wicked witches 08.6 - a witch in time (17 page)

I didn’t think that was in the cards. Not yet, at least.

“Don’t put the bread there,” Marnie instructed. “It should go on the other table.”

“Why?” Twila asked, her red hair glinting beneath the bright sunlight.

“Because that’s where I’m putting the doughnuts.”

“Is there a reason the doughnuts can’t go on the other table?” Twila challenged.

“Yes, because they go in the spot where you put the bread.”

“That’s not an explanation,” Twila grumbled, although she was already moving the bread. “I just think you like bossing me around.”

“That’s an older sister’s job.” Marnie wasn’t bothered by Twila’s attitude. Of course, she was used to it.

“Speaking of older sisters, where is Winnie?” Twila asked, lifting her head. “Shouldn’t she be here by now?”

“She’s coming,” Marnie said. “Bay called yesterday and told her she couldn’t make it. She’s a little … upset.”

“You mean depressed,” Twila interjected. “Why isn’t Bay coming?”

“She says she has to work,” Marnie said. “I think it’s more than that, though.”

“Like?”

“Haven’t you looked at Bay’s face whenever she visits recently?” Marnie asked. “She’s sad.”

“She’s definitely not happy,” Twila agreed. “She should come home. That’s what Winnie wants. That’s what Clove and Thistle want. Heck, I think it’s even what Aunt Tillie wants.”

“It’s what Bay wants, too,” Marnie said. “She’s not ready yet, though. We can’t make the decision for her. She has to do it on her own.”

“Do you think she will?” Twila looked hopeful. “If she could change her mind and come home for Christmas … .”

“It won’t be that soon,” Marnie cautioned. “Bay will come home for Christmas, but she won’t be staying. Not yet.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I told her,” Aunt Tillie said, walking around the corner of the booth and fixing Twila and Marnie with a hard look. “Why did you put the bread there? It shouldn’t be there. It should be over here.”

“I told you,” Twila said, triumphant.

“No one asked you,” Marnie snarked. “What are you even doing here? You said that you would rather douse your butt in gasoline and set fire to your pants than attend this. We agreed that, given your frame of mind, it would probably be a good idea for you to stay home.”

“This is important,” Twila said. “You promised not to do anything to ruin it.”

“Do I look like I’m going to ruin anything?” Aunt Tillie asked, pasting on her best “I’m innocent and you can’t prove otherwise” expression. “I’m on my best behavior.”

“You always look as if you’re about to do something horrible,” Twila replied. “This festival is very important. It could make Hemlock Cove one of the top tourist destinations in the state. Don’t you dare ruin it!”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Aunt Tillie muttered, crossing her arms over her chest as she scanned the festival grounds. Her eyes locked with mine for a moment and my heart clenched, but she made no other indication I was present and returned to her conversation with Marnie and Twila. “Where are Clove and Thistle?”

“They’re double-checking the store to make sure everything is set for the grand opening tonight,” Marnie answered. “They’re really excited.”

“The store is beautiful,” Twila said. “They did such a good job. I’m so proud of them.”

“You weren’t here when Hypnotic opened?” Landon asked, surprised. Hypnotic is the magic store Thistle and Clove own and operate. “That surprises me. I would’ve thought for certain you would have been here for that.”

“I should’ve been.” I felt inexplicably sad.

Landon reached over and gathered my hand. “You’re here now, Bay. You can’t go back in time – this really weird day notwithstanding – and change things. You’re a good sister.”

“Cousin,” I automatically corrected.

“You’re a good sister,” Landon argued. “You guys may only be cousins by birth, but you’re sisters. I have no doubt about that.”

I leaned over and rested my head against his shoulder as he traced his fingers over my hand. “I still should’ve been here.”

“Your heart was here.”

“Have you seen the store yet?” Twila asked Aunt Tillie. “It’s amazing. Those candles Thistle made are going to sell out in one day. Mark my words.”

“The little imp is talented, I’ll give her that,” Aunt Tillie said, causing me to smile. “She’s still a pain in the ass, though.”

“You’re just saying that because she’s your clone,” Marnie said. “You and Thistle fight because you’re so much alike.”

“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Aunt Tillie complained.

“You’ll live,” Marnie said. “What are you really doing here? I know you don’t care about the booth or the store.”

“For your information, I’m going to the store opening,” Aunt Tillie sniffed. “They’re my nieces and I’m proud of them. Don’t ever tell them I said that, by the way. I’ll curse you until your pants burst if you do.”

“Your secret is safe,” Marnie said, chuckling. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here. I’m starting to think you’re avoiding the question.”

“That’s a rotten thing to say,” Aunt Tillie said.

“Now I know you’re avoiding the question,” Marnie pressed. “Start talking. What are you doing down here?”

“I happen to be attending a launch event myself,” Aunt Tillie said. “I’m going to the euchre tournament at the senior center.”

“Ugh.” Marnie groaned. “I thought you were banned for a month because you pulled Mildred Tuttle’s hair and accused her of cheating at cards?”

“She doesn’t have hair,” Aunt Tillie clarified. “She wears a wig. I accidentally lost my footing and reached out for something to keep me upright and it just happened to be her wig. How is that my fault?”

“You mean you pulled her hair and accidentally yanked her wig off,” Marnie corrected dryly. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

“I’m fooling everyone who doesn’t share DNA with me,” Aunt Tillie snapped. “Don’t ruin my day.”

“See, this makes me suspicious,” Marnie said. “Why are you going to the euchre tournament? They won’t let you play.”

“Uh-oh,” I said, realization dawning.

“What’s going on?” Landon asked, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips as he watched the show. “I love watching Aunt Tillie mess with people – as long as it’s not me, that is.”

“She is a master,” I agreed. “I know what she’s doing, though. I didn’t get to witness it, but I heard about it after the fact.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the great euchre tournament poisoning,” I answered.

“That sounds vaguely familiar, but I don’t remember why.”

“There are about ten different stories about what happened this day, but if you believe the townspeople, Aunt Tillie thought she was being cheated out of euchre money by the other senior citizens. She retaliated by poisoning everyone,” I explained.

“She has a lot of problems with people and cards, doesn’t she?” Landon asked, referring to a recent incident in which Aunt Tillie was suspected of murdering a woman at the senior center. That, too, revolved around a card game gone wrong.

“She’s competitive,” I confirmed.

Landon snorted. “You’re all competitive,” he said. “Don’t kid yourself that you escaped that little family gem. You want to win as badly as anyone else. You said the townspeople said she poisoned them. Did she?”

I shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Landon said, his eyes landing on Thistle as she hid behind a tree and motioned for Aunt Tillie to join her. “Thistle has something in her hand, and I’m guessing it’s whatever makes everyone at the senior center sick.”

“I never heard this part of the story,” I said, leaning forward. “Thistle always said Aunt Tillie was out of control and there was no way of knowing what really happened.” Aunt Tillie offered Marnie and Twila a lame goodbye and then scampered in Thistle’s direction, a broad smile on her face. “Thistle helped her.”

“That’s what you get for believing Thistle.”

I jumped at the new voice, turning to find Chief Terry standing behind the bench. “What are you doing here?”

Chief Terry held out a magnifying glass. “I’m here to investigate stuff. I’m a cop. I spend all of my time getting in everyone’s business and sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Seriously, I can’t wait to tell Terry all of this,” Landon said, his shoulders shaking. “It’s going to drive him crazy.”

“What are you investigating?” I asked.

“Stuff.”

“Okay,” I said, lifting my eyebrows as I locked gazes with Landon. “That explains a lot. I guess we should follow Aunt Tillie and Thistle. I don’t know what else we’re supposed to do with this memory.”

“You’re already done with this memory,” Chief Terry interjected. “It’s not about what Aunt Tillie is about to do … she’s totally innocent. This is about what life was like without you.”

“The same?” I challenged.

“No.” Chief Terry shook his head. “Life wasn’t quite right. We always missed something.”

“See,” Landon said, smirking. “I told you.”

“Everything is right now,” Chief Terry said. “You’re about to come home.”

“I don’t come home for years,” I argued.

“You’ll be home in a few minutes,” Chief Terry said, grinning as the colors shifted. “It’ll be fun.”

You’ve got a mouth like a trucker and a butt like a hooker. That’s why I like you … some of the time.

– Aunt Tillie giving Thistle a pep talk

Fifteen

^“
Well, we’re back at The Overlook,” Landon said, studying the familiar façade with what can only be described as relief. “We’re getting closer.”

I absentmindedly scratched my wrist as I followed his gaze. “What do you think we’re getting closer to?”

“Us.”

It was a simple answer – and it made sense in some ways – but it was bothersome. “What do you think happens when we catch up with ourselves?”

“I think we wake up,” Landon replied, reaching for my hand to stop me from scratching. “Why is your wrist red?”

“Hay has always made me itchy,” I answered. “I’m not allergic, but it’s still uncomfortable.”

“I take it that means you don’t want to go for a roll in the hay, huh?” Landon’s smile was teasing, but his eyes were somber.

“I always want to go for a roll in the hay with you,” I replied. “I think itchiness is something I can put up with as long as I have you.”

“I’ll remember you said that when I force you to go on a hayride this fall,” Landon said. “Okay, this looks like the inn I know. I’m going to guess you’re back in Hemlock Cove at this point, but I don’t think we’ve gotten to me yet.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I would like to see what all the fuss is about,” Landon said, causing me to chuckle. “I know I’m a handsome man, but to be able to see myself from a different vantage point must surely be fantastic.”

“If you’re trying to bolster my spirits in an effort to assuage my guilt from the last memory … well … it’s working.”

“Good,” Landon said, linking his fingers with mine. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. You didn’t do anything wrong. A lot of kids move away when they grow up. You came back. You wouldn’t have anything to feel guilty about even if you didn’t come back.”

“I guess,” I hedged. “It’s just … Mom was sad.”

“We didn’t even see your mother,” Landon said. “Marnie and Twila could’ve been exaggerating.”

“My mother likes to control things,” I pointed out. “Do you really think she would’ve let Marnie and Twila set up for what could’ve been the most important festival in Hemlock Cove’s short history without her if she wasn’t depressed?”

“I think you want to be important enough to have the power to depress others,” Landon replied. “Your mother might’ve been sad … or even upset … but you didn’t dictate the terms of her life. You made decisions about your own life. There’s a difference.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t be depressed without me?” I challenged.

“That is a different story,” Landon said. “You’re making decisions for both of our lives when you act now. That’s not the same thing.”

“You’re giving me a headache.” I pinched the bridge of my nose with my free hand. “I don’t think we have many memories left before time catches up. If Aunt Tillie is showing important moments from both of our lives, there can’t be many left.”

“I’m wounded,” Landon said, clutching the spot over his heart with feigned distress. “What about me?”

“I’m sure we’re going to see you,” I said, laughing despite myself. “It wouldn’t be a walk down memory lane without you. She’s picking specific moments in time, though. Whether she’s doing it purposely or subconsciously, though, we can’t have many more hoops to jump through before we get to the end.”

“Why don’t you look happier at that prospect?”

“Don’t let her stay.”

“What?” Landon knit his eyebrows together, confused.

“That’s what Grandma Ginger said. That’s what Uncle Calvin said. When we get to the end, I think Aunt Tillie is going to be there, and she’s going to want to stay. We can’t let her.”

“We won’t let her stay,” Landon said, squeezing my hand reassuringly. “She’s not ready to go, and we’re definitely not ready to let her go. Everything will be okay.”

“I wish I was as convinced of that as you are.”

“I have faith,” Landon said. “You’re something of a pessimist. I’m an optimist.”

I tried to swallow my snort before it escaped, but failed. “You’re a bigger pessimist than I am most of the time.”

“Not when it comes to the important things,” Landon said. “Now, let’s move closer to the house. I want to see what we’re supposed to see and move forward. I really am craving pot roast, and if we play our cards right we might still get it.”

“I thought you were craving bacon?” I fell into step with him as he led us toward the inn.

“I always crave bacon,” Landon said. “The pot roast is calling my name tonight, too. Just think about it. Potatoes, warm bread, pot roast. I’m starving.”

“Sometimes I think you have a one-track mind.”

“Don’t worry. You’re always on the track. Who is that?” Landon pointed toward the back patio as a man stepped into view. I studied him for a moment, racking my brain for who he could be, and when I realized I started laughing.