Life's a Witch Read online

  Clove’s face slackened. “But … .”

  “I’m a woman of my word,” Aunt Tillie said. “I promise to stay out of my field until Landon says it’s okay to return. I also promise to make you three pay!” With those words Aunt Tillie flounced out of the kitchen and into the dining room.

  “This is going to be horrible,” Clove whined.

  “And it’s all your fault,” Thistle said, pinching my arm. “I’m going to make you eat so much dirt … . You’re dead to me. You know that, right?”

  I blew out a frustrated sigh. “I think we’re all going to be dead when she’s done with us.”

  “SO, I hear there was quite a bit of excitement down at Hollow Creek today,” Mom said, her eyes busy as they scanned the flustered faces at the table. “How did you find the field?”

  “We just happened upon it while we were out there,” Landon replied, squeezing my knee under the table. “It was a fluke.”

  “Well, it’s going to make quite an article for the newspaper,” Brian said, his eyes sparkling.

  I frowned. I didn’t even notice he was at the table. “Who invited you?”

  “I invited him,” Rosemary said, shooting me a death glare. “Where are your manners?”

  “I think they’re on the kitchen floor,” Thistle supplied, stabbing a piece of chicken. “Where is the wine?”

  “You don’t need any wine,” Marcus countered. “You’re not even over last night’s bad decisions yet.”

  “None of us are,” Twila said, rubbing her forehead.

  “Are you two dating now?” I asked, wrinkling my nose as Brian and Rosemary whispered to each other.

  “Would that bother you?” Brian challenged. “If it does, I … .”

  Landon cleared his throat. “I don’t think it bothers her for the reason you think it bothers her,” he said. “She doesn’t like Rosemary.”

  Mom tried to kick him under the table and made contact with my shin instead. “Ow!”

  “What?” Landon returned Mom’s glare. “Everyone here knows that no one likes Rosemary. It’s not a secret.”

  “You’ve got that right,” Aunt Tillie said, guzzling her glass of wine and immediately refilling it. “There’s nothing to like.”

  “I think there’s something to like,” Brian countered. “In fact, I think she should be our first human interest interview.”

  “Oh, that’s so sweet,” Rosemary cooed, batting her eyelashes.

  “Over my dead body,” I said.

  Brian frowned. “I’m still your boss.”

  “Barely.”

  Thistle snickered, and even Aunt Tillie looked tickled with the conversational shift.

  “You’re going to interview Rosemary for our next edition,” Brian ordered.

  “Um … no,” I replied, causing both Thistle and Clove to giggle.

  “You have to,” Brian said, his voice getting shrill. “I’m the boss.”

  “No.” I reached toward the center of the table and plopped a huge dollop of mashed potatoes on my plate. “Can someone pass the gravy?”

  Marnie obliged, watching me with shocked eyes as I doused my chicken and mashed potatoes.

  “I’ll fire you,” Brian threatened.

  “Don’t go there with her,” Landon shot back. “I don’t like it.”

  “No one cares what you like,” Brian hissed.

  “We both know you can’t do that anyway,” I said. “William left a stipulation in his will that you can’t sell the newspaper or fire me. If you try to sell the newspaper, I get it. If you try to fire me, I get the newspaper. You’re stuck with me … and I’m not interviewing Rosemary.”

  “You should just give the paper to Bay,” Mom said. “She does all the work.”

  “I work!” Brian’s face reddened.

  “You do not,” Aunt Tillie said. “You sit in your office and try to come up with ideas to make more money in a town that has set advertising dollars. We all know you’re a tool. Actually, you and Rosemary have a lot in common. Why don’t you run away with her and leave Bay in charge?”

  “I second that,” Landon said.

  “I’ve about had it with you,” Brian warned. “I don’t like your attitude.”

  “Do you want to take it outside?” Landon challenged.

  Brian swallowed hard. “I … .”

  “I didn’t think so,” Landon said, turning back to his plate. “Don’t threaten my girlfriend. If you do it again, we’re going to have a big problem.”

  “But … I’m the boss!”

  “You keep telling yourself that, Sparky,” Aunt Tillie said. “Everyone knows the real power behind that newspaper. Even though she’s on my list, Bay is ten times the newspaper person you are.

  “If you’re going to stay at this table, shut your mouth,” she continued. “You’re giving me a headache, and I’ve been banned from my medicine.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Aunt Willa asked, flabbergasted. “How can you people treat a guest this way?”

  “You caught us on a bad day,” Mom said, resigned. “We’re all hungover. We’ll try to do better tomorrow.”

  “I won’t,” Thistle said.

  “I won’t either,” I added.

  “Well, maybe none of us will,” Mom said, reaching for the wine. “I don’t think it matters anymore.”

  Landon leaned closer to me. “This could be my favorite family dinner ever.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “Aunt Tillie is going to kill us tomorrow.”

  “Well, we’d better make tonight count then,” Landon said, straightening. “I’m going to need some bacon to take back to the guesthouse when we leave tonight.”

  “You’re such a pervert,” Aunt Tillie said.

  Landon didn’t seem bothered by her assessment. “I can live with that.”

  Twenty-Three

  I woke up with my face pressed against Landon’s chest and an unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something was … off.

  “What’s wrong?” Landon asked, rubbing my back.

  “How can you tell something is wrong?”

  “You usually wake up in a gooey pile of mush,” Landon replied, pressing his lips to my forehead. “You’re tense. I can probably fix that for you if you beg me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I … .” Huh. I knew what I wanted to say and yet my tongue wouldn’t form the words.

  “Go ahead and say something snarky,” Landon prodded. “If you’re feisty this morning, that probably bodes well for me.”

  “You’re a very handsome and charming man,” I said, frowning. That wasn’t what I intended to say. I tried again. “You make the sun brighter and the sky clearer.” I definitely didn’t mean to say that. “You make the stars shine like diamonds in the sky.”

  Landon leaned back to study my face. “Are you playing a game?”

  I shook my head and grabbed my tongue to shake it for good measure. “I think the sun rises and sets on you.” Oh, holy crap!

  Landon chuckled. “You can’t say what you want to say, can you?”

  I mutely shook my head.

  “Is this the nice spell? Did she cast it on you guys?”

  That was an intriguing thought. “I … think so.” It was a struggle, but the words managed to come out.

  Landon pushed himself to a sitting position, dragging me with him and shoving my morning bedhead out of the way so he could look me over. “Let’s try something else,” he said. “What’s my best quality? Try to say something dirty.”

  I scowled. “You only want me to say something dirty because you hope we can do the act of love,” I complained, loathing the schmaltzy words.

  Landon shrugged. “Try it anyway.”

  “I … um … sometimes when I look into your eyes I feel I could spend all day in there hanging out,” I said. “Oh, no!”

  Landon tried to hide his smirk. He wasn’t fond of my distress. As curses go, though, this was one of the least destructive in recent memory. “It’s not so bad, Ba
y.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “Seriously, sweetie, I … kind of like it,” Landon said, grinning. “I would’ve preferred the bacon one, but I think this one could have some perks. Tell me how handsome I am again.”

  “Your face looks as if it was chiseled from fine marble,” I said, hating myself as I said the words. “You’re like one of those Greek statues that’s supposed to show the ideal man.” I slapped my hand over my mouth, mortified.

  “Oh, this is fun,” Landon said. “This is better than the time you had to tell the truth … especially since that one turned nasty. I didn’t know you had such strong feelings about things. Tell me how good I look naked.”

  I viciously pinched his side, relieved that I could still do mean things – even if I couldn’t say them. Landon rubbed the spot over his ribs ruefully. “I guess that answers that,” he muttered. “This would be more fun if you could do only nice things to me.”

  “Aunt Tillie was right about you being … a perfect gentleman,” I said, flustered.

  Landon barked out a hoarse laugh. “You can’t even call me a pervert, can you?”

  I shook my head.

  “I … .” The bedroom door flew open, taking us by surprise. Thistle, her purple hair standing on end, stood in the doorway, her chest heaving. “You, too, huh?”

  “I’m going to reward that wonderful elderly matriarch with a bouquet of roses,” Thistle announced, her forehead wrinkling as she realized what she actually said. “I’m going to gently rub my hand against her cheek and tell her I love her.”

  Landon’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as Marcus appeared in the doorway behind Thistle.

  “Thistle is going to have a coronary if this goes on too long,” Marcus warned. “She’s already told me she loves me more than chocolate chip cookies, that I’m the handsomest man in the world, and if she could sit around and watch me naked all day she’d be the happiest woman alive.”

  Landon frowned. “Bay won’t say anything dirty. I feel left out.”

  “I’m not going to do anything … romantic and kind … until this is over,” I said, rolling my neck until it cracked. “This is the best thing that ever happened to me.” I felt like crying.

  “I’m going to … .” Thistle broke off and mimed punching an invisible person. She also roundhouse kicked it and pretended to strangle it. If a mime could make money in Hemlock Cove, Thistle would be rich right about now.

  “Well that looks fun,” Landon said. “I … .” He was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming and Clove huffily pushing into the room. “Hello, short stuff,” he said, smiling. “How are you this fine and wonderful morning?”

  “I’ve never been better,” Clove replied, although her face was murderous. “I want to go outside and sing, I’m so happy.”

  “No!” Everyone vehemently shook their heads. No matter what she believed, Clove was tone deaf and had horrible taste in music.

  “I believe that we have you to thank for this, Bay,” Clove said. “We wanted to leave our perfect and wonderful Aunt Tillie to do her own thing, because we know she’s always right, but you decided that was an improper use of our time.” Clove was agitated. “How are we going to make our day even better?”

  “I think we should split up and spend the day in bed,” Landon suggested, wriggling his eyebrows. “I’m going to get Bay to say something dirty if it kills me.”

  “Oh, we can’t stay in bed, sweetie pie,” I said, cringing at my own words. “We have to get up and have breakfast with the best great-aunt in the world.”

  “And then we have to … .” Thistle smacked her hand against the wall.

  “Okay,” Landon said, giving in. “That might be fun, too.”

  BY THE time we got to the inn an hour later, we’d managed to work out a word game akin to murderous Mad-Libs. Landon and Marcus couldn’t stop laughing, and I was seriously close to choking them. Landon may be handsome and charming, but he’s a pain in the ass when he wants to be.

  “The first thing I’m going to do when I see her is wrap my arms around her neck for the biggest hug ever and just squeeze … and squeeze … and squeeze,” Thistle said, making a face. “I’m going to squeeze her so hard her head pops off like a really pretty dandelion.”

  “That sounds absolutely delightful,” I said. “I’ll help you because I love helping my family – especially my beautiful and giving great-aunt. I’ll help you until she’s blue in the face from … my love.” Or choking. Choking would work, too.

  “Of course you love her,” Clove interjected. “She’s done nothing but give of herself to make sure we have the perfect lives … and by perfect I mean … perfect.” Clove was having the hardest time getting in the swing of things.

  “And by perfect you mean that she always made sure we landed on soft pillows as she knocked us down with her light touch,” Thistle corrected, punching the air again for good measure. “I want to lightly touch her right now.”

  “Okay, that one bordered on creepy,” Landon said, opening the door and ushering us inside. “Let’s try not to gross me out, shall we?”

  “Why would we want to do that?” I challenged. “You’ve been gracious in our hour of need. You’ve smiled through our pain and made us want to … hug you to death, too.”

  Landon pursed his lips. “You’re getting better at this.”

  “We’re fast learners,” Thistle said, pinching his cheek as tightly as she could. “It would be to your marvelous benefit to remember that happiness is a state of mind, and our minds will return to the everyday bliss we love most at some point.”

  “I think she’s warning you that she’ll kill you if you don’t give them a break,” Marcus suggested.

  Landon jerked his cheek from Thistle’s fingers and ruefully rubbed his tender skin. “I’m starting to get that.”

  We marched into the kitchen and fixed our mothers, who were busily focused on breakfast, with our most serious looks.

  “Our lives couldn’t possibly be any better thanks to Aunt Tillie,” Thistle announced. “For that we would like to spend the entire day with her … showering her with love and affection.”

  Mom frowned. “I know Landon said it was impossible, but are you three high from that pot field they burned yesterday?”

  Landon snickered, swallowing his smile when I shot him a dark look. “There’s been a … development.”

  “Do I even want to know?” Mom asked wearily.

  “It seems they all woke up with the inability to say what they really feel,” Landon explained. “Instead, they can only say nice things.”

  Mom’s eyes widened. “Oh. This is Aunt Tillie’s retribution, huh? As far as curses go, this one has potential.”

  I glared at her. “It doesn’t have the right vibe for what I’m trying to accomplish today,” I said, hating how fake and happy I sounded. “I need to talk to a few people, and I can’t do it when I’d much rather be spreading joy to the world.”

  “Huh.” Mom ran her tongue over her teeth. “Tell me what a great mother I am.”

  “If there was a queen of all mothers, you would be her,” I replied, internally rolling my eyes.

  “This is fun,” Mom said. “Tell me all the horrible things you did as a child and how sorry you are for them.”

  I jutted out my lower lip into a pout and bit my tongue. I had no intention of playing that game.

  Landon rubbed my back to soothe me. “Listen, I thought this would be fun, too,” he said. “We have a problem keeping them this way, though. I at least need the curse lifted from Bay. Thistle and Clove can probably muddle through the day, but Bay can’t.”

  “And why is that?” Aunt Tillie asked, appearing at the bottom of the stairs. “I think she’s the one who led yesterday’s mutiny. She needs to be punished.”

  Thistle launched herself at Aunt Tillie, her hands formed into claws as she reached for her neck. Marcus caught her before she could land on our ecstatic great-aunt.

  “That’s
not going to help,” Marcus chided. “If you kill her you might be stuck like this forever.”

  Thistle hung her head. Marcus’s words made sense even as her inner nature bucked going along with the program.

  “Can’t you think of a different punishment for Bay?” Landon asked. “Bacon would be good for me … but she hates it. Do that one.”

  I slammed my elbow into his stomach.

  “Oomph! I’m trying to help you, sweetie,” Landon gasped, rubbing his ribs. “I’m not going to be your champion if you keep hurting me.”

  “I don’t think Bay has learned her lesson about turning on me yet,” Aunt Tillie said. “I think the curse needs to stay.”

  “It can’t,” Landon said, his pragmatic side taking over. “We need her to try to speak with Nathaniel’s ghost. I know you don’t want to admit it, but Bay was doing the right thing when she asked you to stay out of your field last night. No matter what you say, you wouldn’t want any of your nieces going to jail because of that field. I know it.”

  Aunt Tillie opened her mouth to argue, but Landon shushed her with a look.

  “Now, I find the curse hijinks in this family entertaining … some of the time,” he continued. “I need Bay in control of her faculties today. The bacon curse would let her keep her wits while still driving her crazy.”

  “If I make her smell like food, it’s going to be one you hate,” Aunt Tillie countered. “How would you feel about curling up next to Brussels sprouts tonight?”

  “It wouldn’t be my first choice,” Landon admitted. “That doesn’t change the fact that I need her, though. Someone needs to talk with Nathaniel. If he really is turning into a poltergeist like Floyd … .”

  Aunt Tillie narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean he’s turning into a poltergeist like Floyd?”

  Landon related my story from the previous day while I stood next to him, arms crossed over my chest, and imagined eighty different ways to kill Aunt Tillie. When he was done, Aunt Tillie was intrigued.

  “I’ve never heard of anything like that before,” Aunt Tillie mused. “He could be dangerous. He could be more dangerous than Floyd, because he’s being pulled in two different directions.”