Witching You Were Here (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 3) (10 page)

I actually hadn’t known that.

Brian nodded his agreement from the seat next to Landon. I was actually surprised they had decided to sit in adjacent seats given their general disdain for each other.

“What did you hear?”

“Someone named Uncle Teddy is coming to dinner,” the other young guy said.

“And you like the dude with the cool hair,” the first guy supplied.

“And your Aunt Tillie is angry,” the elderly lady at the other end of the table said helpfully.

“And you threw your cousin with the wild red hair under the bus just to get out of the kitchen,” her husband added.

“How do you know she has wild red hair?” I asked curiously.

“Her mother said that it looked awful,” the man replied.

“You heard all of that, huh?” I turned to Landon ruefully.

“We did,” Landon smirked.

“You should have came and told me that,” I whispered under my breath.

“And risk getting Aunt Tillie pissed at me? Not a chance.”

I didn’t blame him. “You haven’t seen Ted, have you?”

“No,” Landon shook his head. “If I were him, though, I would be eating my dinner as far away from this house as possible.”

“Why didn’t you flee then?”

“I’m charming,” Landon explained. “I figure I’ll win them over pretty quickly. That’s my super power.”

“Not Aunt Tillie.”

“We’ll see.”

Landon was pretty sure of himself. I had to give him that. Thankfully for everyone – I think – the swinging door opened again and the rest of my family trudged into the dining room carrying plates of food.

Once everyone was seated, Thistle looked around nervously. “I guess he’s not coming,” she said finally.

“Good,” Aunt Tillie grumbled.

“Maybe he’s just running late,” Landon suggested.

“No one asked you,” Aunt Tillie shot back, leveling her most terrifying “shut up” look on him.

Landon glared back. “It’s good to see you again, Tillie.”

“Speak for yourself.”

My mom smacked Aunt Tillie on the shoulder petulantly. “Don’t be rude.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“This smells good,” the woman at the end of the table said, flashing the brightest smile I’d ever seen.

“Of course it’s good,” Aunt Tillie said. “I cooked it.”

“You didn’t cook it,” Twila said. “I did.”

“Well, I baked the bread.”

“I baked the bread, Marnie countered.

“Wait until you taste the dessert,” Aunt Tillie smiled at the woman.

“I made the dessert,” my mom said.

Aunt Tillie cast a dubious gaze in Landon’s direction. “You see the way they treat an old lady?”

The next few minutes were filled with the sounds of food hitting plates and thankful murmurs of happy customers as they tasted the meal before them. I was starting to relax and enjoy the meal when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to see who it was.

“Dad, take a seat,” Thistle said nervously.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s fine,” Thistle waved off his apology. “We just started.”

“It’s not fine,” Aunt Tillie said. “Dinner starts promptly at seven.”

“It’s fine,” my mom gritted her teeth, placing her hand over Aunt Tillie’s to make sure she stayed seated. I couldn’t help but notice that Aunt Tillie was gripping her knife a little too tightly. Thankfully, it was just a butter knife. I didn’t think she could do too much damage with such a dull weapon.

Ted looked around the table for an open place to sit. The only available spot was between Thistle and one of the slackers. Ted slid into the seat and started doling food out onto his plate immediately. It was a nervous gesture. “This smells great,” he said.

I realized that my mom and aunts hadn’t said anything yet. They hadn’t greeted Ted. They hadn’t started him on fire either. That was a good sign. I think. Despite that fact, though, the silence at the table was deafening.

“So,” I turned to the slackers. “What are you guys doing in town? Snowboarding?”

“Yeah,” one of them nodded. “They have some gnarly hills out this way. How did you know?”

Who says gnarly anymore?

“I think your clothes tipped her off,” Aunt Tillie said unhappily. “And the fact that you call yourself Fudge.”

“Sludge,” the kid corrected her.

“That’s better?” Aunt Tillie didn’t look convinced.

“Well, that sounds fun,” I said hurriedly, hoping to cut any more of Aunt Tillie’s insults off before they exited her mouth. I turned to the older couple. “What are you guys planning on doing while you’re in town?”

“We’re antiquing,” the man said. “We like antiques.”

“In the winter?”

“We’re retired,” his wife explained. “We can antique all year.”

That sounded fairly hellish. “Well, there are lots of great stores around here.”

“That’s what we’ve heard,” the woman nodded happily.

Back to silence. I glanced over at Landon for help. “Say something.”

“I’m good,” he said, shoveling another forkful of food into his mouth. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Yeah, Twila makes really good pot roast.”

“She always did,” Ted said from his spot at the table. He didn’t raise his head when he spoke, but I couldn’t help but admire him for having the guts to not only show up at dinner but actually say something as well.

“Thank you,” Twila said warily. She was quiet for another second and then turned to look at Ted with a bright smile. Sure it was a fake smile, but she was trying, at least. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he said.

“That’s good,” Twila said. “That’s really good.”

“What are you doing in town?” Aunt Tillie asked.

“I’m helping some business partners find a piece of land for a new venture. They’ve been looking all over the area and I’ve been helping.”

“What kind of venture?” Thistle asked curiously.

Ted swallowed and took a sip from his glass of water. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was buying time so he could think of an answer. I pushed the thought out of my mind, though. That was ridiculous. Why would he do that?

“They’re not a hundred percent sure yet,” Ted said. “I’m just supposed to find a bunch of empty buildings and show them to them when they come to town in a week or so.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good way to run a business,” Marnie said pointedly.

“I agree,” Ted said. “I wouldn’t be very successful if I told my clients that, though.” He winked, and I flashed back to the charming man I remembered from my childhood.

“And are you? Successful, I mean?” Twila asked.

“I’d like to think so,” Ted answered. “I’m not rich or anything, but I do okay.”

“Well, how great for you,” Aunt Tillie said sarcastically. “Too bad you didn’t have the same success with your marriage.”

“That was a long time ago,”
Twila said. “Let’s not bring it up now.”

“In front of guests,” Marnie muttered.

My mom turned to Landon with a big smile – and an obvious agenda. “And how are you, Landon?”

Landon paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m good,” he said warily.

“That’s good,” my mom said. “I hear you’re working on a case here in town.”

“I am.”

“So you’ll be sticking around for awhile?”

“I should be,” Landon replied. “I don’t live that far away anyway.”

“You must have been busy then,” my mom said.

“It’s been a busy couple of months,” Landon glanced over at me. I shrugged. I had no idea where she was going with this either.

“That must be why you haven’t been able to get a haircut,” my mom said.

“I like his hair,” Thistle interjected.

“You would,” Twila said. “Look at your hair.”

“Look who’s talking,” Thistle grumbled.

“I like it, too,” I interjected.

Landon slid me a lazy smile. “You like my hair, huh?”

“It’s nice,” I said noncommittally. “It’s very hair like.”

“If you’re about to steal something,” Aunt Tillie scoffed.

Landon frowned. “I’m not generally the law-breaking type. No arrests on my record. No bootleg DVDs. No illegal wine-making endeavors.”

“Just the heart-breaking type,” Aunt Tillie countered, ignoring his wine jab.

I sucked in a breath.

Landon put down his knife and fork and turned to Aunt Tillie brazenly. “Is there something you want to ask me?”

Aunt Tillie looked surprised by his boldness. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, until you do, let’s go back to talking about Ted here,” Landon said.

Aunt Tillie smiled – the first real smile of the meal. “That’s probably a good idea,” she said. “You’ll be around long enough for me to torture next time. If history holds, Ted will disappear when no one is looking and slink away.”

Everyone at the table turned to watch Ted curiously. This was dinner theater at its finest for them, possible disaster for Thistle. They probably didn’t realize that, though.

“You look really good, Tillie,” Ted said finally. “I’m glad to say that you’re holding up so well. You’ve helped take care of my daughter in my absence, and I’ll always be grateful for that.

Well, that was an interesting tactic. It wouldn’t work, but he was obviously trying to distract her.

“Someone had to take care of them,” Aunt Tillie said obstinately.

“Even if you helped drive him away,” Thistle muttered.

Uh-oh.

“What did you say?” Aunt Tillie looked incensed.

“I said, even if you helped drive him away,” Thistle repeated.

“Who told you that?” Aunt Tillie turned on
Twila as she asked the question. “What did you tell her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Twila said uncomfortably, never moving her eyes from her empty plate.

“It’s no one’s fault but Ted’s that he left,” Marnie swooped in. “Blaming Aunt Tillie isn’t fair.”

“Don’t you blame her for Warren leaving?” Thistle challenged.

“No, I do not,” Marnie said stiffly.

“That’s not what the family gossip mill says.”

Landon leaned in closer to me. “This is about to get ugly, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea.”

“Really?” Aunt Tillie raised her eyebrows. “You all sit around and blame me for your husbands leaving?”

My mom shot me an angry glare. “This is your fault,” she hissed.

“How?”

“You invited him here.”

“It wasn’t just me,” I protested. “He’s Thistle’s father. She has a right to spend time with him if she wants to.”

“And you thought a family dinner was the best way to reintroduce him?”

“I certainly didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“I think you just invited him so we wouldn’t focus on Landon.”

A pang of guilt tugged at my heart. Is that what I had done? Pretty much. “Fine, this is all my fault,” I threw up my arms in defeat.

“Oh, it’s not her fault,” Aunt Tillie protested. “It’s my fault. Everything that goes wrong around here is my fault. That’s why you took my wine closet. You’re trying to drive me to an early grave.”

“You’re eighty-five,” Thistle shot back. “It’s not an early grave when you’re eighty-five.”

“Well,” Aunt Tillie got to her legs shakily. “Maybe I’ll just end it all now and make everyone happy. I’ll put myself out of my misery and you can all go on your merry way.” She turned on her heel and strode angrily into the kitchen,  leaving a wake of uncomfortable silence behind her. “You better get me a nice coffin,” she screeched form the kitchen when she was out of sight. “No particle board.”

“She’s not really going to kill herself, is she?” Brian looked horrified.

“No,” I said, shaking my head vehemently. “She’s just going to make us all wish we were dead instead.”

“I’m opening the aspirin bottle right now!” Aunt Tillie was still screaming from the kitchen.

Everyone watched the sliding door for a sign of her return – or another instance of Aunt Tillie drama -- but neither happened. “You’re sure, right?” Landon looked worried, despite himself.

“Trust me, she’s been threatening to off herself since I was a kid,” I said. “When I was twelve she actually threatened to throw herself in the river if Thistle, Clove and I didn’t shut up. She said she wanted to drown out the sound of our voices.”

“That’s a little different, I think,” Landon said.

“Not really. She actually walked us down to the river and jumped in. We thought she was dead. “

“Where was she?”

“She swam to the other side of the river and hid in the reeds and watched us freak out.”

“That sounds mean.”