A Witchmas Carol Read online

  He wasn’t wrong, but still … . “I’m not sure I realized that I wanted to spend it with them until right now. I was all for the alone time when I suggested it, but now I realize it was a bit selfish.”

  “And I think you believed you would be ruining the Christmas holiday for me if you said anything,” Landon countered. “It’s okay. I love your family almost as much as I love you. I have no problem spending Christmas with them.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. Jeez.” Landon pulled me to him for a hug. “You’re so much work, woman.”

  “I know. I don’t mean to be.”

  “I think you do, but there’s absolutely nothing to fight about.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Aunt Tillie has already made her point. We can wake up from this nightmare before it really gets started. I think that’s progress, don’t you? It took us forever to work our way through the fairy tale world … and hours to work through Aunt Tillie’s memories. We worked through this one in ten minutes. We should get an award.”

  I chuckled at the way he puffed out his chest. “Hopefully this will all fall away really soon.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  I recognized Aunt Tillie’s voice right away and spun around, widening my eyes when I saw her standing on the staircase. She was dressed in an elf costume – complete with curled-toe shoes – and her smile was serene.

  “We get it,” I said, mustering a smile. “We’ll be there for Christmas breakfast.”

  “Bright and early,” Landon added. “We’re looking forward to it.”

  “You can send us home now,” I said hopefully.

  “Oh, so sweet and cute.” Aunt Tillie beamed, her smile lighting up her face. Then she shifted and the corners of her mouth fell. “Now pull your heads out of your behinds, because nothing is that easy. You’re just getting started, kids.”

  Landon groaned. “I just knew it wouldn’t be that easy.”

  Aunt Tillie sarcastically mock applauded. “Hey, you’re smarter than you look. Of course, that would have to be a given, wouldn’t it?”

  “Oh, man.” Landon slapped his hand to his forehead. “Here we go again.”

  Christmas is my favorite time of year because it’s all about family. Actually, that’s what normal people say about the holidays. We’re talking about people who don’t have to live in this family. Christmas is still my favorite time of year, don’t get me wrong, but there are times I could take or leave my family.

  – Winnie when Thistle starts complaining about this year’s choice of Christmas cookies

  Four

  “What’s your angle?”

  Landon crossed his arms over his chest, doing his best to look tough. He was still dressed in the worst Christmas pajamas ever, so his “bad boy” attitude lost a bit in translation. I didn’t bother pointing that out.

  “What makes you think I have an angle?” Aunt Tillie adopted the innocent expression she reserved for when the Michigan State Police showed up on our doorstep once a year to question her about rumors regarding an alleged pot field on our property.

  “Because you always have an angle,” Landon replied. “We just told you that we’ve learned our lesson. We want to be with the family for Christmas. Despite this … whatever it is … that includes you. We don’t need to be manipulated further.”

  “I don’t manipulate people.”

  Landon and I snorted in unison.

  “I don’t,” Aunt Tillie pressed. “I’m a live-and-let-live sort of person. Manipulation is beneath me.”

  “Since when?” I challenged.

  “Since forever. Apparently you don’t remember what Christmas was like before me, before I graced you with my benevolent light. I clearly need to remind you.”

  Landon craned his neck, making a big show of looking around the room.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Looking for the television cameras,” Landon replied. “We’re very clearly being set up for a bad reality show.”

  “Oh, puh-leez.” Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes. “If I wanted to embarrass you I wouldn’t need a camera.”

  Sadly, I knew she was right. Still, Christmas was Aunt Tillie’s favorite time of year. You could never describe the woman as a giant marshmallow – or even the frayed end of a Q-tip – but she softened around the holiday season. She couldn’t seem to help herself. I wanted to take advantage of that.

  “We’re really sorry.” I kept my tone light and even. “We didn’t realize how much we’d miss by cutting ourselves off for Christmas. You have to know that we weren’t doing it out of malice. We just wanted a … magical day.”

  “Oh, you’re going to get one.” Aunt Tillie smiled as the grandfather clock in the corner chimed. “You two should really get ready. It’s almost time for dinner.”

  I knit my eyebrows, confused. “It’s morning. We just woke up.”

  “No, it’s noon.” Aunt Tillie pointed at the clock for emphasis.

  She was right. Both hands rested on the twelve. “Is this a dream?”

  “I don’t deal in dreams.”

  “No, but you’re not above manipulating them.”

  “I just told you that I don’t manipulate people!” Aunt Tillie’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Are you purposely trying to irritate me?”

  “Not really, but I am curious why we’re the only ones here,” I admitted. “Why aren’t Clove and Thistle here? They made plans to stay at home Christmas Day, too.”

  “Don’t you worry about what Clove and Thistle are doing,” Aunt Tillie ordered. “They’re having their own adventures.”

  “Like we are?”

  “Let’s just say I tailored something special for both of them and leave it at that,” Aunt Tillie suggested. “Their transgressions were different from yours.”

  “Transgressions?” My eyebrows flew up my forehead. “What transgressions? We made a mistake. We told you that we’re sorry. We’ve learned the lesson you wanted us to learn. Why can’t we be done?”

  “Because this was never about learning a lesson.”

  “Then what was it about?”

  “Punishment.” Aunt Tillie’s smile was smug. “You need to learn what happens when you hurt my feelings.”

  “Oh, geez. I don’t like the sound of this.” Landon pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at the ceiling. “Can’t you just curse Bay to smell like bacon and punish her that way? That’s a very effective punishment.”

  “That’s a reward for you,” Aunt Tillie countered. “I blame you for this situation, so there’s no way I’m going to reward you.”

  “I didn’t know Christmas was such a big deal for you,” Landon argued. “I wasn’t trying to be difficult. Heck, I wasn’t trying to be mean. Believe it or not, the last thing I want to do is hurt your feelings.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Aunt Tillie was obstinate on a good day. Apparently today she was bound and determined to set a record for ticket prices on the stubborn subway.

  Landon opened his mouth to respond, but I rested my hand on his arm to still him. Arguing would only force her to dig her heels in. We needed to approach her in a different manner. “What do you want us to do?”

  “Participate.”

  “In what? Dinner?”

  Aunt Tillie nodded. “It won’t be just dinner, of course. But it’s a nice start.”

  “Okay, fine. We’ll have dinner with you.”

  “Great.” Aunt Tillie’s smile was back in place. “You’ll need to change first.”

  “Why? Is someone else coming to dinner?”

  Aunt Tillie nodded. “Numerous other people.”

  “Okay, well … we have nothing to change into.”

  “I’ll fix that.” Aunt Tillie’s eyes gleamed as she snapped her fingers. Miraculously, Landon and I found ourselves wearing different outfits. They were even more hideous than the garish pajamas we wore mere seconds before.

  “Oh, man.” Landon tugged on his ugly Christmas sweater. I
t was easy because Rudolph’s head was huge and the nose, which was dead center on his chest, actually protruded in a little nubbin. “Are you trying to make me suffer?”

  “I just consider it an added bonus,” Aunt Tillie replied. She’d changed, too, although her outfit was much nicer. She wore a burgundy dress and a set of pearls I knew Uncle Calvin – her late husband – had bought her.

  “Why do you get to look nice and we look like morons?” I asked, glaring at the ugly cardigan she forced on me. It was bright red and boasted a herd of frolicking cats. I hate the color red, although I have no idea why. As for the cats? They looked a bit demented, possibly possessed, and keen to take over the world when they thought no one was looking.

  “Perhaps it’s part of your punishment,” Aunt Tillie suggested, clapping her hands when the doorbell rang. “Our guests are here.”

  I watched her scamper across the room, my emotions vacillating wildly. “Who is here?”

  “You are.”

  “Me?”

  “And your mother and father.”

  My stomach jolted at the words. “This is a Christmas memory from before my dad left?” I couldn’t help being intrigued. “That must be why I don’t remember it.”

  “What happens when they see us?” Landon asked. “I mean … will they be able to see us? Last time we were trapped in your memory certain people could see us and others couldn’t. Will it be like that?”

  “No, because you’re not trapped in my memory.” Aunt Tillie stopped in front of a mirror to check her reflection. “This is real.”

  She said the words, but her magical clothes-changing trick seemed to indicate otherwise. “This doesn’t feel real.”

  “Give it time.” Aunt Tillie plastered a wide smile on her face before pulling open the door. “Merry Christmas!”

  The couple standing on the other side of the door looked anything but merry. In fact, Mom and Dad looked downright miserable. Despite that fact, Mom greeted Aunt Tillie with a wide hug while Dad slid around her and led a younger version of me inside.

  “Look at you.” Landon smiled at the little girl in the bright Christmas dress. She had bouncing blonde curls and black dress shoes. “How cute were you?”

  I didn’t particularly find the outfit cute. The solemn look on my face was even less cute. “I don’t remember this,” I murmured.

  “Well, then it will be fun for both of us,” Landon said. “It might be an entertaining diversion.”

  “That’s not what you said a few minutes ago,” I reminded him.

  “Yes, well, these side jaunts Aunt Tillie keeps sending us on make me feel as if I’m on an emotional rollercoaster. I can’t always help it.”

  I didn’t blame him.

  “We’re a little early, but I brought pies,” Mom said, drawing my attention to her and Aunt Tillie. “We’re so excited to spend Christmas with you.”

  “I’ll bet.” Aunt Tillie’s smile slipped as she focused on Dad. “And how are you, Jack?”

  “Thrilled with life,” Dad deadpanned, releasing little Bay’s hand as he reached for the television remote. “Can’t you tell?”

  “Jack.” Mom’s voice was full of warning. “We talked about this. We’re not doing this in front of Bay.”

  I pursed my lips as I focused on the little girl, who very clearly didn’t miss the harsh exchange. “They always said that. They weren’t going to fight in front of me, but they always did. They didn’t realize that fighting about fighting was still fighting.”

  “It must be hard for you,” Landon noted. “You said you don’t really remember Christmases before you moved in with Aunt Tillie. This doesn’t seem like a happy one.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” I hedged. “I remembered bits and pieces. I don’t remember this particular moment, but I remember a few things from my last Christmas with them as a married couple. It wasn’t exactly a good Christmas, even though they went out of their way to pretend otherwise.”

  “Was that before or after this?”

  “Before, at least I think. I remember getting up and having a really good morning. At the time, I didn’t realize what the blanket on the couch meant. I thought Dad was simply up early because he was excited for Christmas.”

  “Ah.” Landon ran his hand over my back. “They were already gearing up for a separation. They didn’t want to ruin your Christmas.”

  “Pretty much.”

  Mom and Dad continued to snipe at each other on the main floor as little Bay wandered through the room. Instead of stopping at the tree, as I expected, she moved to the bottom of the stairs and looked up. Her eyes locked with mine, and for a moment I thought I caught a glimpse of recognition on her face. It was gone before I could be sure.

  “Who are you?”

  I guess that answered that question. If little Bay could see us, that meant Mom and Dad could, too.

  “I didn’t realize we were having guests,” Mom said, dragging her attention from Dad and focusing on Landon and me. She clearly didn’t recognize me either, because the smile she pasted on her face was friendly and yet still remote. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced.”

  “These are cousins,” Aunt Tillie supplied, pinning me with a hard look. She practically dared me to tell Mom the truth and make things worse. “This is Daryl and Carol.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from making a face. Daryl and Carol? Now she was just messing with us.

  “And you’re cousins?” Mom didn’t look convinced.

  “They are,” Aunt Tillie confirmed. “Very distant cousins.”

  “Oh, from the Upper Peninsula?” Mom wrinkled her nose as she forced a grim smile.

  Now Landon didn’t realize it, but that was an insult. For years growing up, my cousins and I were inundated with stories about the loons living in the Upper Peninsula. To hear Aunt Tillie tell it, they ate raw meat off the bone, wandered around in public naked, and occasionally had sex with relatives to the point where they were dangerously close to running out of limbs on the family tree. We had no idea what that meant at the time. Once we grew older we were understandably intrigued – until we met them at one solstice celebration and realized the stories were not only true, but also woefully underplayed.

  “We’re not from the Upper Peninsula,” I replied hurriedly. “We’re from … Detroit.”

  That wasn’t much better in Mom’s book – and her expression reflected just that – but she didn’t panic and grab little Bay in an attempt to shield her, so I figured it would be okay.

  “Oh, well, that’s nice.” Mom’s smile never wavered, but she quickly lost interest in me. “I’ll help you in the kitchen, Aunt Tillie. Marnie and Twila should be here any second to help, too.”

  “Sure.” Aunt Tillie cast me a look as Landon and I stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Do you know why you’re here?”

  “Yes.” I nodded without hesitation. “You want me to remember how miserable our Christmas was before you swooped in and saved us. I remember. Can we move on?”

  “Not quite yet.” Aunt Tillie cast a pointed look in little Bay’s direction. “She’s not ready for you to go.”

  “She’s not ready?”

  “You heard what I said.”

  I heaved a sigh. “Fine.” I moved in little Bay’s direction but stopped before Aunt Tillie could put too much distance between us. “By the way … Daryl and Carol?”

  Aunt Tillie shrugged, her mischievous smile back. “There was a marathon on last weekend.”

  “I know but … .”

  “It’s fine,” Landon said, grabbing my hand. “I always fancied myself Daryl anyway.”

  Aunt Tillie made a derisive sound in the back of her throat. “In your dreams.”

  I shook my head as I watched her go. She was enjoying this. That much was obvious. It wasn’t like before, when she was tortured by memories. She was purposely inflicting this on us … and loving every second of it.

  “She’s freaking evil,” I muttered.

>   “I don’t think that’s the way to make it through this,” Landon pointed out. “She clearly wants us to talk to you.”

  I slid him a sidelong look. “You just like seeing me when I was little.”

  “I do, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise,” Landon said. “I like you at this age. It’s when we run into your teenage self and you’re still warm for my form that things get uncomfortable.”

  He had a point.

  I didn’t bother to hide my disdain for Dad when he made a groaning noise as he flipped up the foot stool on the chair and flicked between television stations rather than engage in conversation with little Bay. Granted, it wasn’t as if he was being neglectful. In fact, what memories I had of that period proved him to be a fairly devoted father. The neglect didn’t start until he moved away.

  “Hey there, little missy.” Landon offered up a charming smile for little Bay’s benefit as we sat on the couch on the other side of the room. “Have you had a good Christmas?”

  The other Bay nodded, her big blue eyes solemn. “Santa came.”

  “I bet he did.” Landon slipped one of the girl’s curls behind her ear. It was weird thinking of her as another entity, but it was even weirder to think of her as me. “What did you get?”

  “I didn’t get a dog.” Younger Bay looked sad when she made the announcement. “I thought I was going to get one, but … no.”

  “That’s too bad,” Landon said. “I’m sure you’ll get one soon.”

  “I am, too,” I supplied. “In fact, I’ll bet you get a really great dog next year. The reason you couldn’t get it this year is because the perfect dog for you hasn’t been born yet.”

  Bay looked intrigued by the notion. “Do you really think so?”

  I nodded. “I know so.”

  “Well, that’s good. It makes me feel better.” Even though she didn’t know him, Bay climbed on the couch and settled next to Landon. She appeared perfectly comfortable in his company. “What did Santa bring you?”

  “Oh, well … .” Landon looked to me for help.