“Tell him I enjoyed it.” She sat down across from Nell. “Did you drive over?”

“No, I walked.”

“Do you drink alcoholic beverages?”

“Now and then.”

“Have one now. What’s your pleasure?”

“The Cabernet’ll be fine. Thanks.”

“Two, Betsy. Damn, I love these things.” She began to pick through the snack bowl. “Especially the little cheese ones that look like Chinese symbols. So, I brought you a book. A gift.” Mia nudged the book toward Nell. “I thought you’d like to read about where you’ve chosen to live.”

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to. The Three Sisters: Legends and Lore,” she said, reading the cover. “Thank you.”

“You’re settling in now, getting your feet under you. I should tell you first that I couldn’t be happier with your work.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I love working at the café, the store. I couldn’t have tailor-made a job I’d like more.”

“Oh, you’re Nell.” Catching the comment as she served the wine, Betsy beamed. “You’re always gone when I get to the café. I try to zip in before I open the bar. Great cookies.”

“Thanks.”

“You hear from Jane, Mia?”

“Just today. Tim got his audition, and they’re hopeful. They’re paying the rent by working at a bakery in Chelsea.”

“I hope they’re happy.”

“So do I.”

“I’ll leave you two alone. Let me know if you need anything.”

“So.” Mia lifted her glass, tapped it to Nell’s. “Slainte.”

“I’m sorry?”

“A Gaelic toast. Cheers.” Mia brought the glass to her lips, watching Nell over the rim. “What do you know about witches?”

“Which sort? Like Elizabeth Montgomery on Bewitched or the ones who wear crystals and burn candles and sell little bottles of love potion?”

Mia laughed, crossed her legs. “Actually, I wasn’t thinking of Hollywood or pseudo-Wiccans.”

“I didn’t mean to be insulting. I know there are people who take the matter very seriously. A kind of religion. That should be respected.”

“Even if they are kooks,” Mia said with a hint of a smile.

“No. You’re not a kook. I understand . . . Well, you mentioned it that first day, then your conversation with Ripley yesterday.”

“Good. Then we’ve established that I’m a witch.” Mia sipped again. “You’re a sweet one, Nell. There you are, trying very hard to discuss this intelligently, soberly, when you’re thinking I’m—let’s say—eccentric. We’ll table that for the moment and go back in history so I can lay some groundwork for you. You know of the witch trials in Salem.”

“Sure. A few hysterical young girls, fanatical Puritans. Mob mentality. Burn the witch.”