by Tegan Maher
Jasper, my boyfriend, was returning the next day, and I couldn’t have been more excited. Jasper had been my high school crush, and later on he had turned into the love of my life. With his grandfather, he ran the Wolf Corporation, a very powerful company in the county and beyond.
In fact, that’s why they were gone—it a last-minute business trip for something that had come up right before the holidays. I hadn’t minded as much as I expected to, mostly because I hadn’t finished my Christmas shopping yet and was glad of some extra time to take care of it.
I was doing my best, but it was still a mess, and I planned to do more that very day. But I was still worried about Paws. He had never threatened to leave Mintwood before, but that appeared to be what it had come to.
I threw off the covers and went to look out the window. Then I let out a gasp.
Why?
Because it was snowing.
I found myself smiling. This was the first real snow of the season, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. My only worry was that it would now be harder to go shopping. Maybe I’d end up doing some Christmas baking instead. That made a lot of sense, but I decided to wait and see how the morning went.
I got dressed quickly in a warm sweater and hurried downstairs. Unsurprisingly, Greer wasn’t awake ahead of me, but as usual she was keeping the fridge well stocked with delicious food. She had said she was planning a particularly spectacular feast for Christmas itself.
There was still so much to do between now and then that I was feeling overwhelmed. Usually I was more on top of it, but somehow this year a lot of things had slipped through the cracks.
I had been so busy with mysteries and the like that I had fallen behind on Christmas shopping, wrapping presents, and putting up decorations.
After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I decided to go check on Paws on the porch. Given that he was a ghost, and that he wouldn’t be able to feel the cold, maybe the first snow would bring him some joy.
Charlie had to get to work, so it didn’t take long for her to show up in the morning. As a bartender, Greer usually slept late, though she’d been getting up earlier lately. She said it was because she had so much baking to do for the holidays. Whatever the reason, she appeared on the porch not long after Charlie.
Charlie hadn’t let the drama with Paws go. She was desperately worried that his holidays would be ruined, and therefore, so too would ours. She told Greer again that we had to find out what was behind it all.
“No way! We’re taking Christmas off from mysteries,” said Greer, throwing up her hands. She’d had her nails done in a sparkly green color, making her hand motions all the flashier.
“But this isn’t your normal kind of murdered ghost mystery, like we’re used to,” Charlie argued. She’d worn a red suit for work that day and wouldn’t have looked out of place playing Mrs. Claus in a play.
“That makes it worse! It means you’ll stop at nothing to solve a case! Any case. Even one as downright silly and trivial as this one,” Greer continued to argue.
“Paws is family,” Charlie cajoled, playing the checkmate card in the argument.
As a rule, Greer and Paws didn’t get along, but how amicable you were had nothing to do with whether you were related. In fact, it was often around the holidays that families that didn’t tolerate each other at any other time of the year were forced to do so.
Greer massaged the back of her neck as she took in Charlie’s words. “We can try to find out what happened to his holiday joy. While we’re at it, why don’t we take up skydiving and gymnastics as well?”
“Those sound difficult,” said Charlie, with a small frown.
“This will be too,” said Greer, sounding gloomy.
The conclusion, no matter how much Greer disliked it, was that Paws was family, and if he was struggling anywhere near as much as he seemed to be, we had to do something to help him out.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t do anything about the Paws mystery until after dinner.
Greer was taking a night off from cooking dinner, because we already had enough leftover holiday fare to feed half of Mintwood. There had been the pot luck supper with pot roast themes. There had been the Grange breakfast. And then there had been three separate local Christmas parties just in the past week.
But we still had to have supper, so we put a quick one together, and then I made a plan to go downtown. It was time to talk to the one ghost who could tell me what was going on with the grumpy cat who resided on my porch.
Greer offered to accompany me on my quest, mostly to get Charlie off her back by appearing to be doing something about the situation. Charlie couldn’t come because she was too busy writing articles for the paper.
The object of our quest was the ghost cat Honolulu, the sweetest cat I had ever met. How she had managed to date Paws for so long I had no idea. Whenever we saw her, she was a complete and utter joy.
When we got downtown, we found her handing out small knitted gifts to other local ghosts. She was outside the library, which had closed for Christmas. Mrs. Snicks, the librarian, had delightfully told every single one of her patrons for the past month that she was off to Florida to celebrate Christmas “in the sunshine” for once.
Even though humans couldn’t see ghosts, ghosts didn’t normally linger where humans gathered. Plus they were usually almost impossible to see in daylight, even for witches like me. But all of that changed during this special time of year.
We found a number of ghosts milling around at the library, and in the thick of it all was the sleek and beautiful ghost cat we had come to talk to.
As we made our way toward her, my breath appeared in gray puffs of air and my boots crunched on the freshly fallen snow.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” I said with surprise, referring to the knitting.
“Only at this time of year. There’s something magical about it,” Honolulu murmured, trotting up to the next ghost. This one was wearing a Santa hat and grinning widely.
As I talked to Honolulu, I noticed that the sky was a warm gray. I knew that by nightfall it would be streaked with the deepest blues and purples before it was filled with white stars.
My mind kept skating back to my Christmas wrapping. There were still several gifts tucked away and hidden in my closet. Good thing Paws didn’t come into the house, I thought; he’d find the hidden presents and announce to everyone where their gifts were.
Unable to think about any of that right now, I turned my mind back to the task at hand.
Greer and I exchanged glances. Honolulu looked perfectly content with her ghost knitting and the Christmas gifts she had made for her fellow ghosts. Seeing her so calm and relaxed, I wondered how anything could possibly be wrong with my intrepid Paws.
I had come to see Honolulu because I couldn’t figure out any other reason for Paws being such an unbelievable grump other than that she and Paws must be fighting. In short, I figured all must not be well in paradise.
But if things were going badly between them, Honolulu certainly wasn’t giving any sign. Quite the contrary; she seemed perfectly happy and content.
“How are your holidays going?” I asked.
Greer knew what I was doing and chose that moment to clear her throat rather loudly. I was annoyed, but Honolulu didn’t appear to notice. Her whiskers twitched, then she said, “Very well, thanks so much. But I have to say, something feels different about this year. I can’t exactly say what that is, though.”
“Could it have anything to do with Paws?” I asked.
There was only so much time in the holiday season and we were running out of it. There was no point in dancing around the bush, even if that bush was holly.
“Maybe. He’s been a bit odd recently—skittish. Once he talked about not living in Mintwood anymore. I didn’t want to mention it to you, since you’re his people, and not mine,” Honolulu explained.
“He can be so terribly complicated, as I’m sure you know,” said Greer, trying to use her unde
rstanding voice.
“You’re our friend too,” I said. “We don’t want you to feel like an outsider.” I tried to sound encouraging, even if I didn’t exactly feel that way at the moment.
Honolulu demurred. “I know, it’s just, he can be so confusing. Just like Greer said. Men think they’re so simple all the time. They’re about as simple as a string of Christmas lights tied in knots.” She paused, looking tense.
My whole body suddenly went rigid. She’s going to break up with him, I thought. I just knew it. He was too much of a grumpy puss to deal with. She’d forgotten about it, and made herself happy with gifts and friends, but Greer and I had showed up and reminded her. Now Paws was never going to forgive us for ruining his relationship with the one ghost he liked.
I tried to take a deep, calming breath.
Then Honolulu murmured, “I love him. It’s Christmas. I’d like it if we had a nice time this season.” Her whole face softened as she spoke, and I suddenly felt silly for ever worrying about her.
Greer and I tried to say as many reassuring things as possible. Greer was especially bad at being comforting, but we went away feeling better than we had before, even if more confused than ever.
Before we left, a few of the ghosts asked me to perform a spell. Wanting to be obliging, I made sure no one else was around, then pulled my wand from my sleeve. In one sweeping gesture I made a shower of sparkles over a field of sparkling snow. As we left, the ghosts clapped.
Despite the cheer, I still felt a chill.
If Honolulu wasn’t the problem with Paws, that meant only one thing.
The mystery had deepened.
3
The next day I planned to get up early and wrap the rest of the presents that were hidden in my closet, but that was not to be.
When I woke up I felt a particular kind of cold draft in my room. The farmhouse was terribly old and often drafty, but I recognized this sort of chilly air as something special.
A lot of snow had arrived in the night, and with it, plenty of shoveling that had to be done sooner rather than later.
Jasper had a truck, and I knew he’d be coming over later to plow. Plus, after a late return last night from his last business trip of the year, we’d be spending as much of the day as we could together.
But I also knew that Jasper probably wouldn’t get to the house in time to clear the driveway before Charlie had to get to work. With almost everyone else at the newspaper taking time off, Charlie had taken on a large load that holiday season, calling it her Christmas gift to her coworkers.
So, I had to get up and help her shovel. The good news was that I would feel perfectly justified in having pancakes and a homemade mocha for breakfast once we were finished.
I threw off the covers and put on as many layers of clothing as I could. When I was finished, my arms felt like snowman arms, their range of motion severely restricted by the many layers. My actual outdoor gear was downstairs, so I hurried down there to finish the look.
Out each window I could see the fields covered in snow. A lot had come down in the night!
When I looked out the living room window toward the porch, I also saw the vaguest of shimmers. Ghosts are hard to see in the day, but I could just make out Paws lying on his crate.
I pulled on snow pants, boots, and my winter coat, and grabbed up a hat and a pair of mittens to complete the ensemble.
When I finally got myself out to the porch I found Mr. Bone and Mrs. Goodkeep sitting there, apparently hanging out with Paws. Two of the ghosts who lived at the farm, they were kept company by the tea ladies, Gary, and Tank the rabbit, although where all those other ghosts were at the moment was anyone’s guess. There was a lot of visiting to be done over the festive season, so the ghosts were leading busier social lives than usual and hovering around the property less.
“Morning,” said Mrs. Goodkeep with fake cheer.
Mr. Bone looked troubled, but tipped his hat to me.
“How is everyone?” I asked, suddenly feeling nervous. I glanced at Paws, who scowled. Yes, a cat can scowl. Even a ghost cat.
“We’re good,” said Mrs. Goodkeep, shifting in her seat. “Just catching up on the latest news and tidings.”
“How are the other ghosts?”
“Good. Good. All a sight better than that one over there. He’s never been delighted at holiday time, but I’d say this year it’s particularly bad,” said Mr. Bone. His voice was always gentle and reasonable, but he was keeping it even lower than usual right now.
Meanwhile, Paws was muttering to himself on his crate and shifting back and forth on his paws. I thought I heard the words “moving” and “leave for good.”
They sent a chill through my belly.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll snap out of it,” said Mrs. Goodkeep. She didn’t sound anywhere near convinced.
“Right. He may,” said Mr. Bone, also sounding dubious. He shrugged, then gazed out at the snow. “It’s wonderful to have a white Christmas. It’s one of the things I always loved the most, seeing blankets of snow through the window while we sat around the Christmas tree,” he said.
Mrs. Goodkeep leaned over to me. “I know you think he’s family, but don’t be surprised if he leaves.”
My mouth fell open in total shock, but at just that moment we were interrupted.
The door behind me opened, and I shifted to make way for Charlie. With her head and body entirely covered by a bright blue snowsuit and a balaclava, capped off by a pair of goggles, I only knew it was Charlie because Charlie was shorter than Greer.
“Hello,” I said, feeling chilled to the bone already myself.
With her mouth invisible and blocked behind her scarf, a wave was the best she could do in greeting.
Paws had always loved Charlie best. Now he looked up and almost looked pleased. Charlie waved to him as well.
His response was, “Humans are weird.”
“We’re going to shovel now. Let us know if you need anything,” I told the ghosts.
“Wish I could help. Back in the day, that was my job,” said Mr. Bone, standing up as if he were about to grab a broom.
“I used to sit by the fire on days like today,” Paws offered. “It’s how I know that you two have no sense. You should be by the fire relaxing.”
“I have to get to work,” said Charlie. She had so little mobility in her snowsuit and big puffy boots that she had to go down the front steps sideways, while I carried our shovels.
“That’s another thing. It’s too close to the holidays for ladies to be working,” said Mrs. Goodkeep.
Charlie shrugged. I knew she didn’t mind. Hansen Gregory would also be working this holiday weekend. He was the lead investigative reporter for the Caedmon Chronicle, the newspaper for the next town over, and there was no way Charlie would ever allow herself to be outdone by him.
At least a foot of snow had fallen. As we made our way off the porch, the wind tried to sneak underneath the collar of my coat, my wool sweater, and my hat. I shrugged my shoulders upward and defended myself against the cold as best I could.
When we were safely off the rickety porch steps, I handed Charlie her shovel and we got to work.
Despite the effort required by the shoveling, and despite the precarious footing, I kept one nervous eye on Paws as I slowly opened a path down the walk. Given how often he’d been disappearing lately, I was surprised to find that he stayed on his crate as we worked. He just sat there, muttering to himself. I couldn’t come close to deciphering what he was saying.
After we managed to clear the stairs and open a pathway to the cars, we started digging them out. It was at this point that Charlie came over to me and pulled her balaclava down just enough so that her mouth was visible.
“What’s he talking to himself for? It looks like an intense conversation,” she said thoughtfully.
“Who knows. Maybe we should have one of the ghost birds sneak closer and ask,” I said.
For a moment I thought Charlie was serio
usly considering my idea. But what she finally said was, “As the Witch of Mintwood, shouldn’t you be able to just make all this snow disappear?”
I never used my magic for chores; it just wasn’t done. But sometimes I was tempted. By the end of February in Maine I was downright sick and tired of shoveling, and spells were always fun to perform regardless of whether they were simple or complicated, as long as I got them right.
But at the moment I was kind of enjoying the shoveling. It was the first heavy snowfall of the year, and I wasn’t sick of it yet.
My main job, besides being the Witch of Mintwood, was as a pet sitter, but even that was a pretty laid back responsibility. I had a few pets to take care of right now, as I usually did, but none that required me to arrive first thing in the morning. A few people with cats went away for the holidays, but many of the dogs I usually watched while their owners were out of town were currently traveling with their humans, so there were no dogs for me to look after.
I had actually considered having one dog come stay at the farmhouse if I had to take care of him, but his owners had decided against it, and that was just as well. Greer already had a dog who liked to be the center of attention, and one was enough.
I had a few pet sitting visits to make later in the day, but I wasn’t in any particular hurry.
Just as we had the snow cleared away from Charlie’s Volvo, I heard a truck start up the driveway.
Charlie paused. “Jasper’s here to plow? Good, because I have to get to work! Tell him I said hello, though.”
She made her way back to the porch, set her shovel down, and headed to her car. But just before she left the porch I saw her say something to Paws.
Jasper’s truck came into view, pushing high piles of snow in front of it as he came.
I gave him a wave, then headed to the porch to get out of his and Charlie’s way.
“You ready to talk?” I asked the ghost cat, who had gone back to muttering to himself.
“Leave me be, Human,” he said. “These are matters of grave importance.”
