Bruja Brouhaha by Rochelle Staab Read Free Book Online Page A

through the mail. The phone rang.
    “Oh good, you’re home. It’s Mom. I just got off the phone with Carmen. I heard you had quite the afternoon. When you get to the clinic tomorrow, remind them I’m bringing over cases of socks and underwear for the homeless on Friday. In fact, why don’t you delay your appointment and come with me to the clinic then?”
    “Sorry, I have to go tomorrow,” I said.
    “You can still come back with me on Friday and help me carry the boxes.”
    “What about Dad? I have clients on Friday.”
    “Your father has an LAPD retiree luncheon. You only have clients in the morning, right?” Mom knew my schedule as well as she knew her hairdresser’s days off. “We’ll go in the afternoon. Carmen told me about the hex at the wake today. Chilling. I hope you weren’t anywhere near Lucia Rojas. Do you think it will affect our fund-raiser?”
    “No, Mom. Lucia was angry and upset. The hex means nothing.” I began to open my mail.
    Conversations with Vivian Gordon were low maintenance on the reply end, but I had to give Mom at least half of my attention. She was known to slip in little bombshells, committing me to things I didn’t want to do. She rattled on about Nick conjuring a hex-breaker and what she thought I should wear to the fund-raiser. The flyers, coupons, and bills in my mail required little attention until I came to a white envelope, hand addressed to me in unfamiliar penmanship. I slid open the flap and took out the letter inside.
    “Carmen told me the hex cleared the room,” Mom said. “This won’t do at all. The Cherries solicited local merchants for donations. I don’t want our guests to cancel out of fear of leaving their houses. We promised Carmen and Victor . . .”
    Her words faded out as I read the letter in my hand:
    Dear Dr. Cooper,
    Your three-year lease at 3915 Carpenter Avenue, Unit B, expires at the end of May. We hereby inform you the lease will not be renewed due to planned ownership occupancy. Your full security deposit will be refunded pending inspection. It has been a pleasure having you as a tenant. We wish you the best of luck in the future.
     
    The letter was signed by the lease company and dated two days ago.
    I was getting evicted in six weeks.

Chapter Six
    I leaned back into the sofa cushions with the phone to my ear. Everything in my living room was the same—the calming milk white walls and furniture, the brick fireplace I burned in autumn and winter, the towering orchid in the center of the pine coffee table, and Erzulie curled at my side. But I felt different, a stranger.
    Mom stopped chattering. “Liz? Did you hear me? Elizabeth, what is wrong?”
    “I’m losing the town house, Mom. I have to move. The lease company sent me a letter. The owners are moving back in at the end of May.” Saying the words out loud made the reality worse. This wasn’t my home anymore.
    “I told you not to lease that place. If you’d just tried to work things out with Jarret, you could still be living in that nice big house in Royal Oaks right now.”
    “We did work things out. We got divorced.” I couldn’t stop myself from snapping at her. Mom ignored the opposing directions Jarret and I took toward the end of our marriage: I focused on my career; he dallied with flings and booze.
    “You’re upset, dear. I meant you could have kept the house but you insisted on leaving,” Mom said.
    “I hated that house. I like where I am now.”
    “So buy your own house. You have the money.”
    For once, Mom made sense. Fifteen years of marriage to a major league baseball pitcher left me with a generous divorce settlement. My leased town house was supposed to be a temporary stopover until I decided where I wanted to live. Temporary turned into almost four years in Studio City, a charming community of upscale professionals, artisans, and studio workers centralized to Hollywood and the San Fernando Valley. I liked the convenience and the people. I had even