A Witch In Time: Magic and Mayhem Book Three

by Robyn Peterman

  “Nope,” Dad promised.

  “Not one word?” There had to be a catch somewhere. There always was.

  “Not one syllable. Witches Honor,” he swore. “I love you and think you’re amazing, but acting is really not your thing,” he admitted sheepishly. “But looking beautiful and standing center stage under a spotlight in fabulous clothes is! So it’s a win-win.”

  Again, he had a point.

  “And you really think the NASTY people can help your career?” I asked, absolutely adoring the acronym.

  “Bob says they are very important and influential in the theatre world. He’s been trying to get them to review his shows for years,” Fabio said reverently. “This is… ”

  “A possible clusterfuck if Ber the hypothetical lesbian shows up and tries to stop our play and off my untalented ass,” I reminded my dad. “And I’d also take anything Bob says with a vat of salt.”

  “Speaking of Ber the sexually ambiguous bad guy, I’m going to triple the patrol. No one will get in or out of Assjacket without my knowledge,” Mac said as he gave me a quick peck on the lips.

  “Sorry about our dates,” I told him as he moved toward the door.

  Damn his ass was pretty in his jeans.

  “Oh we’ll have our dates,” he promised with a sexy grin and a wink. “I’ll meet you at the Center on your breaks and between your marathon therapy sessions. We can go out back and… ”

  “Hello,” Fabio grumbled, throwing his hands in the air. “Her father is in the room.”

  “My bad,” Mac said, not meaning it.

  Mac strode across the room, took me in his arms and laid one on my lips that left me breathless while my dad hissed and huffed.

  “Later,” Mac whispered against my mouth as I grabbed onto the back of the couch for purchase.

  And then he was gone.

  Goddess, I hated it when he left.

  “He’s a pig,” Fabio snapped as he gathered up all the coffee cakes and put them in the fridge.

  “Nope. He’s a wolf.” I was still trying to find my equilibrium. “And a really good kisser.”

  Fabio’s groan made me giggle, but his next announcement… not so much.

  “Just so you know,” he said with a sly grin. “Baba Yaga will be coming to the show and payback is a bitch.”

  Great. Something gag inducing to look forward to.

  Exactly what I did not need. Or more accurately, what Roger didn’t need. Even the thought of my dad playing tonsil hockey with Baba Yomamma added on the possible need for four-a-days.

  Roger was going to crap.

  CHAPTER 13

  “I believe your mother is at the root of your issues,” Roger said as we approached the end of our third hour together.

  The rabbit had cried when I suggested we go four hours, so I let it slide.

  “Well duh,” I huffed with an eye roll. “I knew that. I’m waiting for you to tell me why.”

  “No can do,” he replied.

  “What the hell am I paying you for?” I demanded.

  “You’re paying me?” Roger asked, surprised.

  “Well I assumed you were going to send me a bill.”

  “Oh my goodness, no. The town is paying for your therapy. It’s one of the perks of being the Shifter Whisper. I saw Hildy on a regular basis when she was alive.”

  “Wanker. Shifter Wanker,” I corrected him.

  “Yes, of course. Wanker.”

  “Why does the town pay for the Wanker’s therapy?” I asked as I tried to get comfortable on Roger’s heinous office couch.

  “Well, um… most Shifter Whiswankers are slightly… How should I put this?” he wondered aloud.

  “Cray-cray?” I offered.

  “Oh no, I wouldn’t go that far,” Roger said with a chuckle and a kind smile. “I have found most Wankers need a few more tune ups than most.”

  “That’s certainly a diplomatic way to put it.”

  “Yes, well I’m good like that,” he replied.

  “Speaking of tune ups, do you mind if I take a crack at your couch?” I asked with itchy fingers.

  The couch clashed so badly with my Betsy Johnson dress I was getting a headache. It had to go.

  “Be my guest, dear,” Roger replied as he took a few books off his over-crowded dusty shelf.

  “Goddess on high with the best taste of them all,

  Roger needs a new couch so please hear my somewhat unselfish call.

  The plaid is just fugly and won’t match my dress,

  Please give the rabbit a sofa that’s, um… not such a fucking mess.”

  With a grand wave of my hand the horrible plaid couch morphed into a lovely dark cream brocade goose down sofa with matching pillows and a snuggly coffee colored throw blanket. I heaved a huge sigh of relief that the Goddess didn’t zap me in retribution for calling on her to satisfy my anal need for pretty things. It wasn’t just for me. Roger’s couch had to be at least fifty years old—everything in his office was antiquated. Of course I could have used some of my newly discovered money and bought him a sofa, but I was fairly sure there was no good shopping within a three hundred mile radius.

  “My, that was an interesting spell,” Roger commented as he seated himself on the couch next to me and bounced. “Does the Goddess mind the obscenities?”

  “Nah.” I shrugged with a cocky grin, quite pleased with myself. “I’m pretty sure the old gal is getting used to me. Son of a bitch,” I screeched as a violent wind blew me off the couch and a bolt of vivid purple lightning connected with my ass.

  As I rolled around the floor to put the butt-fire out, Roger had a mini panic attack.

  “Was it the obscenities?” Roger squealed as he quickly tossed a glass of water on my smoldering backside.

  “Um, nope,” I whispered through a grunt of pain. “I think it was the old part. Sorry,” I yelled to the heavens.

  As awful as a zap of fiery hot magic to the ass was, at least I knew the Goddess cared enough to set me straight. I simply wished she had a method that caused less scarring. My spells were going to kill me if Ber the lesbian honey badger didn’t get to me first.

  “Would you like some ice?” Roger asked with concern, as I was still face planted on his rug.

  “I’m good,” I ground out as I stood and leaned against the wall. There would be no sitting for me today. “Look Roger, I know you think I’m unbalanced to be spending an enormous portion of my day with you, but I just want to know for sure that I can really love someone—or what love actually means. I’m so terrified that this is all a mirage and once everyone really knows me they won’t like me anymore, much less love me. I even understand that what I’m saying isn’t rational. I just… I just can’t let it go.”

  I didn’t care that my ass was still on fire. I plopped down on the couch next to my porno- loving therapist and let my head fall into my hands. Tears rolled in fat drops down my cheeks and tasted salty on my lips. For a brief moment I wondered if it was raining at Mac’s secret place. I desperately wanted to believe that it might be, but I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Therapy wasn’t working. Maybe I needed to cut my losses and leave until I could figure it all out on my own.

  Running away would break my father’s heart. I had no clue what it would do to Mac, but I couldn’t commit to him like this. I was still broken. I might always be broken. The need to crawl out of my skin consumed me. Why couldn’t anything be simple? Why couldn’t I be a well- adjusted witch?

  “Zelda, it’s going to be… ” Roger started.

  “No. Stop. I know you mean well. You’re really a good head shrinker, but I might be too damaged to fix. I’m starting to bore myself with my indecision. However, it’s real and… ”

  “You need to forgive and forget to move on,” Roger said quietly.

  His statement resonated, but confused me even more.

  “Who? Me? Her? I don’t know what you mean,” I yelled as the tears continued to fall. “Can you be more specific?”

  Roger s
cooted closer, put his arms around me and hugged me tight. “You have all the answers in your heart and in your head. You simply need to slow down and listen. There’s no right or wrong here. I don’t have the magic pill or solution. You do.”

  “What if I don’t?” I whispered raggedly as I sucked back my tears.

  “At a certain point it becomes a choice, Zelda. We can put the past behind us or let it shape our future for eternity. Your mission is to figure it out.”

  “How do I know if I make the right choice? It’s not just me I’m thinking about here.” I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. Goddess, it was so much easier when I didn’t care.

  “Occasionally we never know and sometimes it’s very clear,” he said as he gently pulled my hands from my hair. “Life has no guarantees.”

  “That sucks,” I mumbled as I laid my head on his little shoulder.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But it’s not boring.”

  “Roger, thank you for listening. I don’t think I’ll be back. You are an awesome bunny and the porno thing just adds to your wonderful weird. I promise to keep working on my mission, but you’re correct. I have to do it myself.”

  I kissed him on the forehead and waved my hand in a circular motion around the office. I thanked him the only way I knew how. Everything in his office was now straightened, dust-free and updated. I even conjured up an enormous flat screen TV so he could watch his programs in between sessions. I stopped short at providing DVD’s since I wasn’t certain of his preferences and didn’t want to go there.

  “Zelda, are you sure?” he asked as he took my hands in his and squeezed.

  “Nope, but it feels right,” I told him with one last hug. “I’ve gotta get to rehearsal. You coming?”

  “I’ll be there in a bit,” he promised.

  As I turned to leave I saw him take in his new office with delight. It made me happy for a brief moment. Maybe the key was giving people stuff. I had a bunch of money that I didn’t really need, but that would just be buying love and friendship. Somehow, I needed to know I was worthy of love by just loving other people.

  Shit. This mission was harder than avenging Aunt Hildy and popping the shit out of honey badgers.

  New leaf, new leaf, new leaf.

  Goddess, please help me make the right choices.

  Please.

  CHAPTER 14

  Avoiding Mac was difficult as he was at the Community Center on my every break. I pretended to be engrossed in my script, but it was abundantly clear he wasn’t buying it. He stared at me from across the room with narrowed eyes and arms across his chest. I could literally feel his frustration. I knew he was trying to poke around in my brain so I mentally sang Bon Jovi’s Livin’ on a Prayer over and over. That had to be painful as I sang in the key of Z minor. He then quietly left the Center all fifteen times. It tore at my heart, but I was so unsure of myself and my own judgment, I was dizzy.

  “We might do better with no rehearsal at all,” Fabio muttered in a funk as he watched all of us try to mime to his pre-recorded voice over.

  It was a comedy of errors and I was pretty sure that wasn’t exactly what our illustrious director had envisioned. If one more person ran into me or stepped on my foot trying to follow the weird ramblings of my dad, I was going to blast a gaping hole in the stage with a covert wiggle of my nose. Seeing everyone fall into it would greatly improve my mood. It was bizarre to hear Fabio shrieking “No more wire hangers” in his best feminine voice. Bob, on the other hand was in seventh heaven.

  “This is the best show we’ve ever done! NASTY is going to love it,” he gushed as he gave my dad a congratulatory slap on the back. “The abstractness is so fucking confusing, it’s brilliant.”

  “Really?” Fabio asked hopefully.

  “Yes,” Bob assured him. “However, I do think the characters should wear large name tags so we can tell who is who.”

  “Good idea,” Simon called out from atop a ladder at the back of the room where he was controlling the spotlight. “That will be a tremendous help in knowing who to aim the light at.”

  “I’m on it,” Wanda yelled, holding up a black marker and a stack of poster board.

  “I do sign language,” DeeDee offered up as she bound onto the stage. “How about I sign the whole show while everyone is running around doing odd gestures?”

  I bit back my giggles at the thought and then groaned when my father rushed the stage in excitement.

  “Yes!” he shouted, picking up DeeDee and swinging her around. “That’s an outstanding idea. We’re just like Broadway now. Wanda, will the diner be supplying snacks for the patrons?”

  “You bet,” she said with a grin. “Cookies, cup cakes and punch.”

  “Can we spike the punch?” Simon called out from his perch.

  “Why do we need to spike the punch?” Bob asked perplexed as he arranged the plethora of props he’d bought from home. Why in the Goddess’s name did Bob bring plungers?

  “It’s a good idea,” Fabio mused aloud. “Joan was a drunk of sorts and it would make sense for the audience to experience the extravaganza through her eyes. It would also make everyone slightly more forgiving since we’re under such a time constraint here.”

  “So we’re gonna liquor ‘em up to get them through the shitshow?” I inquired sarcastically, yet thinking it was actually a good idea. If we got them soused they wouldn’t even remember being here.

  “Yes, we are,” Fabio announced with a sly grin. “It will be method acting taken to the extreme. It’s inspired.”

  “Are we going to let them in on the secret?” I asked my dad pointedly.

  “Definitely not,” he said. “It will be a surprise.”

  It certainly would. Hopefully there would be no drunken riot. However, with Assjacket’s Community Theatre record, that was anybody’s call.

  “Unbelievable! I can’t believe you would rehearse without me. I’ve got second billing and a slew of great ideas to make the show sexier and edgier,” Sassy shouted as she blew into the theatre with Jeeves and the chipmunks.

  Chip, Chad and Chunk followed her happily chomping away on enormous wads of gum. Chad and Chip held her hands while Chunk rode piggyback.

  WTF?

  “I know you,” Fabio hissed as he approached the trio. “You attended the poker galas.”

  “Galas?” I inquired with a laugh-grunt.

  “It sounds better than the back room illegal gambling ring,” Fabio said with a shrug and then turned back to the chipmunks. “You are tremendously bad poker players.”

  The chipmunks voiced their agreement and bowed to Fabio.

  Weird.

  “Everyone take a break,” Fabio instructed the cast. “Get Mac, Fat Bastard, Jango and Boba. Let them know we have a meeting. Now.”

  “They’re right outside,” Simon said as he cut the electric to the spotlight and climbed down the ladder. “I’ll let them know.”

  All of a sudden stuff seemed real again and not in a good way. I was so wrapped up in all my own angst, I’d forgotten I had a job and possibly a new death threat against me. I was a witch who was supposed to maintain the magical balance of my town and heal my people. It was time to get over myself and protect the Shifters who needed me.

  “You have info?” I asked Sassy tersely.

  Mac and the cats came barreling in and the chipmunks backed away in fear.

  “They won’t hurt you, little pookies,” Sassy promised the gum-smacking rodents sweetly. “I’ll protect you.”

  Mac’s growl reverberated off the walls. Now everyone backed up in terror.

  “You’re going to protect the animals that threatened the life of my mate?” he ground out as his fangs dropped menacingly.

  He was hot and scary—but mostly hot.

  “Oh. My. Hell,” Sassy griped and stomped her foot, blowing up the far left side of the stage. “Whoops. Sorry about that. Zelda is my best friend in the world. I’d kill the shit out of anything that would harm her. My pookies aren’t
killers. They’re just stupid.”

  “Yepstupidasaboxofhair,” Chunk chimed in a shaky voice.

  “Stupid,” Chip backed him up as Chad nodded vigorously in time with his chewing.

  “Out with it,” I demanded. “Who’s Ber? Why does he want me dead and what does he have against Mommie Dearest?”

  “And is Ber a lesbian who’s been outed?” Fat Bastard asked as he sharpened his little kitty claws and gave the chipmunks the evil eye.