“She’s washing up in the bathroom,” Winnie said, patting my shoulder. “Don’t worry. She didn’t go back outside. I checked. She said that Peg disappeared while you guys were dealing with Aunt Tillie.”
“We need to find Peg,” I said, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Bay wasn’t loitering in the shadows. “She’s going to be really upset if we don’t make sure that Peg is returned to wherever she was.”
Winnie seemed surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Bay is worried that we ripped Peg from … a good place … when we did the séance,” I explained. “I don’t want her feeling guilty about this.”
“Because she did it for you,” Winnie said.
Was that why? “Yes,” I said. “I asked her to do it. I don’t want her upset. I don’t like it when she’s trapped in her own head.”
“That doesn’t happen as often as it used to,” Winnie said. “When she was a child, she was always trapped in her own head. It worried me.”
“And now?”
“And now you and Thistle won’t let her live her life that way. You’re both good for her that way.”
“Then why don’t you want her to come back to Traverse City with me?” It was a pointed question, but I really wanted to know.
Winnie pursed her lips and pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “She’s my daughter.”
“And you think I’m going to hurt her?”
“I think you’re going to make her happy,” Winnie said. “I also think I don’t want her moving away from Hemlock Cove. Not again.”
That seemed reasonable, which was a foreign concept in this house. “She’s going to be an hour away,” I said. “She’ll be back for the weekend.”
“I know,” Winnie said, “but … Bay needs this family.”
“I know Bay needs this family,” I said. “If you want to know the truth, I need this family, too. I would never try to take her away.”
Winnie sighed, her emotions weighing heavily on her face. “I’m very fond of you, Landon,” she said. “You make Bay smile more than anyone ever has. What about your job, though?”
“What about it?”
“You’re with the FBI,” Winnie said. “What if you get transferred?”
I opened my mouth, ready to tell her that wouldn’t happen. I was good at my job, and I liked my location. Most people were transferred for failing to accomplish their goals. That wasn’t me. I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t be transferred, though. I could put up a fight but, in the end, I might not have the final say. I decided to tell her the truth. “I would fight that.”
“What if you couldn’t stop it?”
I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Would you take Bay with you?”
Would I take Bay away from her family? Could I? I knew I didn’t want to be away from her, but I didn’t think I had it in me to make her miserable. “I can’t answer that question,” I said. “I’m happy where I am. My boss is happy with my work. I can’t worry about hypotheticals. I can only worry about what’s in front of me.
“Right now, I’m staying here,” I continued. “If a transfer comes up, I’ll tackle it then.”
“Will you let Bay make the decision with you?” Winnie wanted an answer, but she was also fearful about what it would be. Her conflicted face made that much obvious.
“I wouldn’t make a decision like that without Bay,” I said. “I love her.”
“Are you going to marry her?”
That was an uncomfortable question … and then some. “We’re not there yet.”
“Do you think you’ll get there?”
Are all mothers like this? I pictured my mother, relaxing slightly when I realized they were. This wasn’t only about Bay. It was a mother trying to get a handle on her daughter’s future. “Probably.”
Winnie seemed happy with my answer. “You’re still a good boy, Landon,” she said, patting my shoulder. “I’m going to make you bacon every day for a month.”
I smiled. “You’re definitely my favorite Winchester right now,” I said.
“What about Bay?”
“She has her own level.”
“You’re a charmer,” Winnie said, moving toward the kitchen. “You know you’re golden when even Aunt Tillie likes you.”
Speaking of Aunt Tillie … . “By the way, where is she?”
“I’M not talking about this,” Aunt Tillie said, leaning forward so she could show Annie Martin how to plant a petunia correctly.
After eating breakfast and returning to the guesthouse long enough to shower, we were back at the inn – and I was ready to take on Aunt Tillie. I didn’t give a fig about her list. “Oh, you’re talking about it.”
For her part, Annie seemed interested in the conversation. A few weeks before, an injured Annie stumbled upon Thistle, Bay and Aunt Tillie at the end of the driveway. She’d been in a car accident, and her mother Belinda was missing. Thanks to hard work, diligence, and a little witchy intervention, Belinda was found alive and saved. Now she worked at The Overlook full time, and Annie spent quite a few afternoons with Aunt Tillie so Belinda didn’t have to hire a babysitter. I couldn’t decide whether spending time with Aunt Tillie was good or bad for Annie. Aunt Tillie seemed to dote on the girl, but Annie was picking up a few bad habits.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Aunt Tillie said. “I was teaching those girls a valuable skill.”
Annie nodded solemnly. “There are horny beasts around every corner.”
That did it. “You can’t tell her things like that,” I said. “You’re going to warp her.”
“I’m not going to warp her,” Aunt Tillie said. “Basil, am I warping you?”
Aunt Tillie likes to change people’s names, and Annie was no exception. Even after finding out the girl’s real moniker, Aunt Tillie continued with the one she’d christened her with when she wasn’t talking in the initial hours after her discovery.
“She’s not warping me,” Annie said. “She’s molding me in the image of the niece she always wanted.”
Bay balked. “Hey! What about me?”
“You’re as good as you’re ever going to get,” Annie said. “You’re not bad, but you’re not perfect. I’m perfect.”
Bay’s face softened and she patted her lap. “Annie, will you come here please?”
Annie acquiesced, climbing up on Bay’s lap and fixing her expressive green eyes on her. “Did I do something wrong?”
Bay shot a look at Aunt Tillie. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Bay said. “You should know that everything Aunt Tillie tells you isn’t necessarily the truth.”
I snorted, earning a glare from Aunt Tillie.
“I am not a liar,” Aunt Tillie said.
“No, but you have a skewed perspective and you shouldn’t be forcing Annie to think as you do,” Bay said, keeping her voice even. “I know you love Annie, but do you really want her to grow up believing everything you say is the truth?”
“Everything I say is the truth,” Aunt Tillie replied. “If you had listened to me when you were her age, how much better would your life have been?”
“I happen to like the life I have right now very much,” Bay said, smiling at me. “You helped me a lot when I was a kid, but you also knew when to back off and let us figure out stuff on our own. You don’t seem to be doing that with Annie.”
“I’m her apprentice,” Annie said. “I’m helping her with the planting … and the oregano field.”
The oregano field? Now I really wanted to throttle Aunt Tillie. “That’s not oregano.”
“What is it?” Annie’s eyes were wide, and I realized I couldn’t tell her the truth.
“It’s … .”
“Oregano,” Aunt Tillie said, her tone clipped. “Don’t you even think of telling her otherwise.”
“It’s oregano,” I said. “You need to stop going out there with her, though.”
“But that’s my job,” Annie said, her eyes filling with te
ars. “I like to help.”
Great. How did I become the bad guy in all of this? “You can help her in the greenhouse,” I said. “You can help her up by the inn. You just can’t go to the oregano field.” I fixed my attention on Aunt Tillie. “You need to work with me here. I can only put up with so much, and you know what you’re doing out in that field is wrong for a little girl to be mixed up in.”
Aunt Tillie sighed. “Fine. Basil, you can’t go to the field. We’ll spend more time in the greenhouse.”
“But what about Marcus?” Annie asked. “He’s never in the greenhouse. He’s always in the field. How will I ever see him again?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to be able to help Marcus with his own project in a few weeks,” I said, realizing too late that I’d tipped my hand and was on the verge of revealing Marcus’ secret.
“What project?” Bay asked, suspicious.
Crap. “I … .”
Aunt Tillie smelled blood in the water and began to circle. “Is Marcus going to be cultivating his own … oregano?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “I knew it! He’s stealing my secret blend.”
“He’s not stealing your secret blend,” I snapped, rubbing the back of my neck. It’s too bad I can’t travel back in time. I’d like to take the bulk of this conversation back. “I can’t believe I opened my big mouth. I gossip like a woman. I swear.” I turned on Bay. “You’ve totally corrupted me.”
“Just tell us what’s going on,” Bay said, calmly. “If you don’t, our minds will run wild and then we’ll let something slip to Thistle and this whole thing will blow up.”
I considered the offer for a moment. I knew she was right. The smart thing to do now was tell the truth. “You have to swear not to tell anyone.” Isn’t that how all true gossipers start a sentence? I’ve sunk so low.
“I swear,” Bay said, pressing her hand to her heart. From her lap, Annie nodded with big eyes and mimed crossing her heart.
I turned to Aunt Tillie.
“I swear,” she said. “Unless he’s stealing my blend. Then I’m going to blow his ass … I mean butt … sky high.” She glanced at Annie. “I didn’t say the A-word.”
Annie ran her fingers over her lips, imitating a zipper closing.
I sighed. “Marcus is going to expand his business at the stable,” I said. “He’s going to till the field behind it and sell the vegetables. No oregano, just vegetables. He’s also going to open a petting zoo.”
I cut off my story there. I would never betray his trust on the proposal, and there was no way Bay could keep that to herself. I could only hope they’d focus on the business expansion and not realize I was holding something back.
“That’s a great idea,” Bay said, excited. “Why isn’t he telling anyone?”
“He wants to surprise Thistle,” I said. “He’s worried she’ll be upset because it will take up a lot of his time.”
“That’s nonsense,” Aunt Tillie said. “Thistle will be the first to volunteer to help. We all will. I agree with Bay. That’s a great idea. He’s clearly thinking. Now I know why he’s been so fixated on asking me about root cuttings and irrigation systems. I’m proud of him.”
The sentiment took me off guard. “You are?”
“He’s a good boy,” Aunt Tillie said. “He’s good for Thistle. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. He’ll be surprised when he tells Thistle. She’s going to be excited about it, and she’s going to want to help. Heck, she could make a few sculptures for the petting zoo. I’ll bet she’ll enjoy that.”
Every time I think Aunt Tillie can’t throw me she proves me wrong. She’s mean and nasty and cold when she wants to be. She’s also loyal, loving and delightful when the mood strikes. She’s a true enigma.
She’s still a pain in the ass.
“Thank you for not telling anyone,” I said. “It’s important for Marcus to be able to tell Thistle himself.”
“Is he going to have goats?” Annie asked.
“Where?”
“At the petting zoo,” Annie said. “I love goats.”
Bay smiled and smoothed Annie’s flyaway hair. “I’m sure he will,” she said. “We can ask him when he’s ready.”
“How about ducks?”
“Oh, ducks are a must,” Bay said. “I’ll bet he lets us feed them.”
“What about unicorns?”
Bay pursed her lips, unsure. I decided to answer for her. “Unicorns are very rare,” I said. “It’s illegal to put them in petting zoos.”
“That’s a bummer,” Annie said. “Maybe we can get a unicorn for the greenhouse?”
“No four-footed friends in the greenhouse,” Aunt Tillie said. “They make a mess.”
“Well, that sucks.”
Bay frowned. “Who taught you to say that? Did Aunt Tillie teach you that?”
Annie shook her head. “I heard it from you.”
“Oh.” Bay faltered. “Well, I shouldn’t say that. Don’t say that again.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Seeing Bay with Annie, even though the girl gravitated more toward Aunt Tillie and Thistle, made me smile. “None of us should say it again,” I said. “In fact … .”
I broke off when I saw Bay’s attention drift to the spot behind Aunt Tillie. I had a feeling I knew what she was looking at.
“Um, Annie, why don’t we go inside and get some lemonade?” I offered, extending my hand to the girl.
“Why?” Annie asked.
“Aren’t you thirsty?” I didn’t want to frighten her, and the idea that a ghost was there – even if she couldn’t see it – would do just that.
Annie shook her head.
“How about a cookie then?”
“Why are you trying to bribe her?” Aunt Tillie asked, risking a glance over her shoulder. She frowned when she focused on … something. I was guessing she could see Peg floating a few feet away. “Oh. Well, great. I guess this is the development you guys were talking about earlier. The spell worked after all.”
I shot her a look. “We shouldn’t be talking about that now,” I said. “Come on, Annie. Let’s get some cookies.”
Annie scrunched up her face. “I don’t want cookies,” she said. “I want to see what the floating lady has to say.”
And here I was thinking things couldn’t get more complicated. I was obviously wrong. There’s never a dull moment in Hemlock Cove – and this day had just tipped into overdrive.
Ten
“You can see a floating lady?” Bay asked carefully. “Where?”
Annie pointed to the spot behind Aunt Tillie. “She has red hair and she looks sad.”
I grabbed Annie from Bay’s lap and lifted her. “We’re going inside.”
“But I want to talk to the floating lady,” Annie complained. “I don’t want cookies.”
“You’ll live,” I said, carrying Annie into the inn even though she wriggled wildly. “It’s better this way.”
I dropped Annie in the kitchen, putting her hand securely in Marnie’s before turning to leave.
“What’s going on?” Winnie asked.
“We have something to deal with on the back patio,” I said.
“Oh.” Winnie obviously understood.
“It’s a floating lady,” Annie said. “They don’t want me to talk about her or see her, but I know she was there.”
Winnie pursed her lips. “We’ll talk about the floating lady,” she said. “We can do it with cookies and lemonade.”
“I want to see her,” Annie said, jutting out her lower lip. “She was … sparkly.”
I glanced at Winnie. “Can you handle this?”
Winnie smirked. “This isn’t the first sparkly lady a child has told me about,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Of course she’d be the best person to deal with this situation. “You might want to talk to her mother, too.”
“She’s upstairs cleaning rooms right now,” Winnie said. “I can handle that.”
“Ar
e you sure?”
“Go help Bay,” Winnie said. “Find Peg’s body. Bring her home.”
I mock saluted, although part of the gesture was heartfelt. “We’ll keep in touch.”
“WHERE are we?” I asked, wiping the sweat from my forehead.
“Do you see those trees?” Aunt Tillie asked, pointing.
I nodded.
“We’re in the woods.”
“Now I know why you drive Bay and Thistle batshit crazy,” I said. “I think it’s in your DNA.”
“And just think,” Aunt Tillie said, “Bay is going to end up just like me.”
That was a sobering thought.
Bay patted my arm to reassure me. “I’ll probably be more like my mother than Aunt Tillie.”
I wasn’t sure that was a better outcome. “It’s fine,” I said. “I just … are we sure we know where we’re going?”
After twenty minutes of prodding, Bay finally managed to get Peg to talk. Her answers were vague, though, and she seemed tortured by her new reality. Finally, Bay told her she could cross back over as soon as she revealed the site of her body. If Bay’s description was to be believed, Peg seemed happy with the offer.
So, after a brief drive to her old house, I followed an elderly woman in a ridiculous gardening hat and her reticent niece into the woods. They, in turn, followed a dead woman I couldn’t see. I wanted to complain, but it was impossible. It wasn’t as if this was the first time this had happened. How sad is that?
“I won’t let you get lost,” Bay said.
I knew she wasn’t talking down to me, but it still felt like it. “Great.”
“And I won’t let Bigfoot get you,” Aunt Tillie added.
“What?”
“I heard you’re afraid of the woods,” Aunt Tillie said. “Don’t worry. I won’t let Bigfoot get you.”
“Bigfoot isn’t real,” I said.
“That’s what people said about Santa Claus,” Aunt Tillie said.
“He’s not real either.”
“That must be why you get so few presents at Christmas,” Aunt Tillie mused.
I moved to the other side of Bay, putting her between Aunt Tillie and me in case my hands slipped and closed around her throat before I could stop myself. “You know I love you, right?”
On a Witch and a Prayer: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short Page 8
