Something to Witch About (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 5) Read online

  “Because my mom made mention to your mom that she would like to meet your father,” Landon said. “Your mom thought that was a great idea.”

  “No, she didn’t,” I grumbled. “She just wanted to be the perky hostess, like usual.”

  Thistle’s face reflected the emotional turmoil gathering in my gut. “I think that’s a terrible idea.”

  “They’d already invited them,” Landon said. “What did you expect me to do?”

  “Tell them to uninvite them,” Thistle said. “Any time our mothers are in the same room with our fathers things get … ugly.”

  “Maybe this time will be different,” Landon suggested.

  “And maybe Aunt Tillie will suddenly sprout wings and a halo and start channeling an angel,” Thistle replied.

  “Don’t get snotty.”

  “I’m not trying to be snotty,” Thistle said. “You seem to forget that our mothers and our fathers don’t get along under the best of circumstances. You want to throw your family, Aunt Tillie, Kenneth and Chief Terry into that mix and you somehow think this is going to end well?”

  “My family will be out of here in a few days,” Landon said. “I can’t exactly explain why dinner with your fathers is such a bad idea.”

  “You could if you tried,” Thistle said. “I’ll help you.”

  “I think it’s a good idea,” Clove said.

  Thistle rolled her eyes. “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Don’t tell me what I think,” Clove said.

  “Someone needs to.”

  This could go on forever. “Why don’t you think it’s a bad idea?” I asked.

  “Because, it’s new people for Landon’s family to focus on,” Clove pointed out. “Our dads like to avoid all talk of witchcraft as it is, so that’s not going to be a big distraction. It might be a good thing.”

  She had a point. Still, though … .

  “And what happens when they find out Bay was missing all day yesterday and we never called them?” Thistle asked.

  Uh-oh. I hadn’t even thought of that. “You guys didn’t call them?”

  “Why would we?” Thistle asked. She was still bitter about the divide between our mothers and fathers. “We knew you weren’t over there.”

  Family interactions in the Winchester clan are always dicey situations. “We’ve been really bad about spending time with them lately.”

  “We’ve been busy,” Thistle said. “Besides, we thought Clove was going out there and spending time with them.”

  I reached over and pinched her.

  “Ow!”

  “Stop doing that,” I ordered. “We agreed to give Clove some … leeway in this,” I said. “You constantly bringing it up and berating her is not leeway.”

  “Thank you,” Clove said.

  “She’s not wrong, though,” I added. “We’ve been … inattentive.”

  Thistle snorted. “You mean self-absorbed.”

  That, too. “We need to make a better effort.”

  Thistle bristled. “You say ‘we’ but what I’m really hearing is ‘you.’”

  “Hey! I’ve been dealing with Landon’s family. What’s your excuse?”

  “You’ve been dealing with Landon’s family for less than a week,” Thistle reminded me. “We haven’t seen them in almost three weeks.”

  “I had to plan for Landon’s family,” I countered.

  “Whatever.”

  I glanced over at Landon. “What do you think about all this?”

  Landon shrugged. “I don’t know them well enough to offer an opinion.”

  “That’s never stopped you before,” Thistle said.

  “Eat your lunch, Thistle,” he grunted.

  “Why is everyone so food-obsessed these days?” Thistle grumbled.

  “Maybe we just want you to have something in your mouth so you’ll shut up?” Landon retorted.

  Thistle narrowed her eyes so that only a narrow swath of color was visible through the slits. “You’re really starting to bug me.”

  “Right back at you.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Aunt Tillie met Landon and me at the back door of the inn a few hours later. “I want you to know that I told them this was a horrible idea,” she announced. “No one ever listens to me, though.”

  I didn’t doubt that. She was at war with our fathers – that is when she wasn’t covering up a murder and lying about a dead body – and I knew she hadn’t forgotten about their grand opening in a few weeks. “I know.”

  She glanced at Landon, but his face was unreadable. She reached into her pocket and held out a potion. “Here. Take this.”

  “What is it?” I asked suspiciously.

  “It will make you less achy,” Aunt Tillie replied. “I take it for my arthritis, but I figured it will help with your sore muscles.”

  Taking a potion from Aunt Tillie usually had disaster written all over it. I was unsure. I didn’t know how to voice my concerns without insulting her, though. I needn’t have worried; Landon was up to the task.

  “Is that what this really is?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are there going to be any funny side effects?”

  “No.”

  “Is she going to be forced to tell the truth for twenty-four hours?”

  “I already admitted the timing of that was … bad.”

  “Are her pants going to fit tomorrow morning?”

  “It depends on how much she eats tonight,” Aunt Tillie sneered.

  Landon sighed. “Is she going to smell like bacon? Because I wouldn’t mind that one back.”

  Aunt Tillie grinned. “Maybe for Christmas.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” Landon replied before focusing on me. “I think you should take it.”

  “You do?”

  “I can’t stand seeing how much pain you’re in,” he said. “If she can help, then you should let her help.”

  “I’m not really in pain,” I countered.

  “You groan like an old woman whenever you move,” Landon said. “You’re also favoring your right side. I know you like to be tough and brave, but there’s no shame in taking something to make yourself feel better.”

  I took the potion from Aunt Tillie. “Can I drink this with wine? Because I have a feeling I’m going to need a whole bottle of wine to get through this dinner.”

  “I drink it with wine all the time,” she replied.

  That wasn’t necessarily the response I was looking for. What the hell? How bad could things really get? I uncorked the potion and downed it in one gulp.

  Landon watched me. “How do you feel?”

  “Let’s eat.”

  “THIS LOOKS amazing,” Earl said, glancing at the impressive spread on the dining room table. “I love Polish food. Is this all homemade?”

  My father and uncles had arrived about ten minutes earlier, and Twila had made nervous introductions in the foyer. The minute he saw me, Dad was striding across the room. “What happened to you?”

  “I got thrown from a horse,” I replied, accepting his worried hug without complaint. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. Has she been to the hospital?”

  “She’s fine, Jack,” Mom warned. “Don’t smother her.”

  Dad didn’t look convinced, but he’d let Mom lead him into the dining room anyway. Now, here we were, a full table of multiple families and muddied pasts colliding.

  “I’ve always loved it when you guys make Polish food,” Uncle Teddy said. He was sitting next to Thistle, which kept him away from Twila. I noticed that Uncle Warren had been similarly situated away from Marnie.

  “It’s one of Bay’s favorites,” Mom said. “After yesterday, I figured she should get whatever she wants for a day.”

  If that were true I certainly wouldn’t be here.

  “I’m kind of curious why Bay was missing for a day and no one called me,” Dad said. He was seated on my
right, with Landon being shifted to my left so he could handle Aunt Tillie if she got out of hand.

  “We didn’t think to call you,” Mom said, scooping food onto Chief Terry’s plate. She’d made sure he was sitting next to her, which I had no doubt was for my father’s benefit.

  “Well, when someone’s daughter goes missing, I think one of the first calls should be to her father,” he said, glancing at me pointedly.

  “Don’t look at me,” I said. “I was unconscious.”

  Dad patted my hand. “I’m not blaming you.”

  “No, he’s blaming me,” Mom said.

  “No one is blaming anyone,” Chief Terry interjected. “We’re all lucky that Bay was found and she’s okay. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Dad challenged. “I’m sure you were the first one called.”

  “I’m the chief of police,” Chief Terry replied. “Of course I was called.”

  “Well, I don’t think it’s too much to ask that I be called next time,” Dad countered.

  “There’s not going to be a next time,” Landon said, rubbing his forehead and then reaching for a bottle of wine. He filled his glass and then, after a look at my face, filled mine as well. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “I want to talk about how beautiful Tillie looks,” Kenneth said. He’d been placed between Daryl and Denny at the far end of the table. Blanche kept shooting flirtatious glances in his direction – which wasn’t lost on Aunt Tillie – but either Kenneth was pretending not to notice or he really was all about my persnickety great aunt.

  “She looks great,” I agreed.

  “So, Bay tells us that the three of you are opening your own inn,” Connie said, turning to Uncle Warren. “That’s got to be exciting.”

  “It’s a lot of work,” Warren replied. “We’re hoping that it will be all worth it.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Aunt Tillie muttered under her breath.

  Landon sent her a pointed look, which she ignored.

  “Did you say something, Tillie?” Dad asked. He was clearly ready for a fight tonight.

  “I asked for more wine,” she lied.

  Landon obediently filled her glass.

  “I don’t think that’s what she said,” Blanche interjected from the far end of the table.

  “You can’t hear when someone is right next to you,” Landon said. “You definitely can’t hear all the way down here.”

  “My hearing is fine,” Blanche sniffed.

  I took a drink of wine and then cut into my stuffed cabbage, glancing at the wall clock for confirmation that we’d only been seated for five minutes.

  “What’s the name of the inn?” Connie asked.

  “The Dragonfly,” Uncle Teddy replied.

  “That’s a good name,” Daryl said.

  “We thought it was whimsical,” Teddy agreed. “We thought it fit in with the rebranding and would be a good draw.”

  “Will you do your own cooking?” Connie asked, clearly interested in the process.

  “Warren and I have been taking classes,” Teddy said. “We think we’re going to be good. For the opening weekend, though, we’ve contracted to bring two cooks in from the culinary arts school over in Traverse City. We’re keeping our options open in case we need to keep doing it.”

  “That sounds smart,” Connie said. “It sounds like you know what you’re doing.”

  “Well, we had a leg up,” Teddy admitted. “We watched Winnie, Twila and Marnie run this inn for years – so we weren’t going in blind.”

  “Does Hemlock Cove get enough tourist traffic to support another inn?” Denny asked.

  “More than enough,” Warren said. “A lot of people have to stay in neighboring towns. This shouldn’t affect anyone’s business.”

  Denny looked to Mom for confirmation.

  “Our reservations are full for the entire season,” Mom replied, although her voice sounded stiff. “It should be fine.”

  Aunt Tillie snorted. “Oh, it will definitely be fine.”

  “So, Tillie,” Dad said, leaning back in his chair. “I hear a body was found out here. That must be … upsetting for you.”

  “Not particularly.”

  “The town gossip mill says the body has been out here for fifty years,” Dad pressed. “You must know who it is.”

  Uh-oh. He was playing with fire now.

  “The body has been identified,” Landon said. “It was a local man named Floyd Gunderson. He had a reputation for being a drunk. We still don’t have a cause of death.”

  Dad eyed Landon. “I wasn’t aware you were involved in this case.”

  “I’m not,” Landon said. “I was here when the bones were discovered, though, and Chief Terry has kept me updated.”

  “You’re here a lot,” Dad said.

  Landon shifted so he could meet my father’s gaze over my shoulder. “So?”

  “It’s just that you seem to be spending a lot of time with my daughter,” Dad said.

  “That’s what happens when you’re dating someone,” Landon replied, taking a sip of wine. “Last time I checked, that wasn’t a crime.”

  “I didn’t say it was a crime,” Dad said. “I was just saying that you’re here a lot.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I think he’s asking what your intentions are,” Aunt Tillie said, laughing. “That’s just … rich.”

  “Excuse me?” Dad raised his eyebrows.

  “You didn’t care who she was dating when she needed fatherly intervention,” Aunt Tillie said. “When she was a teenager you should’ve seen the riffraff that she brought in and out of here. Actually, all three of them brought riffraff in here – and I didn’t see any of you then.”

  Dad swallowed. “If you expect me to make excuses for that you’re going to be disappointed,” he said. “Mistakes were made by everyone. We’re trying to fix that now.”

  “I didn’t make any mistakes,” Aunt Tillie said. “I was here when they were teenagers – and let me tell you, I deserve a medal for putting up with their shenanigans.”

  Landon reached over and ran his hand down the back of my head to calm me, a gesture that wasn’t lost on Dad.

  “Just how serious are you about my daughter?” he asked. Landon ignored the question, which didn’t sit well with Dad. “Hey, I asked you a question.”

  “And I don’t feel the need to quantify my feelings to you,” Landon said easily. “She’s an adult. I have enough to deal with where the women in this family are concerned.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Don’t you go after my son,” Connie warned. “He obviously cares about Bay enough to introduce everyone.”

  “Although I’m sure he’s regretting that about now,” Earl said.

  “I don’t think I’m out of line to ask these questions,” Dad said.

  “Oh, criminy Jack,” Aunt Tillie scoffed. “They spend every night they can together and they fawn all over each other whenever they get the chance. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  One look at the grim set of Dad’s jaw told me that was not what he wanted to hear. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Tillie, I don’t think this conversation has anything to do with you.”

  “Like hell,” Aunt Tillie said. “I like the boy. He’s bossy and he doesn’t back down. He’s not the type to run. That already makes him a better man than you.”

  Crap. This dinner was quickly deteriorating. “Stop it,” I said. “We’re done talking about this.”

  “I agree,” Landon said.

  “I want to know what your problem with my son is,” Connie interjected.

  “I don’t have a problem with your son that I know of,” Dad replied. “All I know about him is that he works for the FBI and he always seems to be around.”

  “And that’s bad how?” Connie pressed.

  “I didn’t say it was bad.”

  “Listen Jack, I had my reservations about Landon when I first met him,
too,” Chief Terry said. “He’s a good man, though. He’s earned my respect and, more importantly, my trust. He’s good with Bay.”

  “You have nothing to say in this conversation,” Dad said. “You’re not her father.”

  Chief Terry sat up straighter. “And yet I spent more time with her for a number of years than you did.”

  I rubbed my eye in an effort to fight off the incessant twitching that was starting.

  “I never asked you to be a stand-in for my daughter,” Dad challenged.

  “No one asked him,” Mom replied. “He just did it. That’s the kind of man he is.”

  “I’m done,” Kenneth announced. “Tillie, I don’t suppose you’d like to go for a walk with me?”

  “No,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Landon said. “A few less people in this room can only make things better at this point.”

  “No one asked you,” Aunt Tillie growled. “Just because I stood up for you, that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you order me around.”

  “It was just a suggestion.”

  “I’ll go for a walk with you,” Blanche offered.

  “No,” Landon said. “You’re going to eat your dinner and stay right there.”

  “Why can’t she go for a walk?” Warren asked.

  Clove leaned in and whispered something in his ear, realization washing over his face as the situation cleared in his mind. “Oh.”

  “What did she say?” Aunt Tillie asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Whatever she said is a lie,” Aunt Tillie warned.

  “I got it.”

  “You know what? I think Landon and I should go for a walk and get to know one another,” Dad said. “That should fix everything.”

  Uh-oh.

  “If you want to get to know me, then we’ll do it in a few days,” Landon said. “Right now, my family is here for a visit and I’m sticking close to Bay. There’s not a lot of room on my plate for much else.”

  “So, you’re scared? Is that what you’re saying?”

  Landon gripped his fork and glanced over at me. “I really should’ve listened to you.”

  “I’ll have that engraved on your tombstone.”

  Things were tense, but that didn’t stop both of us from bursting out laughing. There was really nothing else we could do.