by Mardi Ballou
“Why does it matter?” Justin asked.
“Because the only way to fix the Tingle Bells is to get the person who put the hex on to remove it.” Sylvie looked at Justin with sympathy.
“The only way?” Justin echoed.
She nodded.
“I can’t friggin’ believe any of this,” Justin muttered.
Something was niggling at Ramon’s mind. “Who was that you mentioned earlier?”
“When earlier?”
“During dinner. Didn’t you say something about an aunt who’s been estranged from the family forever?”
Justin screwed up his face. “You mean Aunt Louise?”
Ramon nodded. “That was it. Your Aunt Louise. Wouldn’t she qualify as an enemy of your family’s?”
“Well, yeah. But she’s been estranged for the family for decades.”
“Is she also a witch?” Sylvie asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Can you describe her?” Sylvie prodded.
Justin thought about that. “Geez, I’ve never met her. Why would I need to describe her?”
“Because once I hear a description, I’ll be able to tell you whether or not she’s a likely suspect.” Sylvie nodded to him.
Justin rubbed his hands across his face. “I really don’t know anything about her.”
“You could ask your Aunt Claire or Uncle Fred for information,” Ramon pointed out.
Justin shook his head. “If I asked them about Aunt Louise, oblivious as they usually are, they’d realize something very strange was up. I really don’t want to tell them what’s going on unless I’m totally backed to the wall.”
Justin explained the situation to Sylvie, who appeared to understand. “Without the description of your aunt, assuming she’s the source of the hex, it could take us a lot longer to determine how to proceed.”
“We don’t have the luxury of time.” Suddenly a metaphorical light bulb went on over Justin’s head. “Hold the phone, folks. Aunt Claire and Aunt Louise were twins.”
“Identical or fraternal?” Sylvie asked.
“That I don’t know. But I can tell you about Aunt Claire. Maybe Aunt Louise is like her. Maybe that’ll be enough information.”
“You’re sure Aunt Claire couldn’t be the source?”
Justin laughed. “No way. That I can be one hundred percent sure about.”
“Sounds like it’s worth a shot.”
Justin described Claire Clancy in detail as Sylvie took notes.
When Justin had told her all he knew, Sylvie said it would take about half an hour to determine if Louise Clancy was indeed the source of the hex. She invited them to wait in a small book-lined room where they could enjoy coffee, tea or hot chocolate.
“Half an hour?” Justin complained.
Ramon hoped they would have a definitive answer so quickly. If Louise turned out not be a credible suspect, they’d have to start all over from scratch.
After what was easily the longest half-hour in the history of the world—though according to his watch, which might need its batteries recharged, it had been only twenty-eight minutes—Justin had reached his limit of endurance. Fortunately, Sylvie, who seemed to glide along as if she had all the time in the world, finally returned holding a piece of paper.
“You have results?” Justin practically jumped her. Ramon reached out and restrained him.
“Let’s all sit down, please.” With Ramon’s hand on his arm, Justin subsided.
“We’ve done an extensive analysis on the hex to see if Louise Clancy indeed cast it on the Tingle Bells.” She paused, stringing out the suspense until Justin was ready to throttle the information out of her.
“Were your findings conclusive?” At least Ramon cut to the chase.
Sylvie aimed a beatific smile at him. “Actually, yes. I think the results will please you. We are more than ninety-nine percent positive Louise Gertrude Clancy did indeed hex the Tingle Bells.”
Now that he had something solid to get his brain around, Justin found it almost impossible to focus. Aunt Louise was just a mythical name from his childhood, along the lines of the bogeyman and the tooth fairy—actually, even less real to him than those two. Years could go by without any of the Clancys mentioning her name. He’d never even known her middle name was Gertrude.
So now they knew who was behind the hex. They didn’t know why or how, which probably didn’t matter at this point. But what could they do? Before Justin could articulate the appropriate question, Ramon came up with it. “What’s the next step? How can we remove the hex in a timely fashion?”
Sylvie sighed. “The short answer is we can’t.”
“What’s the long answer?” Justin asked. They couldn’t have come this far without any possibility of a solution.
She chuckled, which made Justin shiver. “The same, but with a lot more detail.” She tossed her head, swinging her curtain of long dark hair.
Ramon made a hand gesture as if to sweep away this aspect of the discussion. “Bottom line, Sylvie. What do we need to do to get the Tingle Bells back the way they’re intended to be?”
“Short answer?” she asked.
“Please.” Justin echoed Ramon’s response.
“The only one who can simply and quickly remove that particular kind of hex is the one who cast the spell.”
“You mean I have to find Aunt Louise and get her to remove a hex she had no business putting on the Tingle Bells?” Justin couldn’t believe it.
“I’d suggest your attitude might not be helpful,” Sylvie said, her eyes boring into him, “but, yeah. You’ve got to make things right with Louise Gertrude Clancy or your Tingle Bells will remain cursed until someone else can intervene, which could take ages.”
Justin didn’t have a clue where to start. “Family,” he snorted.
Ramon settled with Sylvie for her services. Justin tried to remind himself about not shooting the messenger. After all, it wasn’t Sylvie’s fault Aunt Louise had just fucked up his life and sent the rest of the Clancys on a downhill slide to financial disaster. Included in that disaster, Justin was sure, would be his inability to pay up whatever bill he was accruing with Ramon. It just might take a decade or so for him to extricate them all from the rapidly approaching sea of red ink.
Once they were back on the road, Ramon figured he and Justin could plan how to proceed. He couldn’t understand why Justin had fallen into such a deep pit of despair. They’d found out who was responsible for the hex on the Tingle Bells and what was required to restore them to normal. A problem and a solution. From his point of view, it seemed neat, logical and eminently doable. “So, buddy, it sounds like the next step is to contact Aunt Louise and get her to reverse her hex.”
Justin snorted. “Just like that? Say, ‘Hey, Aunt Louise, I’ve never met you, but you just screwed up my Tingle Bells and the whole family’s finances with your hex. The family you’ve been estranged from for years. I’m sure you’ll just reverse your hex because I flash my orthodontics-enhanced smile and ask nicely.’”
Ramon chose to ignore the sarcasm. “Something like that. A bit more complicated.”
“Damn straight it’s a bit more complicated. Geez, I keep forgetting that all your ideas about families come from some la-la land fantasies.”
Ramon recoiled as if Justin had flung a bucket of cold water at him. Empathizing about Justin’s obvious pain and frustration, he bit back his own spurt of pain and an objection to Justin’s attitude. They’d focus on the solution now, get the Tingle Bells okay. Later, assuming there’d be a later for them—which he profoundly hoped would be the case—he’d tell Justin how much such comments hurt. “Why do you think Louise hexed the Tingle Bells? You’ve said she’s had nothing to do with the family in decades.”
“How the hell should I know? She’s probably some batty old broad who’s gone ‘round the bend and goes around hexing things.”
“She seemed pretty focused in what she did, and she certainly cast a powerful hex. I’d say she’s
trying to get the Clancys’ attention, and she picked a sure way to send a message you all can’t ignore.”
Justin sputtered something unintelligible.
“Look, I know you’re really angry, frustrated and scared. But now that a solution is within reach, I don’t think venting is the most productive way to go.”
Justin sighed. “Ramon, you’re right. I’m being a total beast, and you’re getting the brunt of stuff you don’t deserve.”
That felt better. He relaxed a bit. “Thanks for that, Justin. Let’s put our heads together and come up with a strategy. Do you have any idea how to contact Louise Clancy?”
“Not a clue. The Yellow Pages?”
“Not to worry. Locating people is the first skill I developed when I got started in this business.”
“When we get the Tingle Bells squared away, I want to hear everything about your work, like why you became a private dick in the first place. You put me off at dinner, but I really do want to hear.”
Ramon’s heart lifted when he heard Justin talk about future plans for them, and his use of “when” instead of “if”. “I want to hear about your work, too. The sonology and metallurgy, your being an inventor.”
“All that good stuff.”
“So let’s get back to strategy. It’s late now, and, as you pointed out, Louise Clancy is not a young woman. Let’s contact her tomorrow. We’ll find out what message she intended to convey with her hex—and charm her into reversing it.”
“Her message is along the lines of ‘Fuck you, Clancys’.”
Ramon shrugged. “Maybe. But let’s hear it in her own words.” They were nearing Justin’s address. “I can drop you off at your place.”
“Hey, man. I know it’s late and a lot of shit has gone down today, but how about coming up for a nightcap?”
Justin didn’t have to ask him twice.
* * * * *
Talk about a wild roller-coaster ride. Justin’s emotions were all over the map. To think of how much had happened in one short night which wasn’t even close to over. He’d looked for help with his Tingle Bells, found Ramon, really found Ramon, then learned what he’d have to do to fix the bells. What the hell was he supposed to make of all that? Ramon calmly told him all he had to do was contact the aunt he’d never even met and somehow deal with a long-standing family feud—all with the time limit of fixing the Tingle Bells in time for Christmas sales. He may not have needed a road map to get him home from the shore, but he sure wished he had one to tell him which end was up.
Thinking about ends, he thought about Ramon’s sexy ass and the steamy sex they’d already experienced. Could that have been only a few hours before? It felt like a lifetime.
Ramon parked his car. “What do you want me to do next?”
If it weren’t for Ramon, tonight would have been a disaster of catastrophic proportions instead of just a horrendous nightmare. “Geez, Ramon, I just can’t think. My brain is fried. All I want to do is run away to Tahiti and forget Tingle Bells, Christmas and the Clancys.”
“What’s second choice?”
“Sleeping for a month.”
“You can run and you can hide, but…” Ramon started.
“Speaking of running and hiding, why don’t we get in out of the cold?” Justin offered. “My place isn’t as posh as yours, and there are definitely no condom dispensers or bidets, but you can help me drown my sorrows in the squalor of my humble surroundings.”
Ramon put his arm around Justin, where it felt really good. “You don’t have to try to impress me.”
“That’s good because, as you’ll see in a moment, I won’t.”
Justin had never given much thought to his apartment, a place to hang his hat when he wasn’t working in his office-lab-studio, hanging out with other Clancys or, rarely, having a social life. But now he viewed the small rooms and his secondhand furniture with the critical eye he expected Ramon would be looking and judging with. Busy with his push to get the Tingle Bells out for the Christmas rush, Justin hadn’t bothered with even his usual minimal housekeeping, and it showed.
“Interesting,” Ramon murmured.
Justin debated handing Ramon his very own spray can of Lysol, but decided not to. “I’ve got a six-pack of beer, half a bottle of tequila, and I’m sure there’s some rum left. If you want, I can give you a paper cup.”
Funny how Justin hadn’t noticed Ramon’s tendency to frequent eye rolls before. “I’ve had all my third-world shots. I’ll be fine,” his guest said grimly.
They both laughed, which dissipated a bit of the cloud of tension that had descended on them at the shore.
Ramon sat down on one of the mismatched chairs flanking the small battle-scarred kitchen table, looked around and then, after noting the overflowing sink and trash can, cut short his survey. “I’ll have a shot of the tequila.”
Justin poured tequila into the lone clean glass in his cabinet and popped open a beer for himself. He plopped down across from Ramon and straddled a chair. “I thought you said you had lots of other work to do. Cripes, Ramon, I don’t want to ruin your business too. Don’t let me keep you from the customers who will be able to pay soon. I’ll pay my entire bill, but it may be in small monthly increments spread out over the next three decades.”
Ramon winced. “We can be very flexible about how you pay.”
“Look, man, I don’t want to take advantage. I came to you for professional services. The personal stuff between us is separate. I believe in compartmentalizing.”
Something that looked close to anger flashed in Ramon’s eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of setting my own boundaries and picking my priorities. If I choose to give your case priority, it’s my decision and my responsibility.”
“What? You’re into impossible causes?” Justin took a long swallow of his beer and tipped his head back.
“When you’re finished feeling sorry for yourself, let’s see what we can do together to get you and your family out of this mess. I figure it’s my best shot at having something to celebrate this Christmas.”
Justin wanted to hug Ramon for his generosity. But this thing with Ramon was happening too fast, too easily. The mention of Ramon in connection with his family went way outside Justin’s comfort zone. Though his family fully accepted Justin’s mad genius-inventor persona, he still hadn’t gauged how they’d feel about his being gay. He’d never before thought of bringing home any boyfriends. Of course, none of his previous relationships had been particularly significant. But he sensed whatever he had with Ramon might just be very significant, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. With all the shit going on right now, he wasn’t in a good place to give it any real thought. Another area to compartmentalize.
Justin was accustomed to things breaking down or disappointing him in some way unless he worked his tail off to make them happen right. With Ramon being so terrific, so perfect without any effort from Justin to prop him up on a pedestal, Justin was waiting for the other shoe to drop. What horrible trick did fate plan for him if he really let Ramon into his life? Hell, what horrible trick beyond having the Tingle Bells get all fucked up right before Christmas? Justin couldn’t begin to grapple with the possibilities. He took a long swallow of beer. “So, you into slumming for this year’s Christmas adventure? I’d think polo much more your style.”
Ramon flinched back at this mention, and too late Justin remembered that was how his father had died. “If you want me to leave, Justin, why don’t you just say so?”
Shit, oh shit. What the fuck was wrong with him? In response, Justin went over and put his arms around Ramon. “I am so sorry. I’m just so freaking bent out of shape over the bells, you have no idea.”
Ramon laughed dryly. “Yeah, I do.” He rose. “Maybe this was a bad idea, my coming here.”
“I knew I should’ve given you the can of Lysol.”
“Look, you know what you have to do next. That’s all you wanted from me. Case closed.”
This couldn’t be happening.
He couldn’t have screwed up the most amazing shot he’d had in forever at something real. The Tingle Bells were a disaster, yeah. But if he let Ramon walk out, Justin would be letting one disaster set off a domino effect of catastrophes he might never get over. He took Ramon’s hands and put one over his heart and the other over his rising erection. “No, it’s not all I want from you. Far from it. Case definitely wide open.”
Ramon looked at him for a long moment, and Justin, unsure what the other man would do, thought his heart would burst out of his chest. Then Ramon squeezed his dick, which sent shock waves of pleasure through Justin. “So where’s that Lysol?”
“As luck would have it, I just changed my sheets this morning.” Justin led him to his bed.
“Really?” Ramon’s face lit up.
“No. But the condoms aren’t anywhere close to their expiration date.”
“Lead on, you silver-tongued devil.”
Chapter Four
Ramon was glad Justin had only one forty-watt bulb in his bedroom lamp. Ah hell, he was glad for lots more than that. Justin’s room may have left a lot to be desired, but Justin didn’t. After meeting him, Ramon would have found spending the night alone hellish even in the most perfect, pristine setting.
“I am so sorry for acting like such a jerk tonight. I’d say it was because I’m so upset about what’s happened to the Tingle Bells, but that doesn’t excuse me. Nothing does. Can you forgive me?”
Could Ramon forgive Justin? It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever acted like a jerk. “Yeah, yeah. I forgive you.” Ramon tried to keep his tone light, but Justin seemed to read right into his soul.
He took Ramon into his arms then and kissed him, tenderly at first. Justin’s lips grazed over Ramon’s, a butterfly touch, a second, a third. And then, with a sigh, Justin deepened the kiss. He licked the space between Ramon’s lips, prodding them open and laying claim with his tongue and teeth to Ramon’s eager mouth. Ramon hoped someday soon he and Justin would have the luxury of long, slow lovemaking starting with deep, luxurious kisses. He loved the feel of Justin’s lips on him. He savored Justin’s scent and taste, breathing him in with every move. But the urgency between them was too strong to allow for protracted foreplay. He wanted his cock in Justin, and he laid his hands on his lover’s butt to stake a claim.
