Smash is…well, a smash hit!

Brilliant. That is the one word I can use to describe the newest musical drama Smash on NBC. Simply brilliant.

I took the time last night to watch the first episode of Smash using my “On Demand” feature on the DVR. I had no desire to watch it, even though I should have. The advertisements just weren’t luring me in. I, quite frankly, chose to watch it because I was cleaning and needed something on in the background. Once it started, I was slowly & seductively drawn in.

Now, before I go into details, you are probably wondering what this has to do with our theme on BoudoirBomshells.com …right? I’m getting there, trust me.

The Broadway show that Julia (Debra Messing) creates is based on the life of Marilyn Monroe. Once this was brought up, I was very skeptical and thought that the show was just trying to pull in viewers because everything lately has been Marilyn centered. Debra Messing’s character kept me watching because of one quote. As her character was arguing with her husband about wanting to be creatively involved in the production of the show, she said “You know what she [Marilyn] said in her last interview? ‘Please don’t make a joke out of me.’ There was something about her…how much she wanted to love and be loved.” Yes, that was the moment I stopped kind of paying attention and devoted all my focus to the program.

The songs are genius. The baseball song entitled “The National Pastime” is cute and the choreography is visually stunning. “Never Give All the Heart” is a beautiful ballad about Marilyn Monroe that is sung by the vocally breathtaking Ivy Lynn (played by Megan Hilty). Let’s not forget the modern songs though that are thrown into the mix. Karen Cartwright (Katharine McPhee) belts out a mind-blowing version of Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful” in the first episode.

I cannot wait for the next episode of Smash to watch these two lovely ladies (Ivy & Karen) compete against each other for the lead role as Marilyn in the new Broadway production. This show is a “home run” and I recommend anyone who is in the least bit infatuated with Marilyn Monroe tune in!

Review By: Mary & Pepper Mint * The Mint Chocolate Chippies
www.mintchocolatechippies.com

A new classic holiday record that sounds like a classic Rat Pack Christmas album?

Yes, Please!

Recently I purchased the Michael Bublé album appropriately titled Christmas.  I have been listening to it nonstop since Black Friday. (There is a strict rule in my house that we do not decorate, wrap presents, or start to celebrate the Christmas holiday until the previous one, Thanksgiving, has ended.)  The album is full of classic Christmas songs in the same nostalgic fashions of Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, and Frank Sinatra.  While there are a few new favorites, such as “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and Bublé’s original song “Cold December Night”, the record feels like coming home for the holidays.

I want to focus for a bit on the rendition of “Jingle Bells” on the album.  Mr. Bublé is accompanied by The Puppini Sisters on this song.  If you do not know these ladies, Google them right now!  Then go to iTunes and buy one of their albums.  While they have their own sound, I can’t help but feel like these women are The Andrews Sisters reincarnate.  This track is probably my favorite one on the whole album.  It is definitely worth the cost of the album, be it on amazon.com, iTunes, or if you actually have a record store still open in your town.

In conclusion, if you are as obsessed with an old fashion Christmas as we are, you’ll love Michael Bublé’s Christmas.  Listening to the male version of “Santa Baby” will put a smile on any girl’s face.  This record truly puts you in the spirit of the season!

Review By: Mary & Pepper Mint * The Mint Chocolate Chippies
www.mintchocolatechippies.com

For Parts 1 and 2 of “When Johnny Comes Home” Click here!

Lucy was frightened. She wasn’t frightened of what the gypsy said or did, but of what she herself had done. She was frightened of the Black Lotus too. I am a fool. The problem was even though Lucy was frightened of it, she was grateful to the candle as well.

Not even in death will you escape it. Lucy didn’t know what Madam Vadoma had meant by it; she was too terrified to try and figure it out. She lay in bed next to Johnny, who was sleeping deeply, and looked at the still burning, still un-melted candle on her window sill. It was once again the only light in the room. “Thank you.” The candle didn’t respond, but Lucy felt that it heard her. Maybe Johnny was right? Maybe she was crazy?

Johnny’s breath had been horrible during their lovemaking. Not wanting to hurt his feelings again, Lucy had done her best to ignore it. Tomorrow, she was going to gently suggest that he make an appointment for the dentist. With all the time spent on the battlefield, oral hygiene must not have been a priority.

Johnny screamed and flew out of the bed on to the floor. “The field, the front! God, it burns!” he shouted.

 
“Johnny! Johnny, wake up!” Lucy crawled off the bed and held him on the floor.
 
“I don’t want to die!” Johnny’s eyes were open, but he didn’t see her. He was wild, desperate and still caught in his dream.
 
“Johnny!” Lucy shook him hard. His eyes focused on her; the desperation slowly dissolved out of them as he recognized who she was and where they were.
 
“We’re on the floor.” His voice was groggy.
 
“You had another nightmare.” She ran her hand over and through his short hair in a way that she hoped was soothing. “Do you remember it at all?”
 
His confusion gave way to fear. “No, but I remember how I felt. I was scared.” He looked into her eyes. “War dreams, I guess.”
 
“What?”
 
“ A lot of the guys end up having bad dreams when they come home. They told us all about it to prepare us, I guess. I never really gave it much thought. I never remember my dreams.” He stood and pulled her up too. “I’m sorry, Honey. Was I really loud? I must have woke you. Did I say anything?”
 
“No,” she lied.
 
“Good,” he shuddered. “Sheesh, I got the heebee jeebies. Come on, let’s get back in bed and cuddle. I want to have you real close.”
 
“Sounds good to me.” They crawled into bed and pulled the sheets and comforter up. Johnny had not been kidding about being close. Any closer and he would have been on top of her. She loved having his arms around her. She loved him holding her so tight against him that their bodies were smashed together. She was happy.
 
Then she smelled his bad breath.
 
“Sweetheart, I need to roll on to my other side.” He loosened his hold just enough for her to flip to her side, then grabbed her from behind and pulled her tight to him once again.
 
“I need you close.” Lucy loved getting all this attention, but something felt wrong about it. Johnny was different somehow. He seemed frightened. She had heard that war changes men, but she never would have thought anything could frighten Johnny. He’d never had a nightmare before, or at least not that she knew of. He was a sound sleeper and hardly ever moved, let alone tossed and turned.
 
Johnny held her so tight against him that she could only take shallow breaths. Lucy started to feel trapped by his fear and was worried what all this might mean. Once he fell asleep and his grip loosened, Lucy was able to slide over so she could breathe. She fell asleep wondering what was wrong with Johnny.
 
 
When Lucy woke up the next afternoon, Johnny was gone. She rushed out of the bed in a panic until she heard the shower running, and him singing “You Were Meant for Me.” Good! He needs one. She giggled and started to pick up the bedroom. She assumed they would be having company over soon, tomorrow if not this evening – she couldn’t keep him a secret forever – and she needed to get the house clean.
 
Lucy acknowledged the still-burning Black Lotus and marveled how bright the afternoon sun was. Once again she and Johnny had almost spent the enire day in bed. She picked her red party dress from the floor and hung it on the closet door. She would have to take both it and the tuxedo to be properly cleaned.
 
Lucy went to gather up Johnny’s tuxedo when she noticed the smell. Sour and sweet at the same time, but mostly sour. Like rotting fruit. It was a bad smell. Lucy had smelled this before. It was the smell of a dead animal.
 
From time to time Lucy and Johnny had problems with mice in the house. The first sign was droppings. Then they would find boxes nibbled and garbage shredded. After they’d had enough, they would put out the traps. That’s when the smell came. You had to check the traps often to avoid it.
 
Lucy imagined some fat old mouse had found its way up to their room and died somewhere. It had happened before. We need a cat. Frustrated, she went back to the dirty laundry. She scooped up the rest of Johnny’s tuxedo, and a dead mouse head fell at her feet. Lucy yelped and jumped on the bed. “Oh god!”
 
“What is it?” Johnny ran into the room, wearing his bathrobe. His hair was still wet against his head.
 
“It’s dead!” Lucy knelt on the bed, shaking her hands as if she could shoo the head away.
 
Johnny came around the bed and looked at the disembodied rodent remains. “It sure is.” He looked horrified. “How did it get here?”
 
“I don’t know, but get it out.” She continued the shooing gesture.
 
“Was this part of your…spell?”
 
“What? No, yuck!” Lucy glared at him. “That’s so disgusting. How could you even think that?”
 
“I don’t know about these things,” he shrugged. “You’re the Gypsy Witch apprentice.”
 
“Don’t be vulgar.” Lucy looked down at the head; one of its eyes was gone. She tried to stop herself from retching. “Take it outside!”
 
Johnny picked it up. Fascinated, he held the head in his hand, examining it. “Whoa, it looks like it’s been chewed.”
 
Lucy felt faint. “God, Johnny! Get it out now!” She could not stand to see him hold it.
 
Johnny looked up from the head. The anger twisting his face shocked Lucy. His eyes focused on hers; they seemed to clear a bit. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” His odd anger gone, he smiled. “Sorry. I’ll wash my hands before I come back.” He left, holding the head far out in front of him, and went down the stairs.
 
Lucy rocked herself on the bed. She felt sick. She ran into the bathroom and scrubbed her hands until they were bright red. She’d never seen anything so gruesome in her life. Even the dead mice in the traps had never looked like that. Although, Johnny almost always cleaned the traps out for her, sparing her the grisly job of discarding the bodies. She was sure this was the worst thing she had ever seen. Except maybe that furious, ugly expression on Johnny’s face.
 
He was suddenly behind her. She jumped back and stubbed her big toe against the vanity. “Ow! You scared me!” She smacked his shoulder.
 
“I’m sorry. You alright?” He reached for her.
 
“Don’t touch me!” She almost fell into the tub to get away from him.
 
“What’s wrong?” He pulled back from her, confused and hurt.
 
“You haven’t washed you’re hands yet!”
 
“Oh, sorry.” Johnny looked sheepish. He turned to the sink. “I buried it.”
 
“Why?” She sat down on the toilet and examined her hurt toe.
 
“I didn’t know what else to do with it. I couldn’t very well just throw it in the garbage.” He used more soap. “Besides, it felt right to bury it.”
“Thank you for taking care of it. I don’t know what I would have done if I was by myself.” She tried to massage the stubbed toe, but it hurt to touch it.
“How’s your toe?” Johnny dried his hands and bent down to her foot to have a look. She stuck it out. “Can you move it?”
 
“Yes, but it hurts to do it.” Lucy grimaced as she wiggled it for him.
 
“At least it’s not broken.” Johnny reached out toward her. “May I?” She nodded, and he took her foot. He kissed the toe, never taking his eyes from hers. His kiss was feather soft; it made her gasp and tingle everywhere. “Pain diversion.” He smiled at her. She smirked down at him and stroked his cheek.
 
“You still need to shave.” Lucy clapped him on his shoulder. “I have an idea. If you get your razor ready for me, I’ll shave you.”
 
“Oh, yeah? You think your nerves can handle it?” He teased.
 
“Mine can if yours can,” she teased back.
 
He stood up and straightened his bathrobe. “That sounds like a challenge.” He opened his shaving case, pulled out the straight razor and put it on the vanity counter. Then he unfolded a large dark brown leather strop, and hooked its ornate golden clasp to the iron rod under the vanity mirror. He held the other end of the strop taught and firm, the muscles of his left arm straining against the strop. Then he took his razor and began stropping, as Lucy had seen him do many times before. Johnny ran the razor down and up the strop in long strokes, rotating the edge of the razor at the bottom and top of each stroke. His stropping started slow, but grew faster and faster until at last he was satisfied with razor’s sharpness. He laid the straight razor back on top of the vanity. “Ready when you are.”
 
She opened his shaving cream. The smell filled the small bathroom and brought with it warm memories. Lucy dipped the brush into the white cream and brushed a thin layer of it on his face. She picked up the sharpened razor and started on his right side. Lucy was just as nervous as the first time she had done this. She took it very slow and steady, and made sure not to press too hard.
 
Johnny stood still and watched her in the mirror, his smile in his eyes only. He only tilted his head when she indicated she by the gentle push of her finger. Lucy nudged his chin, and he tilted down. She worked on the mustache area under his nose. She tried to refrain from looking him in the eye, to avoid distracting herself.
 
Lucy had no idea if other wives did this for their husbands, but she pitied them if they didn’t. The trust they gave each other made the experience so intimate and powerful. It was an intimacy that Lucy felt could only be exceeded in one other place. She blushed, thinking about it.
 
All that was remained was his left side. Lucy went to it with more confidence than she had felt so far; perhaps even overconfidence. Maybe that was why she grew careless and cut his cheek so deeply.
 
She felt the razor slice in just below his left ear and froze, not believing what she had just done.
 
Johnny didn’t yell or howl in pain. Johnny didn’t grab the razor from her in anger. Johnny didn’t even notice.
What really terrified Lucy was that Johnny didn’t bleed.
 
She knew that the cut had been deep; she had felt the razor stick in his face, but there was no blood. It just looked as if she had sliced off a thin layer of apple off to find only more apple underneath.
 
“Something wrong?” he asked her reflection in the mirror.
 
Lucy didn’t know what to do. She knew that this was very wrong. Johnny should be bleeding. He should feel pain. Something told her that if she confronted him with this it would put them into horrible danger. So she lied. “Nothing. I thought I might have nicked you for a second.”
 
“Nope.” He smiled. The bloodless cut under his ear expanding as he did. “Hurry and finish, please. I have big plans for you, and I can’t wait much longer,” he teased.
 
Lucy felt as though she might be sick, but she nodded and continued to shave him. When she finished she wanted to run away, but as soon as she put the razor down, Johnny scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, closing the door with his foot behind them.
 
 

When Lucy was sure Johnny was asleep, she silently climbed out of the bed and dressed herself. She opened the door and crept out and down the stairs. She slipped on her heels that were by the front door and walked out into the early evening.
 
Her relief at getting out of the house was short-lived once she realized she had nowhere to go. In her desperation she ran to Madam Vadoma’s house across the street. She was the one person who would understand. Maybe she would know what to do?
 
Lucy knocked on the gypsy’s door. After a long while she heard the old woman moving inside the house. Madam Vadoma came to the door and spoke through it. “Who is there?”
 
“It’s Lucy. Can I come in?”
 
“No you cannot. I will not have you bring the mess you have made into my home as well.” Madam Vadoma’s voice was matter-of-fact and unemotional.
 
“Please! I need your help!” Lucy cried.
 
“I cannot give it, child. There is nothing I can do for you. You are lost to the spell you have cast.” Some small emotion slipped into her tone when she said, “I am sorry.”
 
“I’m sorry I took your candle. I’m sorry I added to the spell.” Lucy broke down. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with Johnny.”
 
“You lied to Madam Vadoma! You said your dream told you to bring him home.” The gypsy yelled through her closed door.
 
“No, it was the truth!” Lucy cried. “The dream told me that I was losing him. I knew that if I didn’t bring him home now, he would never come!”
 
“You lied to yourself then.” Madam Vadoma had opened her front door a small crack and was looking at Lucy, her eyes filled with pity. She sighed. “If you had only followed the spell, none of this would have mattered. It would have protected you from this. The Black Lotus does what it wants to whom it wants. It is a very untrustworthy power and too strong to have been used on a spell such as yours.” She sighed again. “I should have known you would take it; I saw it work its will on you.”
 
Lucy was trembling. She didn’t want to know anything more, but she had to. “What do you mean I lied to myself?”
 
“Your dream, it was not telling you to bring him home; it was telling you to say goodbye.”
 
“No…”
 
“Yes, child. Your Johnny was already dead. You have brought a dead man back to life and you have bound him to you until you lose yours. Perhaps, even after.” Lucy could not, would not believe her. “What you have done is unspeakable and cannot be undone. I cannot help you.” The gypsy shook her head and closed the door, leaving Lucy alone to face the night.
 
 
Lucy found herself standing back in front of her own house. She didn’t remember crossing the street, but there she stood all the same. I could leave! I could run away! Where would she go? She had no family and no real friends. Who would believe her anyway? She still might have turned into the night and taken her chances out in the world, if Johnny hadn’t started screaming in their bedroom. She ran into the house and up the stairs without a second thought.
 
She turned on the bedroom light to find Johnny writhing in pain on the floor. “I remember! I remember, the dream!” Lucy ran to him and knelt down beside him trying to once again soothe away his nightmare. His voice lowered, but his intensity did not.“I was bleeding. You were there! You were in the field. I heard you calling my name. I tried to crawl to you, but then you were gone.” Lucy remembered her own dream, and felt as cold as the fog that had surrounded her. “I died then I think.”
 
“Am I still me?” He looked up at her. She didn’t know how to answer that. “You are still you. You are the same. You are like the mice. It makes me hungry.” The mouse head! “After I eat them I feel more like me again. I forget, I think.”
 
“Johnny stop!” Lucy was crying. She didn’t want to hear it.
 
“I buried it. Dead things belong in the dirt.”
 
“Johnny, please…”
 
“I belong in the dirt.” His voice was so calm now, so sad.
 
“No…”
 
“Come with me.” He reached out and grabbed her shoulders. His eyes were intense and clear.
 
“What?” Lucy tried to back away, but he just gripped her tighter and held her still.
 
“I came back for you.” He stood and tried to pick her up. Lucy struggled to pull away, but he was stronger than she was and crushed her against him. “I want to have you real close.” Lucy tried to scream, but he covered her mouth with his. His foul, dead breath filling her lungs. NO!
 
He had her arms pinned against him. Lucy squirmed and kicked wildly. She landed a great kick to his knee. His reflex was activated, and the shifting of his weight while trying to keep her still was too much. He fell over with her on top of him. His grip loosened, and Lucy pulled away, scrambling across the floor until she could gain her footing. She ran for the bedroom door.
 
Johnny was up and running too fast behind her. “Lucy, please!” She ran through the door, but he grabbed her wrist, twisting it backward painfully. He tried to pull her back to him. He only succeeded in slamming the back of her head into the door frame. Her world darkened into a deep purple. When her vision cleared he was once again holding her too him and kissing her. “I need you. Stay with me!”
 
Both of Lucy’s arms were folded, pinned against his chest, her hands under his chin. She futilely smashed them against his face. She leaned and pushed back from him until her back hit the door frame. She was able to free herself enough to shove up as hard as she could, her palms slamming into his chin. She screamed, as her already-swollen wrist burst with a new fiery pain. It was what she needed though; his head rocked back and the shock to his body caused him to drop her.
 
He stumbled back toward the staircase, blocking her escape. She ran to the bathroom and slammed the door closed. She realized her panicked mistake immediately; she had trapped herself with no way out. “Lucy, come with me!” Desperate, Lucy shoved all her weight against the door and held the knob with her good wrist.
 
Johnny was at the bathroom door in an instant trying to push it open. She wouldn’t be able to hold it closed for long. She reached out to grab the straight razor, still on the vanity counter. Her broken wrist flopped uselessly and more liquid fire shot up her arm. She flew to the counter and grabed the razor.
The door burst open.
 
Lucy swung at Johnny wild and blind. The razor connected and dove itself deep into the left side his neck and stuck there like she had simply tried to chop a melon. Lucy stepped back in horror, her hands covering her mouth.
 
Johnny looked confused. He reached up to where the razor was lodged in his neck, and pulled it free with a grunt. The wound gaped open, but there was no blood. Fool! He looked at Lucy, his eyes sad. “I still love you, Luce. I still want you with me.” He came at her, and she jumped back and tripped into the tub slamming her head against the tile wall.
 
She saw nothing but deep, dark purple.
 
 

When Lucy opened her eyes, all she could see was stars. She was outside? She tried to turn her head to look around, but it hurt too much, and it made the stars purple and wavy. Purple waves. She would have giggled if not for the pain. Just then the stars jumped and moved. Or did she move? She couldn’t tell. Then it happened again. She was on the ground, and she was being dragged.
 
Fear helped her eyes to focus; adrenalin helped lift her head. Johnny was up above her, holding her feet and dragging her. He was wearing his tuxedo. She looked down at her body and saw her red party dress, disheveled and dirty. She also noticed a frayed rope had been tied around her. She tried to move, but the rope held firm and tightened the more she struggled.
 
Lucy was free falling. She landed with a crack, hitting the bottom of a large dirt hole. The wind knocked clean from her body and rendered her scream-less. It was hard to believe that she could feel even more pain, but it exploded from the middle of her back and flooded the rest of her senses.
 
Dirt was flung over her face and fell into her mouth. She spat it out, but more came in. She coughed and choked and tried to keep her mouth closed. Johnny was burying her. “I have it all figured out, Kiddo.” He sounded excited and kept up his shoveling, covering her feet and legs. “I’ll get you good and buried. Then I’ll lie down next to you, bury myself as much as I can, and just burrow down to where you are. It will take a while, but I think I can do it.” The dirt came faster now, the weight of it covering her chest, making it difficult to breathe. More covered her face. It filled her nostrils until she was forced to open her mouth to breathe. A larger pile of dirt forced its way into her mouth, and she had to swallow. It was impossible, and she started to choke. “Don’t worry! I won’t stop until I find you. We’ll be together, close together forever.” Her head almost completely covered, she couldn’t see anything as she choked on the dirt, but she could still hear. What she heard was her husband whistling “You Were Meant for Me,” as he shoveled more dirt atop her grave. Then she heard nothing.
 
 

Madam Vadoma stood in the Holloway house, looking at the Black Lotus candle, its flame tall and proud. “Enough mischief. Enough now.” She blew at it, and the flame died down, but still fought to hold the wick. She spat on it, and the flame died out. The gypsy stuffed the candle into her carpet bag and left the empty house alone to face the day.
 
 

The End

Christmas Pin-Ups

COST: $225

INCLUDES:
~one look (you bring the outfit, props and decor are provided)
~2 scenes to choose from (decorated fireplace and studio set scenes)
~hair and makeup by our fabulous Beauty Bombshell® Timarie!
~10-12 fully edited and finished images provided digitally within 2 weeks
~Boudoir Bombshells® goodie bag that includes themed goodies, coupons, and other fun stuff from our exclusive preferred vendors!
~light refreshments, holiday movies and music (if you would like to bring a treat to share please let us know)
We are excited to be bringing you our second holiday edition of pin-up photography fun! Our Halloween pin-ups were so popular that we decided to do another one for Christmas! This fun-filled pin-up photo party event will take place at Kristen’s home studio near Mt. Dora, FL and the address will be provided to those attending. A deposit of $75 is required to hold your spot in the lineup and the balance is due the day of your shoot. There are 6 slots for each day so spaces WILL GO FAST. A spot absolutely cannot be guaranteed unless you have provided your deposit. You can pay via check or paypal to kristen@khphotographics.com. You MUST bring your own outfit, but props, decor, and scenery ARE provided.
Kristen lives in a 1922 restored Victorian home that has a great stone-walled fireplace that will be decorated extensively and will be used for one of the scene options. The other scene option will be a simple studio backdrop with your choice of props for those who would like a more simple set. You price includes one outfit, which also means ONE set. If you would like to shoot in both sets it will be an additional $50. Please inquire if interested.

If you have any questions please email kristen@khphotographics.com.

NOTE: As always, this event is NOT for other photographers to attend, so please do not RSVP. This event is for CLIENTS ONLY

Boudoir Bombshells® is a registered trademark.

For Part 1 of “When Johnny Comes Home” Click here!

At eight o’clock in the morning Lucy phoned the dress shop and told the Greenstones she wasn’t feeling well and would not be in to work. Lucy felt guilt for lying to the sweet couple, which was made worse when Mrs. Greenstone herself showed up at the house at about two o’clock with chicken soup. Thank goodness Lucy looked the part and had no difficulty pretending to be ill. She’d taken her curlers out, but had only tied her hair back with Johnny’s ribbon, and she had no makeup on. She was wearing her most comfortable house dress, faded and worn, and what she usually wore on cleaning days. It was not something she would wear in front of anyone but Johnny. Johnny loved it when she put on her cleaning dress. He loved taking the dress off her even more.

Mrs. Greenstone took one look at Lucy, clucked her tongue and went straight into the kitchen to heat up the chicken soup. Lucy tried to offer some hospitality, but Mrs. Greenstone scooted her to sit down at the breakfast nook table. “I know my way around a kitchen.” She certainly did. The stove seemed to work for Mrs. Greenstone better than it did for Lucy, who hated cooking on it. Unless it’s for Johnny.Watching the short plump woman move through her kitchen with the grace of a Prima Ballerina gave Lucy the most joy she had felt in the last two days. “I hope I’m not hurting your feelings saying this, but I’m glad to find that you are truly under the weather.”

“What do you mean?” Guilt and that familiar “caught” feeling rushed through Lucy, threatening to redden her cheeks. She gripped the table’s leg under its cloth covering. She squeezed it, bracing for Mrs. Greenstone’s answer.

“I hate to say it, but we were all afraid you had heard bad news abo…from Johnny.” Though Mrs. Greenstone covered her slip-up quickly, Lucy still caught it. She felt mad enough to break the table leg off and throw it at the fat little woman. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure what kind of state I was going to find you in, Honey.” Mrs. Greenstone sat a hot bowl of soup in front of Lucy. Her eyes were so filled with honest concern that Lucy’s quick anger turned back into shame and guilt.  “May I sit with you for a while, or would you rather be alone?”

Lucy released the table leg and held her hands in her lap. She wanted to be alone, but wanted to put it as delicate as possible. “I would love the company, but I would worry over getting you sick too.” She hoped she looked sincere; she didn’t want to hurt Mrs. Greenstone’s feelings. She was her boss and, Lucy had to admit, a lovely woman. “Thank you so much for the soup, though. It’s exactly what I need.”

“Say no more.” Mrs. Greenstone smiled down at Lucy. She started to gather up the few things she’d brought with her. “I’ll tell everyone at the shop not to worry.” She motioned to the soup. “You go ahead and eat that while it’s hot. It should set you to rights, poor lamb. I made you plenty, if you feel like eating anything for dinner. Don’t worry about getting the serving bowl back to me anytime soon; there’s no hurry.” She had her coat on, and was almost out the front door. “Oh, and don’t worry about the shop. You are not to come to work tomorrow for certain. Call round the shop to let us know about the rest of the week, but you take as many days as you need. Mr. Greenstone will understand.” She blew Lucy a kiss and left.

Lucy sighed and sipped some soup. It was delicious; it was obviously made with care. She didn’t deserve it and couldn’t stomach eating more. She dumped the bowl out into the sink.

Lucy walked to and looked out the long window by the front door. The hot sun of July caused the world to look bright and vibrant. Lucy felt like it was all a lie she had no part in. With the war being fought, all the dying, and Johnny not home, the world was ugly and dark. The people in the world were awful and full of lies.

Lucy looked at her house coat, hanging where she left it when she got home this morning. “I guess I fit right in.” She went to the coat and removed the Black Lotus candle from its inside pocket. My candle. Her guilt from taking it dissolved as she held the powerful candle. She knew with complete certainty that it would bring Johnny home. She knew that she needed it. The candle had spoken to her soul. It made her a promise. If she lit it, Johnny would be hers forever.

Night came on fast. It was nearly eight o’clock, and Lucy, in her nightgown, sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor. Her candle altar was set up on top of  her hope chest. Next to it was Johnny’s cigar lighter. She’d already spread the flowers around the candles and was holding some of Johnny’s hair in her hand to sprinkle on top of the flowers. The moon was full, just as the gypsy had foretold. Its moonlight spilling in from her bedroom window was all the light Lucy needed to read the spell, so she left the lamps dark. She’d practiced reading the spell so many times she had it memorized. Lucy still had the parchment in her lap and was going to read from it as Madam Vadoma had instructed. She wasn’t going to take any chances.

Though she was prepared, Lucy felt terrified. Madam Vadoma’s voice reverberated through her mind. “Remember, child, the most important ingredient for your spell is your belief that it will work.” I believe. I believe.

It was now eight o’clock. Time to cast. Lucy knelt at the candle altar and sprinkled Johnny’s hair on top of the Primrose petals. “Spirits of the Earth, and Sky, I call to thee. Spirits of the Fire, and Water, I call to thee.” She lit the white candle. “I ask that you bless me and my endeavors this night. I ask that you bless me and my candle light.” She lit the blue candle. “Johnathan Holloway, warrior, husband, lover, friend. Your journey abroad has come to an end. In the name of love I call you to me. Home is where your heart must be. Our hearts are bound, by bosoms heave. I am your wife, to whom you cleave.” She lit the red candle. “Use these wings of fire to fly you here; fast and sure your path is clear. In the name of love, Johnathan Holloway, wherever you roam, may the spirits grant this spell and bring you home.” She picked up one Primrose petal and burned it in the red candle’s flame. It popped and sizzled, and to Lucy’s surprise caught fire. She dropped it on top of the candle. It smoldered and sank a little into the wet red wax.

Madam Vadoma’s spell was finished. Lucy sat back on her feet, reaching out with her senses to see if anything felt different. She herself felt confident, all her fear was gone. Her room felt warm and bright despite being lit only by moon and candle light. She knew she was not done yet though, and knelt at her candle altar once again. This time she was facing the last candle. My candle. The Black Lotus.

Lucy pulled out her own poem, hoping it would work, knowing it wasn’t as good as the gypsy’s. She lit the Black Lotus. Its flame was noticeably darker than the other candles. No going back now.

“I ask you to bring him to me. In my arms he must always be. It is this home where he must stay. Bring Johnathan Holloway to me, come what may!” She burned a Primrose petal in the purple candle’s flame.

The room changed. Her confidence vanished. The air was thicker around her than it had been before. The room felt cold and was darker too. The moonlight was gone. Lucy rose and rushed to the window. The moon is gone! Lucy strained to see anything in the darkness outside her window. She decided that a cloud must have covered the moon, and she turned back to her candle altar. The candles had all blown out. All but one.

The Black Lotus flame was higher and stronger than ever. It seemed to be feeding off of the Primrose petal it consumed. Lucy stumbled back to the altar, the Lotus’s flame was now the only light in her bedroom. She didn’t know what to do. Madam Vadoma’s parchment said to let the candles burn until morning. Had she done something wrong? Lucy watched the candle burn, and she knew the answer to that. Everything was wrong. She should never have taken the candle. She shouldn’t have added to the spell. What have I done?

She groped her way to the lamp beside her bed and turned it on. The small light brought some comfort back into her bedroom. She would tell Madam Vadoma what she had done and ask her what to do. Lucy peered across the dim room. The clock on her bedroom wall read twelve o’clock. “How is that possible?” Lucy crossed to the clock. It was true. Midnight. It made no sense. She couldn’t possibly have  been casting the spell for four hours.

Lucy turned back to the altar and the one burning candle on it. My candle. Lucy realized the Black Lotus was not now, nor had it ever been hercandle. She blew at the wick. The flame danced away from her breath, but didn’t go out. She blew harder. It was the same. She blew again, this time as hard as she could. The only thing that changed was that Lucy became dizzy. Lucy licked her fingers and tried to snuff the candle. She cried out as it burned her, but the flame didn’t die; it just seemed to burn around her fingers.

“This cannot be happening. It cannot be happening!” Lucy resumed her petty attempt to blow out the flame. She blew, and blew, and blew and blew, until she passed out.

“Lucy?” Her eyes fluttered open and looked into the face of her handsome, dark blonde soldier. Another dream. Lucy leaned her head into Johnny’s chest. He’s holding me. “Lucy, are you alright? Are you hurt?” She gripped him tighter and buried her face in his chest. She didn’t want him to leave her like the last time. God, he smells good! “Baby, are you okay?”

“Mmmm. I like this dream.” Lucy smiled up at her dream husband. She decided she would relish every second she could. “I love you.”

“I love you too, but it’s not a dream, Kiddo. I’m home.” He kissed her. I don’t want to wake up ever!  “Why were you on the floor? What the hell happened in here?”

Lucy snapped awake. “Johnny?”

“What’s with all the candles? Did we lose power?” He put her down on the bed. She scrambled back up into his arms.

“You’re really here!” She was kneeling on the bed, with her arms thrown around his neck. Lucy could hardly see him through her curtain of tears.

“I suppose I should have told you, but I wanted it to be a surprise.” He kissed her hard. She kissed back harder. “Man, I’ve missed this.”

“I don’t understand. It shouldn’t have been this fast.” As she spoke, Lucy covered Johnny’s cheeks, neck, and ears in kisses.

“What do you mean fast? I’ve been gone for almost a year! I should have been home months ago, but you know I couldn’t get cleared for leave.” They were both kneeling on the bed now. Johnathan was quickly getting out of uniform. He was undoing is buttons as fast as he could. She was helping.

“It wasn’t supposed to work out like this.” Lucy let him take his shirt off, she focused on his belt.

“Are you disappointed?” Lucy looked up to see the same clever rogue smile she fell in love with.

Lucy rubbed her arms across his strong, bare chest making him shudder. “Not a bit.” The rest of his clothes came off in a hurry. Lieutenant Johnathan Holloway was now just Johnny again. He was all hers. Johnny is home!

He looks like an angel when he sleeps. Their reunion had been physical and exhausting. They  spent almost the entire day in bed. Lucy woke up around two o’clock because the phone was ringing downstairs.

Mrs. Greenstone was calling, wondering how Lucy was feeling and whether or not she would be able to come back to the dress shop to work tomorrow. Lucy was about to tell her about Johnny coming home, but something stopped her. Why not keep Johnny to herself a little longer? He was sure to get a hero’s welcome from the town, and everyone would want them around for dinner. Their life would soon be full of other people, lots of people. She decided another lie wouldn’t hurt, and she told Mrs. Greenstone that she felt she was too ill to work for the rest of the week. Mrs. Greenstone understood, of course. She asked if she could bring anything to Lucy, and Lucy once again went on about getting others sick. Mrs. Greenstone was gracious and took the hint.

Lucy realized she had nothing to eat since Mrs. Greenstone’s chicken soup the day before, and she hadn’t eaten much of that. Dinner had been out of the question due to her nerves. Spell casting was  intimidating, after all. Johnny must be starving too. Who knew when his last meal had been? Not to mention he had most certainly worked up an appetite with all of the celebrating they had been doing.

Lucy opened the icebox; it was pretty bare. She’d been cooking for one person for so long that she wasn’t well stocked enough to satisfy a robust man like her Johnny. He was always ravenous.

She looked at the stove like a long lost friend. It was no longer a symbol of what was missing, and could once again be loved. With her head back in the icebox she saw she had eggs. Lucy decided to make him his favorite breakfast of hens in a basket; then she would have to make a trip to the market for groceries. She perked some coffee and started cooking breakfast for her husband. Now it was she who floated around her kitchen with the ease of a dancer.

Lucy was surprised when Johnny didn’t come down stairs. Normally the smell of her coffee alone was enough to make him bolt to their breakfast nook table. He loved to sit during the morning, drinking his coffee, talking, and watching her from around his newspaper. She loved it too.

Only a little disappointed, Lucy was determined to make this a perfect first meal home for her husband. She pulled out a serving tray and took great pride in making it up like they would at a restaurant. She walked up the stairs carefully to not spill his orange juice.

Johnny was still sound asleep. Poor baby!  She was on her way to serve him his breakfast in bed, when she noticed her candle altar. Everything still sat on her hope chest, untouched from last night. What was disturbing wasn’t that the Black Lotus was still lit, but that it hadn’t melted down an inch.

Lucy put the breakfast tray down on the bed next to her sleeping husband. She walked and knelt in front of the candle as she had done just the night before. Its dark flame burned bright. There was nothing remaining of the Primrose petal she had burned in it and absolutely no mark on the candle itself. There was no dried, spent wax around the base the Black Lotus sat on. There was not even the normal wet wax you would expect to be pooled around the candle’s burning wick. Lucy reached up and touched the deep purple candle. It was hard and cold. It was not melting. How?

“Magic,” she answered herself. She looked up at her sleeping husband. He was home, and Lucy knew that this candle was responsible. She resigned herself to not worry and to just accept and be grateful for the magic that had brought Johnny back to her. On a whim, she picked up the burning candle and placed it on her window ledge. It felt right for it to be there.

Johnny screamed. He kicked, and the breakfast tray and all its contents flew off the bed, crashing on the floor. Lucy ran to him and held his shoulders. “Johnny! Johnny, what’s wrong? Johnny?” He continued to struggle, and she was flung on the floor on top of the overturned serving tray.

Johnny sat up with military posture and looked around the room, confused. When he saw Lucy on the floor, he tumbled out of his tangled sheets and the bed and scooped her up. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“You woke up screaming and thrashing around. I think you were having a nightmare.” He set her down on her feet beside the mess on the floor. “I made you breakfast.” She brushed the smashed egg and toast mess off of her posterior.

“I don’t remember dreaming about anything. Did I make this mess?” She nodded. “God, I am so sorry Luce!” He held her. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not really, you just scared me.” Lucy wanted to snuggle up to him, but then she became aware of the orange juice dripping from her hair and stepped back. “I’m a mess.”

“Baby, I’m sorry.” He bent down and started cleaning up his ruined breakfast. “Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll have the room looking good as new when you get out.”

“What about your breakfast? I can make some more…”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. I’m really not very hungry anyway. I’ll grab something from the kitchen if I need it. You go clean yourself up.” Lucy grabbed her robe and started making her way to the bathroom, careful not to leave any food mess behind as she went. “Hey!” She turned to find him right behind her. “I love you even when you are covered in egg and orange juice.” He kissed her. She responded. Their kisses became ardent, as their passion grew.

“Yuck!” Lucy pulled away. “You, Lieutenant Johnathan Holloway, need to brush your teeth before there will be any more of that.” He looked shocked, then feigned a hurt expression complete with big bottom lip. She smiled and stuck out her tongue. She dashed out of the bedroom and down the hall with him quick on her heels, but she reached the upstairs bathroom, slamming the door before he could catch her.

When she came out freshly scrubbed and wearing her robe, she found her red party dress hanging over the staircase railing. Right next to hung Johnny’s red ribbon. What is he up to? Excitement sent a pleasant shudder through Lucy. She went back into the bathroom and put both the dress and ribbon on. Lucy fantasized about where he was taking her tonight. Dinner, dancing, a movie, a show? It had been so long since she had been anywhere. She decided she had better play it safe and put on all her makeup as well. When she opened the door again, she almost tripped over her best black heels. I love him so much!

Lucy slipped on her black high heels and almost killed herself running down the stairs in them; she had to see what he was up to. “Johnny?”  He wasn’t waiting by the front door, as she had imagined he would be. He wasn’t in the parlor. He wasn’t in the kitchen, although he certainly had been; it was a mess. Then she heard the record player start up and Frank Morgan started singing,  “You Were Meant for Me.” Our song!

Lucy walked out of the kitchen and to their back porch to find Johnny standing in his tuxedo, next to the record player. Outside in their backyard a tablecloth was spread on the ground. It was covered with a hodgepodge of different foods that he could find in their kitchen. It was nearly five o’clock, and Lucy was ravenous. But nothing would make her rush this moment.

“You look gorgeous.” He reached out for her to take his hand. “Would you do me the honor, Mrs. Holloway?” She nodded. He danced her on to the back porch, then down the stairs, and out on to the lawn. Lucy had a fleeting thought about the neighbors seeing them and decided she didn’t care what anyone thought. She was dancing with her husband. I’m happy.

When their song was finished and the next one started, Johnny sat her down for their picnic. She dove for the grapes and cheese. “Hungry?” he chuckled.

“Mmmhmm,” she said around a large grape. “Aren’t you?”Lucy moved on to the entree, a turkey sandwich. Johnny made it.  It was fantastic.

“Not really, but I sampled a lot when I was getting everything together. You go ahead and have your fill.” He sat across from her as close to cross-legged as his tuxedo would allow.

“What a funny pair we make, dressed to the nines and eating on the grass.” She giggled.

“If there is anything the military has taught me, it’s to be overdressed for every occasion. Besides, this is all just an excuse to see you in that dress.” Johnny gave her a  gamesome leer.

Lucy kicked off her heels, stood up and did a twirl for him. “You like it?”

“That right there is worth every second I have to spend in this monkey suit.” He popped a grape in his mouth and spit it out into the grass. “Sorry about that, Luce. I got a sour one.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She picked up a grape for herself; it was a good one. “And as for your tuxedo,” she smirked, “I don’t think you’ll have to wear it too much longer tonight.”

“You are being awfully flirty tonight, Lucille.”

“You are one to talk, Johnathan.”

“Hurry up and eat!” He mock demanded, then lied down on his back, still looking at her. “About last night, what was with all that jazz you had on your hope chest? All the flowers and candles?”

She bit her lip. “You’ll just laugh.”

“No I won’t.”

Lucy sighed. “I cast a spell to bring you home.”

“You did what?” He propped himself up on his elbow. “What do you mean a spell?”

“Madam Vadoma…” she noticed his confused look, “the gypsy across the street, that’s her name.  She helped me cast a spell to bring you home.” Her voice had grown so quiet, he had to lean in to hear her. “And it worked.”

“Oh, Luce. She conned you, Sweetie. I was already on my way to you. I told you that.” He groaned and lied back down, his arms folded under his head. “I feel terrible, I should have told you I was coming. How much did she get from you?”

Johnny was making her angry. “She didn’t get anything from me. She was doing this for us. She said she was doing it to honor your sacrifice and bravery.”

“I’m sure she did.” He rolled his eyes. “Honey, their kind is known for tricking people out of their money. You can’t trust them.” He shook his head at her. “If she hasn’t asked for money yet she will, or maybe she already stole something. Did you let her in the house?”

“Johnny, she’s not like that at all!” But even as she defended her, Lucy went over all of her time spent with Madam Vadoma. She couldn’t have stolen anything. “And it did work! I cast the spell, I fell asleep.” She wasn’t going to tell him she fainted. “When I woke up you were home!”

“It’s just a coincidence. Listen to yourself, Lucy.” He crossed to her, pulling her to her feet. “Do you really believe a spell brought me home?”

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to tell him that she knew it had worked. But even to her, it sounded foolish. “I don’t know.”

“I go to war and my beautiful wife goes crazy.” He hugged her close. “I love you crazy lady.” He chuckled and forced her to snuggle under his arm. She couldn’t stay angry at him. “When you think about it, it’s pretty flattering.”

“What is?” She snuggled closer, on her own this time.

“Well, I’m not sure how many wives would turn to witchcraft to bring their husbands home.”  He laughed long and hearty.

“Just keep making fun of me, and the next time you’re gone, I’ll turn you into a toad, or maybe a puppy.” They both laughed, and before Lucy knew it he was kissing her. “Eww, your breath. You forgot to brush your teeth.” She smiled at him, but he looked hurt. “Oh, you didn’t forget?”

“I must have.” He smiled. It was a pale reflection of his normal roguish smile. It was sheepish, and it made her feel terrible.

Lucy was going to apologize for teasing him when the front doorbell rang. She frowned up at the darkening sky. A little late for company. “I’ll go see who it is.”

“I’ll clean up out here. I would like to continue our magic discussion upstairs, in the bedroom.” She blushed, but smiled on her way inside. “A puppy huh?” He called after her.

“Unless you would prefer a toad.” She kept walking.

“Completely crazy.” She heard him say to himself. She giggled.

Madam Vadoma was standing at her front door. She looked over Lucy’s red party dress and raised her eyebrows. “I was coming to see how everything went last night, but you must have company.” The corners of her mouth spoke all of the disproving words she kept from her speech.

Lucy stepped out onto the front porch, closing the door behind her. Being in front of the gypsy disappeared all the doubt from her mind. She was all of a sudden overcome and hugged the woman before she could stop herself. “It worked!”

“What worked, child?” Madam Vadoma was clearly surprised by the hug, but made no move to pull away from it.

“The spell! Johnny came home. He’s here!” Lucy felt tears welling up. She hadn’t realized how much she had wanted to say that to someone. She was glad it was Madam Vadoma.

“What do you mean? It could not have worked so quickly.” Confusion looked so unusual on the old woman’s face, that at any other time it would have been comical, but Lucy knew better than to laugh at her.

Still confused, Madam Vadoma sniffed Lucy, then she sniffed the front door. The humorous, puzzled expression dropped from her face and was replaced by something truly terrifying: rage. Lucy shrank back against the door. “What have you done?” There was more accusation than question in the old woman’s tone. When Lucy didn’t answer, she accused/asked again, “What have you done, you stupid fool?” Darkness had fallen quickly around the two women, and Madam Vadoma looked up at the large deep purple candle burning in Lucy’s bedroom window. Her eyes grew three sizes.

“I had to…” Lucy was cut off when the gypsy slapped her hard across her face. She fell against the door frame, clutching her stinging cheek in shock.

The gypsy began muttering words and spitting. She made some sort of gesture that resembled the Catholic sign of the cross and spit again. “You will get exactly what you asked for. Not even in death will you escape it.” She turned and ran across the street to her own home. Before she went inside she turned and yelled back to Lucy. “God help you, for even I cannot now!”

 To Be Continued…