I Dream of Twila Read online

  Do you believe in magic?

  Do you take money from people to change their futures?

  Do you think it’s okay to terrorize a small child to get your own way? No? Then you don’t know how to handle children.

  Yeah. It was a really weird dinner.

  Once it was over, Aunt Tillie gathered the girls and took them upstairs, calling for Sugar to follow and casting a derisive look in Cherry’s direction. The look spoke volumes, but the message was clear: Don’t mess with my family.

  Cherry’s reaction was less clear. She waved happily – something that I knew would cause Aunt Tillie to start plotting curses for our houseguest – and blew kisses to the girls as she wished them happy dreams. Once it was just the two of us, Cherry turned the conversation to something more serious.

  “Your aunt hates me. Why?”

  “It’s not that she hates you,” I hedged, rinsing dishes before loading them into the dishwasher. “She’s simply … protective and loyal.”

  “I don’t think she’s the only one.” Cherry grinned as she moved to the table and collected empty plates. “You’re loyal to her. I see it in the way you look at her. She drives you crazy, but you’d be lost without her.”

  “We’re a close family,” I explained. “We spend a lot of time together. My mother died when we were teenagers and Aunt Tillie raised us. She’s always been with us. I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t telling us how to live our lives.”

  “My mother died when I was a teenager, too,” Cherry said. “You’re lucky to have your aunt. I had no one.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I went into foster care for two years and then struck out on my own,” Cherry replied. “I joined up with a carnival because I didn’t have many options, but my gift made me want to deal with people and a carnival was all I could think of.

  “I learned a lot while I was there – mostly about customer relations and the like – but I don’t regret traveling with the carnival,” she continued. “Eventually I heard about the renaissance festival circuit and thought it was worth a try. That was twenty-five years ago. I’ve never looked back.”

  “I bet you’re looking back now,” I countered. “The people you trusted most, the people you worked with, they took off and left you. Not only that, they stole from you.”

  “They did, and I definitely should’ve seen it coming,” Cherry said. “But I was distracted.”

  “By what?”

  “The blonde girl.”

  I stilled. Blonde girl? “Bay?”

  Cherry nodded, her expression shifting from mild interest to worry. “She’s an interesting girl.”

  “She is,” I confirmed, my stomach squirming. I couldn’t decide if Cherry’s tone or expression bothered me worse. “You saw something when you looked at her palm last night?”

  “I saw myriad things.”

  “You saw something bad, though. Admit it.”

  “Nobody’s future is completely set,” Cherry stressed. “Even in the split second before an accident the driver of a car can change the future by pulling left or right. None of those things are set until they’re already in the past. Things happen … and shift … and slide all over the place until they’re actually set in time.”

  I wasn’t sure if she meant the words to be comforting, but they were far from it. “But?”

  “But Bay is a complicated girl,” Cherry replied. “She’s bright and funny. She’s loyal and happy. She’s snarky and strong. She’s also … troubled.”

  “She wasn’t troubled before you freaked her out,” I pointed out. “She was in a good mood and playing games with Aunt Tillie before that happened. You made her troubled. You made her so troubled the dog understood she was upset and chose to sleep with her.”

  “And you blame me?”

  I shrugged, noncommittal. “I live in a house with three young girls and three grown women. I’m used to mood swings. Trust me. I’ve seen every mood swing ever invented. What happened with Bay last night was different.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset her.” Cherry licked her lips as she handed over two plates. “Sometimes I speak before I think. I didn’t mean to upset her. It’s just … what I saw in her future … it could be difficult for your family.”

  “You said yourself that nothing is set in stone until the moment of choice,” I reminded her. “Bay is a good girl. She’s not my daughter, but I love all of them as if they’re my daughters. My sisters feel the same way.

  “If I die, I can move on without fear because I know Marnie and Winnie will take care of Thistle and treat her as their own,” I continued. “Do you know how I know that? Because that’s exactly how I’d be with Bay and Clove.

  “The thing is, Aunt Tillie thinks you’re a con artist. I can’t decide what I think,” I said. “I can’t see how you think you’d benefit by conning us. You can’t steal from us because we have nothing worth stealing, and Aunt Tillie would make you pay if you tried. I can’t see anything in this for you.

  “But I know that Bay is a good girl. She won’t do something that will kill all of us … or even some of us,” I said. “You should probably be very careful where she’s concerned.”

  “You’re definitely loyal,” Cherry said. “I didn’t mean to upset the girl. I simply … saw something that took me by surprise.”

  “Well, in this house, we see a lot of things that take us by surprise. We deal with them as they come. We don’t live in fear. I won’t allow Bay to live in fear.”

  “I understand that.” Cherry forced a smile. “I’ll keep it to myself. It’s not as if she’s suffering because of what I told her.”

  “Bay may not look like she’s suffering, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t,” I argued. “If something happens, Aunt Tillie will make you pay. If it’s something really bad, well, Aunt Tillie will go on a rampage.”

  “That sounds like something to fear.”

  “Oh, you have no idea.” I loaded the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. “So, are you ready to get settled for the night? I think you’ll have a long day tomorrow … what with you leaving and all.”

  Cherry licked her lips, and I thought she might put up an objection. Instead she simply nodded. “Of course. Thank you so much for your hospitality.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Eight

  I paced the hallway outside Marnie’s bedroom an hour after Cherry retired. When I first decided to put our guest in that room it seemed the most logical choice. Marnie’s room was closest to the bathroom and there was nothing in the room worth stealing. I made sure of that – moving my sister’s jewelry into my room and making sure to lock the door when I wasn’t present.

  Still, as the house grew dark and quiet I couldn’t help rethinking my decision. It was a bad idea. I should’ve put Cherry on the couch. Marnie was going to have an absolute meltdown when she returned Sunday evening and found someone else had been sleeping in her bed. When Marnie has a meltdown it usually culminates with yelling … and pinching … and occasionally biting.

  Crap. Winnie and Marnie would make sure I was never left alone with the girls again. I couldn’t blame them. I’d completely fouled this up.

  Now I had a strange woman sleeping under our roof, and Aunt Tillie ready to blow a gasket. That’s never a good combination.

  Even though I was exhausted I didn’t retire to my bedroom. I wanted to – the Goddess knows the thing I needed most was sleep – but I couldn’t bring myself to leave the hallway. My mind was filled with a hundred different “what if” scenarios, each one progressively worse than the last.

  What if Cherry was a thief who tried to steal the few pieces of jewelry we had that were worth anything?

  What if Cherry was worse than a thief, and entered our lives because she wanted to get inside the house to allow her cohorts – who hadn’t really abandoned her after all and were merely lying in wait in the trees surrounding the house – inside so they could steal from us?

  What if Ch
erry was unbalanced and that’s why her troupe abandoned her? What if she was so crazy she tried to kill us in our sleep?

  Worse, what if Cherry’s interest in Bay was for something much more nefarious? What if one of the girls disappeared during the night along with Cherry? We might never see her again. Cherry would force her to join the renaissance festival and wear corsets the rest of her life. Now, I like a good corset as much as the next person – they’re great for when you have a small bust – but no one wants to be forced into one.

  I had just about made up my mind to walk into Marnie’s bedroom, roust Cherry from her sleep and kick her out of our lives when the quiet pervading the house was shattered by a shrill scream.

  I jolted at the sound, taking a moment to gather my bearings and then racing toward the girls’ bedroom at the end of the hallway. I was almost there when Aunt Tillie swooped out of the shadows, her face grim as she pushed open the door and stepped inside ahead of me.

  I flicked on the light to find Thistle and Clove standing next to their bunk beds – fists clenched – staring at Bay’s bed. For her part, Bay sat up, her fingers clutching the quilt on top of her shaking body, tears streaming down her cheeks. My heart rolled at the expression on her face even as I tried to understand why she was screaming.

  “What happened?” Aunt Tillie asked, moving closer to Bay. “Did someone try to get in through your window?”

  Bay shook her head, the tears increasing. “I … .”

  “She had a nightmare,” Clove offered, taking me by surprise with her fortitude. “She … saw things.”

  I flicked my eyes to her and found an unreadable expression on my other niece’s face. “What did she see? Did she tell you?”

  “She didn’t say anything,” Thistle answered. “I didn’t hear her say anything. I’m not sure how Clove knows she had a nightmare.”

  “I saw it,” Clove supplied. “I saw in her head. I … saw it.”

  Clove looked as shaken as Bay – almost – so I squeezed her shoulder to offer comfort. “It’s okay. Nothing is going to happen. The things Bay is worried about are … .”

  “Stupid,” Aunt Tillie offered, sitting on the edge of Bay’s bed and running her hand over the girl’s tousled hair. “Bay, I need you to listen to me.”

  Bay looked as if the last thing she wanted was a pep talk from Aunt Tillie, but she lifted her eyes all the same. “That woman is running a scam,” Aunt Tillie said, keeping her voice low. “She didn’t see anything when she read your palm. She’s making it up.”

  “But she has the gift,” Bay protested, her voice cracking. “She sees things for a living.”

  “No, she pretends to see things for a living,” Aunt Tillie corrected. “She doesn’t see real things. Do you want to know why?”

  Bay chewed on her bottom lip and nodded, her cheeks flushed with color.

  “The future is determined by an individual’s heart, Bay,” Aunt Tillie explained. “You have a good heart. That woman doesn’t. She doesn’t recognize your power. That’s on her. Don’t let the fear get the better of you.”

  Bay nodded, her eyes wary and exhausted. “Okay.”

  “Okay.” Aunt Tillie bobbed her head before pushing Bay to a reclining position. She patted the top of the mattress and Sugar instantly sprang up to lie beside Bay, his eyes keen. To my utter surprise, Aunt Tillie leaned forward and whispered something to the dog, resting her hand on his head before patting him three times and taking a step back. When her eyes landed on me they were full of wrath. “That woman is leaving this house first thing in the morning. If you even think of arguing with me you can go with her.”

  I balked. “I planned on showing her the way out myself.”

  “She never should’ve been invited in,” Aunt Tillie growled, pointing a gnarled finger at the bunk beds and causing Thistle and Clove to hop into their respective beds without complaint as she passed. “Everything will be fine, girls. I promise. Now … get some sleep. If you’re good and don’t give me any grief I’ll take you for ice cream and doughnuts in town tomorrow.”

  “You shouldn’t bribe them for good behavior,” I chided.

  Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes so dramatically I thought she’d knock me over when she swayed. “And that right there is why you’re not invited.”

  Oh, well, that hurt. “I’m not exactly happy with you right now either,” I volunteered. “You’ve been a real pain ever since Marnie and Winnie left. You could’ve made things easier on me, but instead you made them worse. It’s not as if this is my fault.”

  Aunt Tillie snorted. “Well, it’s certainly not my fault. Now … go to bed. The sooner everyone goes to sleep the sooner we’ll wake up and throw out the trash.”

  “As far as we know, Cherry hasn’t done anything to us,” I reminded her.

  Aunt Tillie spared one more glance toward Bay, who rolled into a ball and let the dog take up a protective stance along her back. “I don’t know how you can say that with a straight face. Honestly, I don’t care. But it doesn’t matter. That woman is out of here tomorrow … and if you even dare try to argue you’ll have all ten spots on my list to yourself.”

  Now that was a daunting thought.

  MARNIE’S BEDROOM was empty when I walked past it on my way to the shower. The door was propped open and Cherry had gone above and beyond in her attempt to make sure that the room didn’t look “lived in” when she vacated it. The bed was made, everything discarded on the floor in Marnie’s haste while packing was put away. If anything that made the room look completely out of character. I knew Marnie would freak out all the more when she returned to the house in twelve hours.

  “Crap.”

  I showered quickly, wasting little time on pampering of any sort before dressing and heading toward the main floor. I stopped in Marnie’s room long enough to mess up a few things – my sister isn’t someone to live in a pristine room – and then closed the door before leaving. In truth, I also searched to make sure nothing was missing. Marnie didn’t have anything of high value in her room, but everything looked to be in place all the same, which was a relief.

  By the time I got to the main floor I was feeling better about things. Cherry was a normal woman in an abnormal situation. That’s all there was to it. She was a woman going through a hard patch who had been betrayed by those closest to her. She was a victim, not a user. Aunt Tillie was merely spouting nonsense because she dislikes seventy-five percent of the population – and only tolerates the other twenty-five percent – and the woman likes a little drama with her morning coffee … and afternoon tea … and before-bed belt of bourbon.

  I pushed open the door that led to the kitchen with a wide smile on my face and an “I told you so” on my lips. I expected to find Cherry nursing a cup of coffee at the table as she waited for her ride. Instead I found a fuming Aunt Tillie and a panicked-looking trio of girls watching her.

  “What’s going on?”

  The question was out of my mouth before I considered how wise it was to utter it given my audience. They looked positively … manic. That was the only word to describe them.

  “You’re on Aunt Tillie’s list,” Thistle answered without hesitation, grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl on the counter and digging her fingernails in to peel it.

  “You’re going to be homeless by the end of the day,” Clove added. “She’s kicking you out.”

  “Worse than that, she’s not claiming you as a niece again,” Thistle said. “She is keeping Aunt Winnie and Marnie. She says she’s going to need them to wreak bloody vengeance.” Thistle wrinkled her nose and tilted her head to the side. “Wait … did I say that right?”

  “Wreak,” Bay automatically corrected, her eyes wide as she watched Aunt Tillie stalk back and forth behind the cupboards. “She said ‘wreak bloody vengeance.’ I’m going to guess that wreck will work for what she has planned, too.”

  As the oldest, Bay has the most expansive vocabulary. She always has. When she was five she sounded like a pint-sized adult
and often had to explain words to me. It’s freaking annoying. She gets that from Winnie, by the way, because I’m not like that at all.

  “Does someone want to tell me what’s going on here?” I asked, tugging on my waning patience and forcing a smile for the girls’ benefit. I figured they were only acting out of sorts because Aunt Tillie got them riled up before breakfast. That’s Aunt Tillie’s specialty, after all.

  “Your friend robbed us,” Aunt Tillie hissed, her eyes sliding to slits as she prowled the kitchen. “She robbed us, and I’m going to make her cry like a little girl.”

  “Hey!” Clove was offended. “Other people besides little girls cry.”

  “Not very well,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “Do you want me to make you cry, Clove? If so, keep talking to me that way. I’ll make you cry and still find that thieving fake fortune teller and rip her innards out through her nose.”

  I rubbed my forehead as I pictured the scenario Aunt Tillie described. “I don’t think that’s possible. How would you get a grip on someone’s innards from their nose?”

  If Aunt Tillie was agitated before she was positively apoplectic now. “Is that really something to worry about?” she barked. “We’ve been robbed!”

  “So you’ve said twice now.” I kept my tone even as I moved between Thistle and Clove. They looked antsy, which meant they were liable to scatter in different directions should Aunt Tillie start barking orders. I took a moment to scan the kitchen and found everything exactly as I left it the previous evening. “What’s missing?”

  “Aunt Tillie’s marbles,” Thistle answered, grinning as Aunt Tillie stopped pacing long enough to point at her.

  “You’re on my list, mouth.”

  I ignored the potential fight between the two most cantankerous members of the immediate family and instead focused on Clove. She looked relatively settled. “Would you like to translate for me?”

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  Clove’s tone told me I read the situation entirely wrong. She was in the mood to get dramatic, and I’d missed the signs. Well, crap. It was too late to turn back now. “I’d like you to start at the end because I don’t have time to listen to a long, drawn-out story.”