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Authors: Amanda M. Lee

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BOOK: Life's a Witch
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“Yes, but all the kids there were babies,” Annie explained. “I like hanging out with you guys more. You’re not babies. Well … except for Clove sometimes. Aunt Tillie says she whines like a baby.”

“Well, I see I arrived just in time,” Clove said, walking into the room with Sam at her side.

“I said you whined like a baby some of the time,” Aunt Tillie said. “I just told them – and now I’ll tell you – that I promised not to lie to her. What would you have me do?”

“I’m not sure this is a conversation we should be having now,” Mom said, nervously clasping her hands. Everyone ignored her.

“Stop telling her things that alienate us from her,” Landon suggested. He would never admit it, but I knew his nose was a little out of joint because Annie had a crush on Marcus instead of him.

“I don’t think you’re an alien,” Annie said, her expressive face plaintive. “I’m just scared of you because everyone knows ‘The Man’ wants to take Aunt Tillie down.”

“Okay,” Mom said, moving forward to take Annie from Marcus’s arms. “I think you should come with us while we cook dinner.”

“I want to stay with Marcus,” Annie whined.

“Marcus and everyone else are going to show Aunt Willa around while we make dinner,” Mom said. “Would you like to meet Aunt Willa?”

Aunt Willa plastered what she probably supposed was a friendly smile on her face. She looked like a deranged clown on the lam from the circus police. “I’ve heard all about you,” she said. “You’re a very pretty little girl.”

Annie wrinkled her nose. “Aunt Tillie says you’re the Devil and we should never be tempted by the Devil.”

“Oh, dear Goddess,” Mom muttered, clutching Annie tighter to her chest.

“Take Annie and go,” I said, taking pity on her. “We’ll … handle this.”

Mom didn’t have to be told twice. She kept Annie pressed to her chest as she scampered into the kitchen. Marnie and Twila looked dubious about leaving us, but their self-preservation instincts kicked in and they wordlessly followed their sister. That left the absolute worst people in the inn to deal with … well, the worst people in the inn.

“She’s a lovely child,” Aunt Willa said, her eyes resting on Aunt Tillie’s scornful face. “You said her mother works here?”

“They live in one of the rooms on the attic floor,” Thistle explained. “Annie’s mother was in a car accident not long ago. She’s still recovering. We took care of Annie while she was in the hospital, and then our moms hired her here because they needed help.”

“Yes, well, this place is certainly impressive,” Aunt Willa said, glancing around the lobby. “It doesn’t look anything like the old homestead.”

“The original house is still part of the design,” Clove offered. “Our moms and Aunt Tillie still live in that part of the building.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see that.”

“We have a no-assholes policy,” Aunt Tillie said. “You don’t pass muster.”

Landon coughed into his hand to hide his laughter, causing Aunt Willa and Rosemary to shoot him twin looks of dislike. He wouldn’t make their “favorite people” list anytime soon.

“We should start,” I said, glancing around. “Perhaps Landon, Marcus and Sam should help Aunt Tillie get ready for dinner while we’re conducting the tour.”

“Oh, great,” Landon muttered. “I’m never going to get my bacon curse if you make me babysit her.”

“It’s either one bout of terror or the other,” I shot back. “Do you want the enemy you know or the one that crawls in your sleeping bag when you’re camping and injects poisonous venom into your butt?”

“It’s good to see your head is in the right place for this,” Landon said, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead before turning to Aunt Tillie. “Do you want to spend some time with me?”

“Is that my only choice?” Aunt Tillie was nonplussed.

“It’s your best choice,” Thistle said, dejectedly moving to my side. “We’ll get Aunt Willa and Rosemary settled in their room and give them a tour. Hopefully when we’re done dinner will be ready.”

And then we can stuff food in our face as fast as humanly possible and retreat to the guesthouse, I silently added. “I think that’s a plan,” I said.

 

“WHAT
is that smell?” Rosemary wrinkled her nose as she sat at the dining room table forty minutes later.

“It’s called food,” Landon replied, his irritation showing.

I sat in the chair next to him, instinctively squeezing his hand. He glanced at me a moment, his eyes hard, and then his expression softened.

“I’m sorry I left you with Aunt Tillie,” I whispered. “I thought you would prefer her to Aunt Willa.”

“I’m not angry with you, Bay,” Landon replied. “I’m just … tired.”

“I’ll give you a massage when we get back to the guesthouse,” I offered. It was a lame bribe, but I didn’t have much else to barter.

“I’ll only accept that deal if you’re naked.”

“Don’t talk about naked massages at dinner,” Aunt Tillie instructed from her chair at the head of the table. Mom wisely seated Aunt Willa and Rosemary in the middle so Aunt Tillie wouldn’t be tempted to stare anyone down during the meal. Instead, Clove and Sam moved from their regular spots, and Clove had to face off with Aunt Tillie throughout the meal.

The big worry of the evening was legitimate inn guests. My mother has a hard and fast rule: You are not to act up in front of paying customers. We’ve broken that rule so many times we’ve become known for our dinner theater. I worried this meal would switch us from the comedy category to horror.

Everyone at the table swiveled their faces in Aunt Tillie’s direction, assuming the show was about to start. My cheeks burned as my mother scorched me with a look that could’ve set an iceberg on fire.

“So, Bay, how did you and Landon meet?” Rosemary asked, trying to steer the conversation to a safer topic.

“Oh, well … .” I glanced at Landon, unsure.

“I was undercover on a case and I met her at a local corn maze,” Landon answered for me. “She was the prettiest woman in the field, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.”

He’s charming when he wants to be.

“How did you really meet?” Rosemary pressed.

Landon rolled his neck until it cracked. “That is how we met.”

“Oh.” Rosemary looked disappointed. Of course, given her face, that could’ve been her happy expression for all I knew. “I thought it would be under more exciting circumstances.”

“Like?”

“Like … I don’t know,” Rosemary said, shrugging. “I thought maybe you arrested her or something.”

Landon opened his mouth to say something I knew would make my mother melt down, but he didn’t get a chance to respond, because Mom appeared and started dishing pot roast, potatoes and fresh corn onto his plate.

“Landon and Bay have been inseparable for months now,” Mom said, pasting a fake smile on her face. “We’re very fond of him.”

“I only like him some of the time,” Aunt Tillie announced. “Right now would be one of those times.”

Mom narrowed her eyes. “Why? Where were you this afternoon that you suddenly like Landon?”

Aunt Tillie ignored her. “Generally my motto is that the only good cop is a dead one – I have that in common with N.W.A.”

“What’s N.W.A.?” Rosemary asked, confused.

“Don’t answer that,” Landon ordered.

“I happen to like Landon right now, though, so I’m giving that up as my motto,” Aunt Tillie said.

“Why do you like Landon now?” Aunt Willa asked, addressing Aunt Tillie directly for the first time since their uncomfortable meeting in the foyer.

“Anyone is better than you,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Where’s my dinner? If I’m going to get indigestion at least I should get dinner first.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Mom hissed as she dished a heaping slab of pot roast onto Aunt Tillie’s plate. “You shove that food in your mouth and behave.”

“That’s what she used to tell me when I was a kid,” I said, going for levity. “It works better with cake.”

The guests laughed while Aunt Willa and Rosemary looked annoyed.

“And what do you do, Bay?” Rosemary asked. I had no idea why she kept returning the focus to me. We were the same age, so I was expected to entertain her on the rare occasions we were in the same place while growing up. It was never fun, and I knew now would be no different.

“I’m editor at The Whistler.”

Aunt Willa snorted. “I can’t believe that newspaper is still in business. Is it as pathetic as it used to be?”

Landon stiffened next to me, annoyed on my behalf. “It’s a weekly newspaper in a small town,” he said. “Bay does an amazing job, considering what she has to work with.”

“I’m sure she does,” Aunt Willa said.

Mom must have sensed the tension growing to “red alert” levels and decided to change topics. “How is your dinner, Aunt Willa? Is the pot roast good?”

“You set a lovely table.”

I narrowed my eyes as my heart rolled and my foot itched to kick someone in their bony behind. No matter what you say about my mother and aunts, their cooking is beyond reproach. Aunt Willa was intent on being as obnoxious as possible … and I was pretty much at my limit.

“The pot roast is fantastic as usual,” Sam said, flinching when Aunt Willa turned her attention to him.

“And you own a lighthouse?” Aunt Willa asked.

Sam sighed. “I do.”

“Is there much money in that?”

“There’s more than enough for me to live on,” Sam replied. “I haven’t been in town all that long. I love the atmosphere and people, though. I wanted to stay, and I thought the Dandridge was a great opportunity. Plus, I met Clove. I think it was a good move.”

Clove beamed. “He’s done amazing things out there.”

“Clove has helped a great deal,” Sam said, patting her hand. “She put in all of my gardens.”

“And what do you do, Clove?”

Clove swallowed when the conversation shifted to her. “I own a magic shop downtown with Thistle. It’s called Hypnotic.”

“A magic shop?” Rosemary chortled. “Do you read tarot cards and palms, too?”

“We do a little of everything,” Thistle replied. “In case you haven’t noticed, Hemlock Cove is a magically-branded town. People come here because they like the fantastical and supernatural. That’s what we offer.”

“And you make a living doing that?”

“We do well. Thank you.”

“If you do so well, why are you all living in the guesthouse on the family property?” Aunt Willa asked. “I would think you’d want to strike out on your own.”

“That guesthouse is just sitting there,” Mom said, annoyance flashing in her eyes. “It’s perfect for the three of them until they decide to change things on their own. There’s no reason they should move if they don’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t they want to?” Rosemary asked. “Aren’t children supposed to want to get away from their mothers and … great-aunts?”

“In your case I think that would be a given,” Landon said.

“What did you say?” Aunt Willa asked.

“He said you’re a witch with a B,” Aunt Tillie replied, spearing a hunk of pot roast and popping it into her mouth.

“I love the show,” one of the guests enthused. She was a middle-aged woman and her eyes sparkled as she glanced around the table. “Do you guys perform at every meal?”

“Only if you’re lucky,” Thistle answered, reaching for a slice of bread. “You picked a good week to be here, if that’s your thing, though.”

“Yay!” The woman clapped her hands.

“You know what, Tillie?” Aunt Willa gripped her knife so tightly her knuckles whitened. “You haven’t changed a bit since we were children. You were awful then and you’re still awful.”

“I can live with that,” Aunt Tillie said.

“Yes, but can everyone else?” Aunt Willa asked. “Look around. These people hate you.”

“I think you have Aunt Tillie confused with you,” Thistle said.

“Thistle,” Mom barked. “You’re being rude to your aunt.”

“So what?” Thistle tossed her napkin on the table and pushed back her chair. “I’m sorry, Winnie. I know this farce is important to you. It’s not important to me, though. I don’t know these people. I don’t want to know them. I just … it’s summer. We’re supposed to be having fun. This isn’t my idea of fun.”

Mom glanced to me for help, but Thistle’s words were greater motivation than my mother’s silent pleading.

“I’m with Thistle,” I said, tossing my own napkin on the table and glancing at Landon. “I know you love pot roast, but … .”

“The pizza is on me,” Landon said, hopping to his feet. He sent an apologetic look in Mom’s direction. “I really did try.”

“No, you didn’t,” Mom replied, folding her hands into her lap.

I focused on Aunt Tillie. “Do you want to come with us?”

Her answered surprised me. “Of course not,” she said. “I can’t torture Willa if I’m not here. I’m powerful, but that would suck the fun right out of my night.”

Oh, well, I should’ve seen that coming. “Just try to keep yourself from burning the house down,” I said, moving from the table and stopping at my mother’s side. “We’ll stop by for breakfast, but if things aren’t better … .”

“Just go,” Mom ordered. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

 

Seven

“What are you thinking about,” Landon murmured the next morning, tugging me closer to him as he situated the covers more snugly around us. “I can hear your mind working from here.”

I generally hate mornings – except when I get to wake up next to Landon. He’s always warm and cuddly. “I’m thinking that my mother is probably really upset.”

Landon sighed. “Bay, I love your mother, but … you can’t live your life on her terms,” he said. “Those women are horrible. You can see on their faces that they’re here to stir up trouble.”

“That’s what worries me.”

“You’re worried that they’re up to something? Join the club. I know they’re up to something. Until they make their intentions known, though, we’re in the dark. Being nice to those women isn’t going to propel them to tell us what they want. Being nice to them only hurts us.”

“You really hate them, don’t you?” I asked, running my finger down his cheek.

“I really hate anyone who goes after you,” Landon replied. “In case you missed it, I think you’re pretty great. I love you. You make me smile and I enjoy watching you laugh.”

BOOK: Life's a Witch
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