Life's a Witch Read online

  Landon snorted. I can never tell how he’ll react to Aunt Tillie and her threats. Sometimes he finds her funny. Other times he wants to throttle her. His face was unreadable now.

  “Tell me what’s in the box and maybe I’ll lift it for you,” Landon suggested.

  “It’s private,” Aunt Tillie shot back. She knew darned well Landon wouldn’t agree to help if he knew the contents. “It’s woman stuff.”

  “Woman stuff?”

  “You know … tampons and pads and stuff,” Aunt Tillie said, warming to her lie. “I need an industrial supply because I have estrogen issues.”

  As far as lies go, it wasn’t Aunt Tillie’s finest effort. She labored under the delusion that all men feared a woman’s monthly cycle and you could terrify them with discussions about periods and cramps. Of course, with Aunt Tillie in her eighties the threat didn’t hold a lot of weight in this particular scenario.

  Landon wasn’t about to be dissuaded by a bad lie. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that this box is full of tampons and that’s why Bay can’t lift it?”

  “She’s a weakling. What can I say?”

  Landon scowled and turned to me. “Do you want to tell me anything?”

  He knew I was in a bad spot. I had promised to tell him the truth … even when it hurt. He was aware of our witchy ways and accepted them. He was aware of Aunt Tillie’s penchant for breaking the law and, well, “accepted them” isn’t the correct way to put it. Still, he takes her antics in stride most of the time. The problem was that Aunt Tillie was downright nasty and vindictive when put on the hot seat.

  “You’re very handsome and I love you,” I offered, hoping my smile would be enough to distract him.

  “You’re cute,” Landon said. “I love you, too. I still want to know what’s in this box.”

  Crap! “It’s … .”

  “I already told you it’s tampons,” Aunt Tillie said, cutting me off. “Why do you always have to stick your nose in stuff that’s none of your concern?”

  “Because you keep doing illegal things,” Landon shot back, nonplussed. “I know there aren’t tampons in there. I also know you only said that because you think I’m afraid of tampons. Here’s a tip: Only boys under the age of twenty are afraid of tampons.”

  Aunt Tillie wrinkled her nose, her hands on her hips as she stared him down. “Do you want me to show you the tampons?”

  Landon swallowed hard. He was pretty sure the box was tampon free, yet he was equally sure Aunt Tillie could conjure a bevy of female hygiene products if she felt like it. Aunt Tillie can make almost anyone back down. Landon is one of the few exceptions. “Show me.”

  Aunt Tillie sighed. “You asked for it.”

  “Wait!”

  Landon glanced at me, feigning patience. “Yes, Bay.”

  “She’s got wine in the box and she’s trying to get me to load it into her truck so she can sell it at the festival this weekend,” I blurted out. “She doesn’t want you to know because you’ll try to confiscate it. I really hope you don’t do that, though, because I can’t spend another weekend trapped in a book.”

  Landon nodded. “I had a feeling that’s what was in the box.” I watched him as he considered how to proceed. The last time he tried to stop Aunt Tillie from hawking her homemade wine she cursed us into a book of fairy tales. No one wanted to go through that ordeal again.

  “That’s my wine,” Aunt Tillie said. “I can sell it if I want to.”

  “Fine,” Landon said, giving in as he bent over and hoisted the box off the ground. He moved toward the front door and I hurried around him to push it open.

  Aunt Tillie and I followed him down the driveway, watching as he pushed the box into the bed of Aunt Tillie’s pickup truck and latched the tailgate in place. When he turned, he seemed surprised to find us right behind him.

  “That’s it?” Aunt Tillie cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not going to fight me on this?”

  “I’m not going to fight you on it,” Landon conceded, pulling me in for a hug. “I did miss you this week, Bay.” He gave me a quick kiss and then moved back toward the inn.

  Aunt Tillie scampered after him. “I’m going to sell it.”

  “I don’t care.” Landon linked his fingers with mine. “What’s for dinner tonight? I’m starving.”

  “They’re making kebabs, rice, hummus and some other stuff,” I answered, waiting for him to blow. He was too calm. He was never this calm.

  “That sounds good.”

  “I’m going to sell it and make a lot of money,” Aunt Tillie called to his back. “Then I’m going to roll around in it naked.”

  Landon sighed. “I don’t care what you do with the money,” he said. “If you’re going to roll around naked in it, though, make sure you give us notice. I don’t want to see that. I’ll have nightmares.”

  “Why aren’t you fighting her on this?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  “I don’t want to get trapped in a book, and I figure if she’s selling alcohol at the town festival that doesn’t fall under the purview of the FBI,” Landon replied. “That’s Chief Terry’s problem. I have a three-day weekend ahead of me and I’m not getting involved in any of this crap. I want to relax, eat and spend time with you. That’s all I want to do.”

  Landon is handsome in everyday circumstances, but when he’s romantic and sweet he doubles his appeal. “That’s sounds nice,” I said.

  “Nothing is going to ruin this weekend,” Landon said, leading me up the steps and pulling up short when my mother appeared in the doorway. Her face was white and she clutched her hands together. “Yeah, I think I just jinxed us.”

  I had a feeling he was right. “What’s wrong? Aunt Tillie has been with me. She couldn’t possibly have done something terrible.” I shot Aunt Tillie a worried look. “You haven’t, right?”

  Aunt Tillie scowled. “When are you going to learn that I can do anything I set my mind to, including being in two places at once? That being said, I haven’t done anything bad in weeks.”

  Landon arched a challenging eyebrow.

  “Fine! I haven’t done anything bad today,” Aunt Tillie conceded. “What’s wrong, Winnie?”

  Mom is generally good under pressure. She takes on all of life’s little oddities – and Aunt Tillie’s big transgressions – with an air of confidence and calm I often admire. She looked positively apoplectic, though.

  “We got a call a little bit ago,” Mom said, hopping from one foot to the other. “I … well … we have two guests who will be arriving for ten whole days starting tomorrow.”

  “The way you’re acting you’d think it was one of those oasis buggers over in the Middle East,” Aunt Tillie replied, already bored with the conversation. “If that’s the case, don’t worry. I’m sure I can handle them.”

  “ISIS, not oasis,” I corrected.

  “It’s worse than that,” Mom said.

  What’s worse than that? “Mom, you’re starting to worry me,” I said. “What’s wrong? Who’s coming?”

  “Aunt Tillie, you’re really not going to like this,” Mom said.

  “Then you should’ve told them they can’t come,” Aunt Tillie replied. She wasn’t showing signs of being particularly bothered by Mom’s worrywart nature. “Stop being dramatic. Who is it?”

  “Aunt Willa and Rosemary are coming to town for the festival, and they’re staying here,” Mom said. “I felt caught and I told them it was fine. I’m sorry. I … .”

  For a moment, it was as if all of the oxygen had been sucked from the Earth’s atmosphere and we were about to implode. Then Aunt Tillie broke the spell and erupted.

  “Over my dead body!”

  Two

  “Aunt Tillie, you need to calm down.” Mom was atwitter with nervous energy. “Pitching a fit won’t help matters.”

  “Says you.” Aunt Tillie stalked toward Mom, but Landon snagged the back of her shirt and hauled her back before she could get close enough to slip her hands around Mom’s neck and start s
queezing.

  “Tell me why this is such a big deal,” Landon instructed, refusing to release Aunt Tillie’s shirt even as she bucked and yanked against his efforts.

  “Let me go!”

  Landon ignored her. “Is this the same cousin and aunt we met in the horrible fairy tale world?”

  I nodded. “Aunt Willa is Aunt Tillie’s sister.”

  “She’s the devil’s seed!” Aunt Tillie howled. “I can’t believe you invited that woman to my house!”

  “Aunt Tillie, she asked.” Mom couldn’t stop fidgeting. “She was very pleasant on the phone. She said she wanted Rosemary to see Hemlock Cove – although she keeps referring to it as Walkerville – and I didn’t see the harm.”

  “You mean you were spineless and refused to tell her where to stuff it,” Aunt Tillie countered, furious as she finally managed to yank her shirt from Landon’s grip. “I’m going to smite her to within an inch of her life.”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Mom argued, regaining some of her composure. “Aunt Willa and Rosemary are taking only one room. That’s all we had. I hoped the idea of sharing a room would be enough to dissuade her, but it wasn’t.

  “It doesn’t matter, though,” she continued. “We have other guests at the inn. You cannot pick a fight with Aunt Willa when we have guests. I won’t allow it.”

  Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes. She wasn’t afraid of my mother. Well, she wasn’t afraid of my mother most of the time. My mom is terrifying in her own right when she wants to dig in her heels. Aunt Tillie suddenly becomes judicious in picking her battles when that happens. I had a feeling she was going to pick this battle to win.

  “What’s going on?” Thistle asked, popping through the open doorway with her boyfriend Marcus close on her heels, the sun glinting off her purple hair. “What did Aunt Tillie do now?”

  “Listen, fresh mouth, this has nothing to do with you, so you’d better shut it,” Aunt Tillie snapped.

  Thistle made a face. “Who slipped meth in your Cheerios this morning?”

  “Aunt Tillie just found out that Aunt Willa and Rosemary are coming for a visit,” I explained, leaning into Landon as he slipped an arm over my shoulders. He couldn’t fathom why everyone was freaking out, but he knew when the Winchester witches were about to run off the rails and he was already preparing himself. “They’re going to be here for ten days.”

  “Oh, gross,” Thistle said. “Well, I take back what I just said. I’m with Aunt Tillie on this one.”

  Mom scowled. “Since when are you on Aunt Tillie’s side? After she cursed you into the book, you vowed never to be on her side again.”

  “Things change,” Thistle replied dryly. “I can’t stand Rosemary. She’s a righteous little snot.”

  “She’s not a kid anymore,” I reminded her. “She’s probably a righteous big snot now.”

  “Who is Rosemary and why does that name sound familiar?” Marcus asked, his handsome face devoid of the horror infiltrating the rest of us.

  “She’s our second-cousin,” Thistle explained. “Her mother, Nettie, is our mothers’ cousin. Her grandmother is Aunt Tillie’s sister. They’re all real jerks. Aunt Tillie turned them into villains in her fairy tale world.”

  “Ah. Now I remember.”

  “Now, Thistle, we don’t know that they’re still jerks,” Mom chided. “We haven’t seen Rosemary since she was a girl.”

  “Yeah, at the summer camp from hell,” Thistle said. “Do you remember what happened at that summer camp?”

  “Yes, and we’re not speaking about it,” Mom hissed. “You’re not helping matters.”

  “I remember what happened,” Aunt Tillie said. “I told my sister I never wanted to see her stupid face again. In fact, I’ve told her that so many times I’ve lost count. Still, I was really firm that time. How dare she come back here!”

  “You also cursed Rosemary with a spell that made her break out,” Thistle said, smiling at the memory. “I loved that spell.”

  “Well, we’ll do something worse this time,” Aunt Tillie said, huffily climbing the steps. “I cannot believe you invited that woman into my house. Don’t you remember what she tried to do?”

  “I do remember,” Mom said, choosing her words carefully. “I know you’ve never gotten along with Aunt Willa – and I don’t blame you for hating her – but she’s still family. Have you ever considered the possibility that she might want to make amends?”

  “You’re so naïve.”

  “Aunt Tillie, I’m sorry you’re upset,” Mom said, changing tactics. “We’re adults now, though. Aunt Willa can’t warp us to her way of thinking. I know you were worried about that back then.

  “No matter what – not then or now – could Aunt Willa make us stop loving you,” she continued. “You were always there for us. We’re loyal to you.”

  “If you were loyal to me you wouldn’t have invited that hag into my house,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “Don’t kid yourself. She’s not coming back here to get to know you and your girls. I’m sure that’s what she told you, but it’s not true.”

  Mom bit her lip and I could tell that Aunt Tillie hit that particular nail on the head with a sledgehammer.

  “She’s not coming back because she cares about any of you,” Aunt Tillie seethed. “She’s coming back because she wants something.”

  “What?” Landon asked.

  “To drive me crazy!” Aunt Tillie flounced into the inn, a little thought bubble filled with mayhem practically dancing over her head.

  Landon glanced at me. “I think that’s going to be a short trip.”

  “I think you’re right,” I muttered.

  “SO, do you want to tell me what all the hoopla is about?”

  Landon held my hand as we leisurely strolled back to the guesthouse after an uncomfortable dinner. Since most of the newly arrived guests heard all about Winchester dinner theater from earlier guests, they thought Aunt Tillie’s attitude was part of the show. That was the only bright spot of an otherwise dismal meal.

  “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “We have all night, Bay,” Landon replied. “I would like to know what I’m in for since these people are arriving before dinner tomorrow. I have a feeling they’re going to ruin my weekend.”

  I frowned. That was another bombshell my mother dropped right before we left The Overlook. We were expected to be at the inn before breakfast the following morning to discuss how to welcome Aunt Willa and Rosemary with fake open arms. Apparently my mother and aunts were going all out to make them feel welcome.

  “I don’t really know Aunt Willa,” I admitted. “I think I’ve seen her three times my entire life – and not one of those visits was pretty. She and Aunt Tillie truly hate each other. It’s not like when Clove, Thistle and I swear that the others are dead to us when we’re upset. This is true hate – actual malevolence.”

  “Is Willa older or younger?”

  “She’s the youngest in the family,” I replied. “If you believe Aunt Tillie, that’s why Aunt Willa acts entitled and is altogether unbearable.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t remember her being nice,” I answered. “She’s kind of one of those relatives who lives in memory shadows. I remember her face … and I remember her being cold … but I really don’t have distinctive memories of her.”

  “Why does Aunt Tillie hate her so much?”

  “There are a lot of rumors regarding that,” I said. “According to Aunt Tillie, her sister came out of the womb warped and depraved. Apparently Aunt Tillie and Aunt Willa always fought, and my grandmother was the buffer between them.”

  “I was under the impression that your grandmother and Aunt Tillie were close.”

  “They were,” I said, stopping along the path that led to the guesthouse to stare at the sky. It was a beautiful night, even if the humidity from earlier remained. “My grandmother was the middle child, so she was kind of the peacekeeper. She and Aunt Tillie were close. I gu
ess she refused to completely cut Aunt Willa out of her life like Aunt Tillie did, though. She was convinced that one day they would all be one happy family.”

  “That doesn’t sound likely given what I’ve heard about Willa,” Landon said. “When did things really go sour?”

  “If you believe the family gossip – which I kind of do in this case – Aunt Willa went after Uncle Calvin when Aunt Tillie was dating him,” I explained. “Apparently she threw herself at him, and Aunt Tillie caught her.”

  “And she’s still alive?”

  “I think it got ugly,” I replied. “Aunt Willa left Walkerville – which is what Hemlock Cove used to be known as – right after graduation. She met some guy and married him. To this day I’ve never met him. She had one daughter named Nettie, and she spent most of her time south of us.

  “When we were growing up, Aunt Tillie would tell us horrible stories about Aunt Willa,” I continued. “We thought she was some sort of boogeyman until Mom set us straight and told us she was just a really terrible person and not some magical monster as Aunt Tillie painted her.”

  Landon snorted. “Aunt Tillie does have a way of making people see what she wants them to see.”

  “I think the real problem was that Aunt Willa showed up and tried to take Mom, Marnie and Twila away from Aunt Tillie after my grandmother died,” I said. “Mom was already an adult and Marnie was really close to adulthood. When Aunt Willa realized she could never get her hands on them, she threatened to go after Twila.”

  Landon was taken aback. “She wanted to separate them right after their mother died?”

  I nodded. “She threatened to take the matter to court, but Aunt Tillie warned her that Grandma tied up all of their inheritance in trusts that no one could touch. They didn’t get the money until they were twenty-five.

  “Aunt Willa thought Aunt Tillie was getting money for taking them in,” I continued. “When she found out Aunt Tillie got the property instead and planned to use her own money to take care of everyone, she immediately backed down and left Twila with Aunt Tillie.”