Shane twirls his whiskers. “After what happened, I don’t recommend it either.”

“Having finesse with crystals, can you recommend what direction I should go in?” I ask, attaching evergreen to a shelf.

“No idea. My crystal work is purely for spells and healing. It was a risky thing you did working with a cat sith.”

I frown at my boss, suspending the last of the holly sprigs. “Everybody is a critic, except for Leslie. Oddly, she supported my decision.”

“Stating facts, Gwyn. What will you do about the Seamus situation?”

“I’m taking a break. I suspected he had a crush on me, but I never expected him to act on those emotions. Archie and I had a tiff over the incident. You were married for years. What would you do about it?”

“Every couple argues over the small stuff and important decisions. Your tiff, as you call it, contains a little of both.” He pulls out the mistletoe decoration and moves the empty box aside. “It’s for the two of you to decide what qualifies as significant and what is trivial. My advice to you? Don’t allow either to come between you and Archie. Life is too short.”

“It’s mostly me. I was pissed he was angry. I thought if I told him the truth, he’d understand. He apologized, but I didn’t like how he acted, telling me I should have asked him first.”

Shane steps on a stool and hangs the mistletoe on a permanent hook at the door entrance. “A bit of stubbornness returning to the flock?”

“Call me out, boss,” I say, exhaling.

He chuckles, his ruby-red lips peeking through the white beard. “Pointing out the obvious, darling. Don’t worry. It’ll all come out in the wash.”

The door dings and Jeff enters the store. “Good morning. Can you believe the temperature may rise to near sixty today? More than twenty degrees since yesterday’s high. It’s supposed to be in the sixties tomorrow. I just put this hoodie away for the season and had to dig it out again.” He glances around. “The decorations are awesome. We should add blue and white, too. Try to be inclusive of more holidays. I’m sorry I’m late. I came from Ashley’s apartment. Tough morning.”

“Oh, was Aidan a problem?” I ask. “He was improving, I thought.”

“No. His behavior has been fantastic since you babysat. Ashley is so thankful. I don’t know what you did, but he’s listening to us and learning to entertain himself more. Even his sleep is better. It’s why I’m late. I never used to need an alarm when I stayed on Saturday nights. I overslept.”

“Well, how wonderful for all of you,” Shane says, folding the step stool. “Must take a load off Ashley.”

Jeff removes his hoodie and stashes it under the counter. “It’s a little relief, but she’s still so stressed out—partly from teaching and grading. But I think it’s mostly over the Bearsden Police Department bringing in the FBI to investigate the kidnappings.”

“You’d think that would reduce her stress, knowing they’re investigating.”

He shrugs. “In my opinion, involving the FBI also confirms the PD’s suspicions the kidnappings are connected with the Baby Nabbers. Gwyn, Ashley says she’s researching giants in Welsh folklore for you.” He crosses his arms. “Really?”

“She offered, Jeff. Wanted to repay me somehow. I promise. I’m not using her. She has enough on her plate. This is a one and done thing.”

A customer enters the store with a ding, and Jeff lowers his voice. “I hope so, because she doesn’t need to be at your beck and call over your private research project.”

“I get your message loud and clear,” I say, rolling my lips inward.

Jeff follows Shane into the back of the store, and I grab a duster. I sure hope Ashley finds relevant folklore. So far, every road leads to a dead end.

When I come out of the bathroom, I predict a toy apocalypse will await me in the living room. Instead, the pile of puzzles is merely in disarray, and Aidan is resting on his chair in the time-out corner.

“Why are you sitting there?” I ask, perplexed.

He peers up at me with those angelic blue eyes, giggling. “I get tickles here.”

“You’re funny, Aidan.” I walk over and squat, tickling his belly. “Like that?”

He giggles again. “No. Not in my tummy. All over.”

My grin gives way to a flat line as I inspect the walls and the ceiling. I raise my hand to investigate.

“Pweeze, Miss Gwyn. No invisible hands,” he says, pouting.

“I won’t, Aidan. You’ve been a very good boy.” I stroke his pale-blond hair. “Go to your toys and start stacking a block tower. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yay! I love blocks. I make a big one. We push it down.”

He darts to his toys and collects the blocks into a pile while I continue to inspect the time-out corner. As I close my eyes, I recite an incantation to summon my witch energy. I attempt to survey the area for supernatural residue. When my gut pinches, my eyelids flip open. But I discover nothing. I turn around, and there’s a bubble of magic surrounding Aidan. The doorknob jiggles, and Ashley walks in, distracting me. I return my gaze to the sweet boy, but the illusion is gone.

“Hello,” she says, shutting the door. “How’s my sweet angel?”

“Mommy!” Aidan shouts, dashing to her. “We build blocks.”

“Great, sweetie. I have to spend a few minutes showing Miss Gwyn a few things before she leaves. Can you build the tower alone for a bit?”

“Aww. OK. I build a big one and make it go down.” He returns to his blocks.

“Let’s sit at the bar,” Ashley says, pulling a reference book from her backpack. “He won’t play alone for long. I can’t thank you enough for watching him last week. He still has his moments of noncompliance, but since you came, it’s more like a regular two-year-old.”

“Whatever you can offer is fine with me. You have a busy schedule, and Aidan deserves time with his mother. As I said before, Mondays are a good day for me to watch him. We had fun today.”

“It’s hard being a single mom and trying to move up the academic ladder. And I’m on the lowest rung as an instructor.” She flips open the book to the first note strip. “Why giants? What fascinates you so much about them?”

I suck in my lower lip. “They’re unique. One showed up in a dream I had, and I can’t get it out of my head.” It’s not a lie.

“Dreams mess with our minds, don’t they? I’ve had a few nightmares myself lately.” She peers at her son. “This one should spike your curiosity. The Canthrig Bwt was a giantess who lived in the county of Gwynedd under a great stone in a small town called Nant Peris.”

“Oh, wonderful. That does capture my interest.”

“She ate the local children,” she says, matter-of-factly.

I grimace. “Perhaps not fascinating enough for me.”

She chuckles and flips the pages to the next note. “She was also a witch.”

Ashley squints at me, and I swallow my urge to smile. She continues, skimming over giants and giantesses in tales of King Arthur, one of them a red-eyed giant called Rhitta Gawr who held a court in Snowdonia, and the giant of Castell Maelor, who was captured close to his castle.

“His enemies sentenced him to death,” she says. “As a final request, he asked to blow his horn several times. He blew with such force, his hair and beard fell out, then his fingers and toenails fell off.”

“Uhh, yuck. I assume there aren’t any other giants in the Welsh literature?” Because none of these dudes and dudettes resemble my monster giant at all.

“I’m sure there are others I may not be aware of. I concentrated on Arthurian legends in school.”