy's well-intentioned trickery. "Several more orbings in, and he could fancy himself a Whitelighter with those self-defense skills he has, on top of everything else."

"Impressive, Harry, very impressive," Macy murmured, and Harry had the distinct feeling they weren't talking about his tutelage skills. "I wish I could say the same," she wistfully stated, motioning to Maya.

"However do you mean?" Harry was puzzled. Their daughter was sound asleep, and nothing seemed visibly amiss.

"Maya's hit her "three-nager" phase," Macy answered ruefully. "As in rebellious teenage years, but at age 3. She's trying to assert her independence, and she's being very stubborn about it. This afternoon after you'd left, she refused to eat her lunch, then when she did, she refused to eat anything that started with the letter "B."—"

"Which, of course, is a pity given that I just purchased a half-dozen bananas and a quart container of fresh blueberries from Faial Market at the crack of dawn, not to mention the beef burritos for tonight—" Harry began catching on. "Oh dear, will I have to return all of the produce?" Harry began to panic.

"No," Macy laughed softly, then winced. "Ow...cramps...time of the month," she said, pressing the heating pad further into her lower stomach to ward off the pain. "I'm fine," she added hastily to Harry, who she suspected still wasn't fully used to seeing her in this type of voluntary monthly cyclical discomfort. "There's nothing you can do as a Whitelighter to fix this, Harry, believe me." She moved to the right as Harry removed his shoes and sat next to her on the bed.

"As for Maya's food preferences, we just need to relabel them—bananas to star fruit (stars and bananas are both yellow), blueberries to jam-berries, beef burritos to spicy tortilla-wiches," Macy said, her heating pad still clutched to her abdomen. She replied hastily to Harry's questioning look. "It's only temporary, I swear. I know we're not supposed to coddle her, Harry, but I've got no fight left in me this week; I can't concentrate right now, I'm in pain, and I feel like utter crap—"

Harry put his finger gently on Macy's lips, momentarily silencing her. "It's ok." He turned her gently to face the opposite wall, massaging the kinks out of her tense shoulders, and she uttered a long, deep exhalation of welcome relief. "I love you, Macy," Harry whispered.

"I love you too, Harry," Macy responded, turning around to kiss his forehead ever-so-gently.