The Haunted - Jessica Verday [28]
My basket started to fill up and quickly became superheavy. I stopped at L with a deep sigh. I was going to have to come back for the rest another time. I probably had too many already.
Browsing for a moment by the bottles and vials, I looked at what they had, but didn’t pick anything up. I had plenty of bottles at home. Then I hauled the basket up to the front register to leave it there while I called for Mom.
But she was already there, talking to the lady behind the counter, and her eyes widened when she saw what I had.
“It’s just a couple… ,” I said defensively. Couple dozen. “It’s a really big cabinet.” There was a split second when I thought she was going to refuse to pay, but then she nodded and gestured for the clerk to start ringing everything up. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.
Why can’t birthdays be every day?
“I remember you,” the lady behind the counter said. “You came here before and liked our selection because you only had a smaller store by your house.” She started scanning items and punching in totals.
I grinned. “Yup, that’s me.”
She started wrapping the oils in tissue paper and placed several of the small bundles into a handled brown paper bag. “Well, I hope you’re still happy with our products.”
“Oh, definitely. Although, I did want to ask you about this honey absolute. Is it just a packaging change, or has it been reformulated, too?”
“Ahhh.” She looked pleased. “You’re the first customer to notice that. The packaging has been updated because they reformulated it. Personally, I think it’s a vast improvement over the previous version. It’s spicier. Truer to real honeycomb.” I nodded eagerly. “I’ve always had trouble with the honey holding its true scent. It de-graded too quickly.”
“I bet this one will work better for you,” she said.
Poor Mom stood by looking like we were speaking a foreign language, but at least she was being a good sport about it. The register kept working, the total climbing higher and higher, and I watched it with a growing unease. There was no way Mom was going to let me keep everything. I started to prioritize what I could and couldn’t live without. Any second now she was bound to draw the line.
“What do you think of the new E151 distiller?” the sales clerk asked. “It’s been redesigned to leave less of the plant oils behind.”
“What’s an E151 distiller?”
“It’s for harvesting your own essential oils.” She turned to the counter behind her. When she turned back to face us again, a large, square glass box was in her hands. My eyes widened, and she laughed. “You mean you don’t make any of your own oils?” I shook my head. “No. I’ve considered it once or twice, but always thought it would be too expensive.”
She held the contraption closer for my inspection. “Normally, that’s true. The large distilling machines can cost thousands of dollars. But this little baby is for home use, and it’s designed to make the process ten times easier. You just put your flowers or plants inside the hu-midifier box and add some water to this jar here.” She turned it so that I could see the back. A maze of tubes ran from one end to the other, all connecting to and crisscrossing each other. A tiny bronze knob was at the end of the tubing. “Turn this knob to increase the heat and boil the water; then the plant oils are released and funneled into a collection tube. Making your own oils really adds that extra personal touch. A lot of people swear it’s the only way to go.” Oh, man. I was sold.
Trying very hard not to look at Mom with puppy-dog eyes, I asked, “How much does it cost?”
“It’s normally one ninety-nine, but this week we’re having a discount of forty percent off on it. So the price would only be one nineteen.”
Only.
I couldn’t help it, I caved. I turned the full force of my OMG I have to have this gaze on Mom.
She sighed. “Go ahead; add it to the bill.”
“Okay, then,” the clerk chirped. “Your total will be two twenty-five eighty-seven.” I almost choked. Two hundred dollars