All My Witches (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Book 5) Page 20
Landon shrugged. “It feels that way right now. I’m sure there are worse things in the world, though.”
“Like?”
“Like you refusing to let me enjoy my morning and asking an endless series of questions.”
“And if I stop talking?”
“I’ll love you forever.”
“I thought that was already a given.”
“It is, but I’ll totally share my bacon with you if you shut up now.”
I mimed zipping my lips.
“Finally.” Landon’s smile threatened to swallow his entire face. “Now this is how I want to spend my day.”
LANDON WAS IN A POSITIVELY chipper mood when we hit the main floor. I smelled my mother’s famous blueberry pancakes from three rooms away, the heavenly scent causing my stomach to rumble in appreciation.
“I am officially starving,” I announced. “I feel as if I haven’t eaten in days.”
“That’s because we were trapped in the purgatory that is soap land for what felt like weeks.” Landon slung an arm around my shoulders. “I’m back in heaven now.”
I snickered. “I was just thinking that the pancakes smelled heavenly. I guess we’re on the same wavelength.”
“I was talking about spending time with you.”
My cheeks burned as pleasure shot through me. “You don’t have to lay it on so thick. I have every intention of spending the afternoon with you.”
“I’m not laying it on thick. I mean it.”
“Well … thank you.”
“You can thank me later. For now, let’s eat those freaking pancakes. Oh, and there’d better be bacon.”
We were almost to the kitchen, happiness oozing from us, when I heard a loud voice in the dining room. I recognized Thistle’s dulcet tones from the foyer. She didn’t sound happy.
“Don’t even think about running away from me, old lady!”
Landon and I exchanged a look before pushing open the swinging door that led to the dining room. If we thought we would get out of The Overlook without running into trouble, we were sadly mistaken. Or stupid. I was leaning toward stupid.
Aunt Tillie sat in her regular chair at the end of the table. She didn’t look particularly perturbed by Thistle’s tone, but her expression was largely unreadable.
“What’s going on?” I asked, understandably wary. “Is everything okay?”
Chief Terry sat in a center chair sipping a mug of coffee. He looked a little worse for wear, apparently his hangover raging, but the look he shot me was blasé. I felt sorry for him … but also thankful for myself.
“Thistle just stormed into the room and attacked Tillie,” Chief Terry explained. “She seems upset.”
“I think she had a bad dream or something,” Twila added, pressing a mug of coffee into my hand. “You don’t look so bad given how much you drank last night. In fact, you look pretty together. I’m surprised.”
“That makes two of us.” I slid a sidelong look to Aunt Tillie and found her watching me with unveiled interest. “I also think we all shared the same bad dream.”
Mom, who was walking through the door that separated the kitchen and dining room, pulled up short. She balanced the platter of pancakes and bacon she carried against her chest as she eyed me. “What do you mean by that?”
“Do you want to tell her, Aunt Tillie, or should I?”
Aunt Tillie wasn’t much for threats, and she clearly wasn’t worried about this potential bomb detonating. In fact, she looked eager for it to happen. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she lied.
“Oh, really, Alexis Kane?” Landon cocked an eyebrow as he sat, opting for the chair next to her so I wouldn’t take it and potentially launch the family into all-out war. “I have trouble believing that.”
“That’s probably because you’re slow,” Aunt Tillie said. “Oh, and ‘The Man.’ That makes you naturally suspicious and often unpleasant. It’s a shortcoming. I hope you overcome it eventually.”
Mom set the platter on the middle of the table and heaved a sigh only a mother sick of fighting offspring could muster. Since Aunt Tillie was often like a fourth child in the family – one no one wanted to claim – that wasn’t too far out of the realm of possibility.
“What did you do?”
“Yes, Bay, what did you do?” Aunt Tillie teased.
“I was talking to you, Aunt Tillie.” Mom was now idling at low boil. “I can tell by Thistle, Landon and Bay’s reactions that you did something obnoxious. I’m almost afraid to know what it is.”
“Do you want to know what I think?” Aunt Tillie challenged.
“Not even a little.”
“Well, I’m going to tell you anyway,” Aunt Tillie continued. “I think that Thistle likes to talk to hear herself talk. As for these two … they’ve got dirty minds. They want to eat breakfast and then head back to the guesthouse so they can do dirty things.”
Landon didn’t appear bothered by the claim, though I was a bit uneasy because Mom was watching me with the same look she reserved for mice that managed to sneak into the pantry.
“We’re planning a day of love in the afternoon,” Landon supplied, spearing two pancakes with his fork and moving them to his plate. “You know all about love in the afternoon, don’t you, Aunt Tillie?”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Aunt Tillie’s tone was icy. “If you want to turn this into a thing, perhaps we should take it into the next room. How does that sound?”
“Like absolutely nothing I want to do,” Landon replied. “I don’t want to talk about what happened last night ever again – at least not with you – and I want to focus on breakfast because I’m positively starving.”
“All right, that did it.” Mom rested her hands on the table and stared down Aunt Tillie. “What did you do?”
“Why do you assume I did anything?”
“Because I’ve known you my entire life.”
“Yes. I believe I raised you,” Aunt Tillie sniffed. “I raised you, gave of myself while thinking of only your welfare, and this is the thanks I get. My own flesh and blood is calling me a liar. It’s a terrible day in the Winchester household when this happens. I’m shocked. Shocked, I tell you.”
“What is with the theatrics?” Mom was utterly confused. “It’s almost as if you’re on a soap opera or something.”
“Imagine that,” I intoned. “A soap opera.”
“Hey, soap operas are just like real life,” Aunt Tillie said. “They’re merely heightened a bit for entertainment value.”
“Like say … slapping a polar bear or getting a brain transplant, right?” Landon slid two slices of bacon onto my plate. “Or constantly being slapped across the face and ending up shirtless.”
“Or ending up as a vampire by night and a judge by day,” I added, smiling at Chief Terry.
“Hey, those are great stories.” Aunt Tillie bit into a slice of toast. “Soap operas make the world a better place. I’ve always believed that.”
“You also seem to believe Bay is the leading lady and I’m a supporting player,” Thistle barked, clenching her hands into fists at her sides. “We’re about to have a really long talk about that. In fact, you’d better get comfortable.”
I looked to Landon and found him staring at me. “This breakfast isn’t turning out as we planned.”
“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “How would you feel about skipping breakfast and wading through a foot of snow to get home so I can warm you up there?”
“I’m okay with that. But, we don’t have any bacon at the guesthouse.”
Landon glanced at the bacon on the platter and shrugged. “I’m fine with that.” He held out a hand and helped me to my feet, ignoring the way Aunt Tillie growled at Thistle.
“If you want to be the leading lady, mouth, then you have to stop acting like the sarcastic sidekick,” Aunt Tillie snapped.
“You’re sarcastic and still get to be the leading lady.”
“That’s bec
ause I’m in a category all my own.”
“You definitely are,” I agreed, watching as Landon detoured back to the table long enough to grab a slice of bacon before directing me toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Chief Terry asked.
“We’re spending the day at home in front of the television,” Landon offered. “We’re watching Netflix, drinking hot chocolate and doing absolutely nothing else.”
“That seems like a long walk in the snow,” Mom said pragmatically. “You can stay here if you want.”
“It does seem like a long walk,” Landon agreed, breaking the bacon slice in half and handing me the bigger piece. “But something tells me it’s going to be worth it.”
“Hey, I’m not done making Aunt Tillie pay,” Thistle called to our backs. “You don’t want to miss what’s to come.”
“We’re not missing anything,” I said. “We’re simply going to spend the day telling our own story.”
“And it’s going to be better than your story,” Landon teased.
“Oh, just you wait,” Thistle said. “My story is going to be epic – and so is your punishment, old lady. You’d better start running now!”
We left them to their fight. It wouldn’t end. We knew that. It was a soap opera, after all. The story there – much like Thistle and Aunt Tillie’s fight – was never meant to end.
It wasn’t such a bad thing – once you discounted the polar bear, of course.
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About the Author
I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read my novels. I have a particular brand of humor that isn’t for everyone – and I know that.
If you liked the book, please take a few minutes and leave a review. An independent author does it all on their own, and the reviews are helpful. I understand that my characters aren’t for everyone, though. There’s a lot of snark and sarcasm in my world – and I know some people don’t like that.
Special thanks go out to Heidi Bitsoli and Phil VanHulle for correcting the (numerous) errors that creep into a work of fiction.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Books by Amanda M. Lee
An Avery Shaw Mystery
Who, What, Where, When, Die
If it Bleeds, it Leads
Buried Leads
Shot Off The Presses
The Preditorial Page
Misquoted & Demoted
Headlines & Deadlines
Misprints & Mistakes
Bylines & Skylines
Off the Record
Unwritten & Underwater
A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery
Any Witch Way You Can
Every Witch Way But Wicked
Witching You Were Here
Witching on a Star
Something to Witch About
Witch Me Luck
Life’s a Witch
Charms & Witchdemeanors
The Trouble With Witches
Murder Most Witchy
A Witch Before Dying
A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short
Careful What You Witch For
Wicked Brew
On a Witch and a Prayer
You Only Witch Once
The Christmas Witch
Bewitched
A Solstice Celebration
Witchdependence Day
Happy Witchgiving
Merry Witchmas
Four-Leaf Clover
Thistle While You Work
Landon Calling
I Dream of Twila
How Aunt Tillie Stole Christmas
A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy
Witchy Tales
A Witch In Time
Make A Witch
A Witchmas Carol
An Aisling Grimlock Mystery
Grim Tidings
Grim Offerings
Grim Discovery
Grim Reunion
Grim Expectations
Grim Holiday
Grim Rising
Covenant College
Awakening
Whispering
Conjuring
Waxing & Waning
Graduating
Living Covenant Trilogy
Rising Covenant
Dark Covenant
Eternal Covenant
Dying Covenant Trilogy
Haunted Covenant
Desperate Covenant
Everlasting Covenant
A Mystic Caravan Mystery
Freaky Days
Freaky Lies
Freaky Hearts
Freaky Games
A Charlie Rhodes Cozy Mystery
The Bigfoot Blunder
The Chupacabra Catastrophe