Happy Witchgiving: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short Page 4

  I pulled up short when I caught sight of Bay’s blond head. Even though the sun was almost gone, a whisper of light remained, bouncing off her flaxen highlights and drawing my attention to bushes located at the corner of the house. Sure enough, Clove and Thistle were with her. Sugar was, too, although he was asleep at their feet as they stared into the back yard.

  I was quiet as I approached, hoping to get a line on their conversation before they noticed me. They were probably hiding from Tillie. I didn’t blame them.

  “What do you think they’re doing?” Clove whispered.

  “I think they’re scouting the house and all of the exits so they can rob us at gunpoint and make their getaway,” Thistle said. “They’ll probably shoot us before they go.”

  They definitely watch too much television, and they clearly weren’t hiding from Tillie. That left only one thing.

  “Chief Terry won’t let them shoot us,” Bay said. “They’re probably afraid now that they know he’s here. He’ll shoot them before they can shoot us. He would never let anything bad happen to us.”

  I puffed out my chest at her words. Bay’s faith warmed me even as a chill descended with the departure of the sun.

  “Chief Terry won’t shoot them,” Thistle scoffed. “They’ll kill him first. Don’t you pay any attention to the movies we watch?”

  “I try not to,” Clove said, shuddering. “That last one was terrible. That girl climbing out of the well was freaky.”

  “I thought it was freakier when she climbed out of the television,” Bay said. “It was still cool, though.”

  “I think we should watch more chick flicks,” Clove said. “Those are never scary and they never give me nightmares.”

  “They always give me nightmares,” Thistle intoned. “I mean … do you hear how whiny those chicks are? That’s the stuff of nightmares right there.”

  “They’re not whiny,” Clove protested. “That’s crap.”

  “You’re crap,” Thistle shot back.

  “You’re both crap,” Bay interjected. “Now keep your voices down. They’ll hear us if you’re not careful.”

  “And then shoot us,” Thistle added.

  Okay, I’d heard just about enough of that. I closed the rest of the distance and clamped a hand on Thistle and Clove’s shoulders. “What’s up?”

  “Holy crap!” Clove practically jumped out of her skin, swiveling quickly and slapping my hand away. The noise was enough to draw the attention of Charles and Caroline Garvey, who were sitting on the patio drinking coffee and chatting. Yeah, they looked like criminal masterminds. “Don’t do that again!”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, removing my hands. I wasn’t remotely sorry. That was kind of funny. “What are you doing?”

  Thistle, who handled the surprise better than Clove (or at least masked it better), made a face. “We were watching the bad guys in case they made a move,” she replied. “Now they know we’re here, so they’re not going to let us in on their evil plan.”

  “Yeah, you ruined it,” Clove said, wrinkling her nose. “I’m starting to think Thistle is right about you being the first to die when they attack. You might want to rethink your undercover technique.”

  I didn’t bother hiding my scowl as I shook my head. “I’m not undercover.”

  “You’re definitely not good at it,” Thistle said.

  Sugar raised her head and graced me with what looked like a doggy grin. “You’re not much of a guard dog, are you? I walked right up to these guys and you didn’t stir.”

  “He knows you,” Bay argued. “He knows you would never hurt us.”

  I wasn’t convinced, but it didn’t really matter. The girls were in no danger from me. Their great-aunt was another story. “Are you guys going to spend the whole night stalking the guests? I thought maybe you were hiding from Aunt Tillie.”

  Bay and Thistle exchanged a look – it was one I was beginning to recognize – and Thistle opted to answer. I shouldn’t have been surprised. When it comes to subterfuge, she’s the go-to liar.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Thistle said. “Why would we be hiding from Aunt Tillie?”

  “Yeah, we love her,” Clove said. She’s a terrible liar most of the time, by the way. She might be able to fool a stranger, but anyone who knows her can’t help but read the naked emotion on her face when she’s full of crap.

  “I didn’t say you didn’t love her,” I pointed out. “I said you were hiding from her.”

  “We were hiding from them,” Thistle said, jerking her thumb in the direction of the Garveys. “I know you don’t think they’re evil – and when that comes back to bite us I’m going to want an apology – but we know they are.”

  “Okay, why do you think they’re evil?” I asked. I had to be missing something. It couldn’t just be the Little House on the Prairie references. “What is your evidence?”

  “We don’t like them,” Thistle replied. “Charles grabbed my cheek and jiggled it. He said, ‘Aren’t you cute!’ I’m not cute … and I’m also not three years old.”

  I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I was sorry I missed that. The girls were trained never to backtalk guests, but that had to be an exercise in control for Thistle. “That’s it? That hardly seems like evidence that they’re evil.”

  “What about their names?” Clove pressed. “That can’t be normal.”

  “I think that’s just one of those things that happens,” I said. “Do you know how many Andy Taylors I’ve met who are cops?”

  “No.”

  “Tons.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Thistle asked, confused. “Who is Andy Taylor?”

  “From The Andy Griffith Show,” I prodded, getting three blank expressions in return. “Oh, come on. Barney Fife? Opie? Aunt Bee?” The three girls shook their heads in unison. “So you watch every horror movie under the sun but a television classic is mentioned and you draw a blank? That seems criminal.”

  “Is Aunt Bee like Aunt Tillie?” Clove asked.

  “Definitely not.”

  “Then that would be a horror show,” Thistle said, laughing. “I crack myself up.”

  “You’re the only one,” Bay said dryly.

  “Speaking of your great-aunt, why does she think you stole something from her?” I asked.

  “Oh, wow, look at the time.” Thistle glanced at her bare wrist. “We should probably get inside. We don’t want to be late for dinner.”

  “Yeah, it’s roasted chicken and potatoes,” Clove said, rubbing her stomach. “Yum!”

  “Yum, yum,” I said, bobbing my head, “but you’re not leaving until you answer the question. That trick you pulled this morning when you raced outside while your mothers were distracted was cute, but I’m not falling for it.”

  “What trick?” Clove feigned innocence. “We had a job to do and we always want to make our mothers happy. You can’t dillydally in this family. No, sir. That’s not allowed.”

  “Yes, you’re a diligent worker, Clove. I’ve never doubted that for a second.”

  “He thinks you’re lying,” Thistle said. “You laid it on too thick. You always lay it on too thick. We’ve talked about moderation. You need to remember that.”

  These kids … holy crap! How does anyone keep up with them? “What did you steal from Tillie? She seemed adamant that you stole something, although she didn’t want to tell me what.”

  “We didn’t steal anything,” Thistle said. Unlike Clove, you can never tell when she’s lying. She’s a master. “That’s a terrible thing to say. I want a lawyer.”

  “We all want lawyers,” Clove said.

  I rolled my eyes until they landed on Bay. When it came to lying, she was somewhere in the middle. She was perfectly fine lying to most people, but for some reason she drew the line at lying to me. “What did you steal, Bay?”

  “I … .” Bay’s mouth worked but she couldn’t find the words she needed. I almost felt sorry for her.

 
“They didn’t steal anything.” I jumped at Tillie’s voice behind me, glancing over my shoulder to find her detaching from the house. I had no idea how long she’d been listening.

  “You said they took something,” I pointed out. “Did you find what they took?”

  “I was … mistaken … about them taking something,” Aunt Tillie said. She’s an enigma when it comes to lies. When she commits she can sell anything. She wasn’t trying to sell this, though. She was backing up the girls, but only because she didn’t want to give me ammunition against them. It was an interesting development. “I found what I was looking for earlier.”

  I didn’t believe her. I’d known her far too long to do that. I couldn’t call her a liar on her own property, though. “Okay,” I said finally. “I guess we should go inside and get ready for dinner. Girls, Marnie said to make sure Sugar does his business before going inside.”

  “Got it,” Bay said, clapping her hands to get Sugar on his feet. She looked relieved. I figured it was because Tillie saved her from having to make a hard choice. “We’ll see you inside.”

  I watched them go, amused as they whispered and chattered as they turned the corner of the house. Then I fixed my attention on Tillie. “Why are you covering for them if they stole from you?” I was genuinely curious.

  “I never said they stole from me.” Tillie averted her eyes. “I thought I was missing something this morning, but I found it.”

  “Do you want to know what I think?”

  “Not really.”

  I plowed ahead anyway. “I think they stole a bottle of your wine,” I said. “I think they do it all the time and have turned it into something of a game. I think you don’t want to admit it because you illegally make that wine and you don’t want to get in trouble.”

  Tillie snorted, taking me by surprise. “You’re a good guy and I like you,” she said. “I’m not worried in the least that you’ll arrest me, though. You’re too fond of my nieces – and you love my grandnieces. You would never hurt them.”

  She had a point. “So what are you doing?” I prodded. “Are you saving this as more blackmail material? That’s how you got them to go into the cemetery the other night. I know it.”

  “Our family has some … peculiar … traditions,” Tillie said. “I can’t explain them in great detail because you would never understand. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I do love those girls,” I said. “I would hate if something happened to them.”

  “You worry too much,” Tillie said, slapping my arm. “They’re all destined for greatness in one form or another. Something little like a pilfered bottle of wine – and I’m not saying that’s what’s going on here in case you’re wired and ‘The Man’ is listening – won’t derail them.

  “They’re spirited girls and they like getting in trouble,” she continued. “That’s what makes them interesting.”

  “You’re a hard woman to understand, Tillie,” I said. “You make me laugh, don’t get me wrong, but even as you’re terrorizing those girls you’re also protecting them. I just don’t understand it.”

  “I love them, too.”

  “I’ve never doubted that.”

  “Loving them and letting them off the hook are two different things,” Tillie said. “I can love them and still want to mess with them. That’s the way of family. Heck, that’s the best thing about family.”

  “I guess I’ve missed out on that,” I said, my mood turning melancholy. “Maybe I don’t understand how a real family operates.”

  “Oh, that’s horse pucky,” Tillie said. “This is your family. It doesn’t matter that you’re not married to one of the older girls, you’re still the closest thing to a father those younger girls have, and every one of them loves you, no matter what they say.”

  It hurt to swallow over the lump in my throat. “I … um … .”

  “Oh, geez, don’t get mushy,” Tillie said. “You need to put your foot down when it’s important, but this isn’t important. Bay especially needs you, but don’t put her in a position where she has to choose between loyalty and you. It’s not fair to her.”

  “That’s not what I was doing,” I protested.

  “That’s not what you were purposely doing,” Tillie clarified. “You love Bay dearly. She’s your favorite.”

  “I don’t think I’m supposed to have a favorite.”

  “I have a different favorite depending on the day,” Tillie said. “Right now you’re my favorite because your heart grew about ten sizes when I mentioned the girls love you. That’s what I like about you. Just … don’t force Bay to tell the truth when you know it’s going to cause a rift between her and Thistle.

  “If it’s a big thing, I have no problem with you doing that,” she continued. “This is not a big thing.”

  “Are you sure?” I wasn’t entirely convinced.

  “I’m sure that I’ll handle the three menaces and things will be fine,” Tillie said. “Buck up. You’re here to enjoy yourself for a few days. Do that. Don’t focus on the negative stuff. That’s my job.”

  And like that, she was off. She had a little extra zip in her step as she moved to the front of the house, and I knew she was going after her grandnieces. She acted tough on the outside, but on the inside she loved all of her girls. That’s why I liked her.

  “I can feel you being schmaltzy from here,” Tillie called out. “Knock it off and hurry up. You don’t want to miss the chicken.”

  Five

  “This smells amazing.”

  I inhaled the heavenly aroma and smiled. As a bachelor, my idea of cooking is whatever I can pop in the microwave or pick up at a diner in town before going home every night. The meals I share with the Winchester family are always better, and the food is only part of that.

  “Thank you.” Winnie beamed from across the table. “I know how much you love chicken.”

  “I made the chicken,” Marnie snapped.

  “Yes, but I watched while you were doing it to make sure it was done right,” Winnie said.

  “I made the potatoes,” Twila offered, running her hand through her flame-red hair. “I added rosemary because I know how much you love it.”

  “Good grief,” Tillie muttered, shaking her head as she reached for her glass of wine. “I made a mess out in the garden shed. If anyone cares, that is.”

  Thistle made a face. “We spent half the day cleaning that.”

  “Huh, I didn’t notice.” Tillie sipped her wine. “I guess you’ll have to go back out there and do it again tomorrow, huh? Whoops.”

  “But … we just did it,” Clove whined.

  “What a complete and total bummer.” Tillie looked pleased with herself, which is never a good thing.

  Winnie narrowed her eyes as her gaze bounced between her aunt and the girls, some internal dilemma busying her mind as she decided if she wanted to get involved. Finally, she did the only thing she could. “You’ll clean it again tomorrow.”

  “That’s not fair,” Thistle snapped.

  Winnie extended a warning finger in Thistle’s direction. “We all know why it got messed up a second time. Do you want to talk about that?” Thistle pursed her lips but remained silent. “I didn’t think so. Eat your dinner, Thistle.”

  “This meal looks glorious. I can’t wait to dig in.” Charles Garvey sat at the end of the table with his wife, his cheeks flushed from either too much time outside or too many glasses of Tillie’s wine. I couldn’t be sure which. “Do you always cook like this?”

  “We love cooking,” Twila replied. “It’s something of a family gift.”

  “Oh, do you cook?” Caroline smiled indulgently at Tillie. “I’ll just bet you were a great teacher.”

  Winnie, Marnie and Twila snorted in unison, earning a murderous look from Tillie.

  “I’m a lovely cook,” Tillie said. “I could do it professionally if I wanted. I decided to take a different route, though, and focus my efforts on other things.”

  “Oh, really?” Caroline was
either clueless for not picking up on Tillie’s tone or purposely obtuse. “What did you focus your efforts on?”

  “Evil,” Thistle replied, reaching for the breadbasket at the center of the table. “She rose to the top of her field, too.”

  I knew it was wrong to encourage her, but I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Tillie didn’t appreciate my contribution to the situation.

  “I take back everything I said to you outside,” she hissed.

  “What did you say to him outside?” Winnie leaned forward, intrigued. “Did you tell him what’s going on with you and the girls?”

  “Nothing is going on with me and the girls,” Tillie said. “We’re one big happy family.”

  “Kind of like the Mansons,” Thistle said, bobbing her head. The smile she offered the guests came off more deranged than anything else.

  “And we know how it worked out for the Mansons,” Bay said, her eyes thoughtful as she studied Charles and Caroline. “You said your brother lived over in Alden, right?”

  “On Torch Lake,” Charles confirmed, smiling. He obviously thought Bay was being polite and making dinner conversation, but I knew otherwise. “I haven’t seen his house yet, but I’ve heard it’s fantastic.”

  “Why haven’t you been there yet?” Thistle asked. “I mean, you’ve been making such a big deal out of it and you’ve been here two days, but you still haven’t visited.”

  If Charles noticed the hint of tension in Thistle’s question, he didn’t comment on it. “We’re going Thanksgiving Day.”

  “And where do you live?” Clove asked. “I know you told us, but I forgot.”

  “We live in Grand Rapids.”

  “And what do you do?” Bay asked.

  “I’m a plumber,” Charles replied, chuckling. “Boy, you guys are curious little things, aren’t you?”

  “You know what they say about curiosity, right?” I said, shooting a pointed look in Thistle’s direction.

  “No, what do they say?” Tillie asked.

  “That it killed the cat,” Clove answered for me. “We don’t have a cat, though. We’ll be fine.”

  “We have a cat,” Thistle said. “It’s evil and it stalks us all of the time. It even messes up sheds after we’ve spent hours cleaning them.”