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Christmas Witch List--A Westwick Witches Cozy Mystery

Page 6

by Colleen Cross


  But ghosts don’t need money and Grandma Vi just wanted her house back. Now, the one week we were closed for the season had been invaded by strangers too. Dominic wasn’t even a paying guest.

  For tonight at least, I shared Grandma Vi’s feelings. It was Christmas Eve, after all. At least Tyler’s presence was one small consolation for her. She adored Tyler, even though he didn’t know she existed.

  Grandma Vi’s face brightened as if she had read my mind. In fact, she had. Mind reading was one of her supernatural talents.

  Her smile was contagious. Before I could stop myself, I was smiling too.

  “What’s so funny?” Tyler followed my gaze. “Too much holiday cheer already?”

  Grandma Vi wiggled her finger. “Ooh! Somebody’s got a secret. Does Ruby know how hot and heavy you two are? Maybe he’ll pop the question tonight.”

  Of course Mom knew. Grandma just wanted to provoke a reaction from me. I held up my arm, palm outwards, traffic cop style. “Just stop it.”

  “Stop what?” Tyler scanned the hallway, frowning when he didn’t see anyone. “Is this more of your weird family stuff?”

  “Um, yeah…something like that. Why don’t you head into the dining room? We just sat down to eat. I’ll be there in a sec.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Disappointment flashed across his face.

  Great. Now Tyler thought I was annoyed with him. I waited until he was out of earshot. “Cut it out, Grandma.”

  Grandma Vi clasped her hands together. “Such a nice young man, and you’re so grumpy. Don’t let him get away, Cen. You would make such a sweet couple!”

  “We already are a couple. And you’re nuts.” I turned away from Grandma Vi and headed to the dining room.

  She trailed after me, her ghostly aura a mix of angry orange and reds. “You’re calling me crazy? My granddaughter, my own flesh and blood, hurling insults when all I want to do is make friends—”

  “You’re overreacting, Grandma. You know I didn’t mean it like that.” I stopped in the living room, determined to end our spat before we reached everyone in the dining room. “Let’s go eat.”

  “I’m a ghost, Cen. You know I can’t eat. Stop taunting me!” She rubbed her stomach with a transparent hand.

  “Sorry, Grandma. I just meant that I’ll miss you if you don’t join us at the table.”

  We both jumped as a gust of wind blew the front door open. The door thudded against the wall before half closing again.

  I ran to the door, certain I had closed it.

  A woman’s voice froze me in my tracks. It wasn’t the wind after all.

  8

  “Wait!” A bleach-blonde in a black leather jacket waved to me as she walked briskly across the driveway. Her sequined miniskirt ended just a few inches below her jacket hem, exposing chubby legs. Her only weather-appropriate attire was her snow boots. Judging by her awkward gait, they were too big and borrowed. An oversized red leather purse was slung over her shoulder. She carried a pair of red patent pumps in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

  “Can I help you?” I stepped onto the porch and closed the front door behind me. I stood there shoeless, my arms crossed against the biting wind and frigid temperature.

  “You better believe you can help me. You must be Cen.” She paused at the bottom of the steps and let out an enormous sigh. She just stood there, as if she expected me to descend the stairs to meet her.

  I didn’t. “That’s me. Do I know you?”

  She climbed the stairs without answering. She shoved a bottle into my arms. “Here, take this.”

  I took the bottle as she passed me, spraying snow all over my stocking feet. I recognized the label. It was a cheap white wine popular at gas stations and 24-hour convenience stores, probably a last-minute purchase though it wasn’t even chilled.

  I had never seen her before, and Westwick Corners was so small that I knew everyone in town. I even knew most of the locals’ out-of-town guests too. Most of those guests hadn’t even made it into town because of the snowstorm. Yet here she was, acting like she owned the place.

  I followed behind her as she waited expectantly at the front door.

  Bleach-blondie reached the front door and stomped the snow off her boots. She waited impatiently for me to open the door. “You gonna let me in? I gotta get inside and warmed up.”

  “Oh my!” Grandma Vi hovered beside me. “I don’t like the looks of this tart.”

  I glared at Grandma Vi before turning to the woman. “Thanks. The wine looks lovely. Are you a friend of—?”

  She held out her hand. “I’m Gail. Didn’t Brayden tell you I was coming?”

  “Wait—what?” I shook her hand and turned. A man hurried across the driveway. My heart sank as I recognized Brayden, my ex-fiancé. Surely, he knew that his standing invitation to the West family Christmas Eve dinner had ended with our broken engagement earlier this year. Brayden was self-centered, but even he wasn’t that dense.

  Or maybe he did know and decided to show up anyway. With a date, no less. Knowing him, he probably wanted to make me jealous. Or, at the very least, show off a date since I would be with Tyler.

  Brayden waved and quickened his pace. “Hey, Cen. I see you’ve already met my girlfriend, Gail.” He emphasized the last three words for effect.

  “I uh…wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here?” As Westwick Corners’ mayor, Brayden was also Tyler’s boss. I doubted that his visit was anything work-related. Gail’s wine bottle confirmed that. My Christmas Eve worsened by the minute.

  “Pearl didn’t tell you? She invited me—I mean us.” He clamped a hand on Gail’s shoulder. “Let’s get inside. It’s freezing cold out here.”

  Grandma Vi perked up as Gail and Brayden walked past her into the hallway. She started singing a Shania Twain song. “It’s gonna be a party, uh-huh…”

  “Grandma, stop that!” My whisper was just loud enough to stop Brayden in his tracks. He turned around.

  “Still talking to yourself, I see.” Brayden tossed their coats onto the hallway staircase banister. He turned and smirked before following Gail into the dining room.

  I shut the door and leaned against it. Aunt Pearl was definitely up to something. I was beyond furious at her for inviting all these people. She had suddenly morphed from anti-social to party planner, inviting people I did not want to spend even a minute with. Maybe that was the party theme, given the arrival of my ex-fiancé and his strange new girlfriend.

  “It’s not all about you, Cen.” Grandma Vi intruded into my thoughts. “Lighten up.”

  Maybe our strange roster of guests was Aunt Pearl’s attempt at comedy. Witch games were a family tradition on Christmas Eve. We cast mischievous spells and tried to out-witch each other with supernatural high jinks. But we never involved ordinary people. I worried that Aunt Pearl was about to take things a little too far.

  I headed into the dining room and placed Gail’s gas station wine on the table. My dream Christmas was shaping up to be a bit of a nightmare, and it would only get worse.

  And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

  Even if the last person I wanted to spend Christmas Eve with was the man I had left at the altar. Even if he had the nerve to bring his new girlfriend. Even if my romantic dream Christmas was ruined.

  And even though I knew Aunt Pearl had something up her sleeve, I was powerless to stop it.

  9

  The conversation around the dinner table was awkward and stilted with our strange assortment of guests. Aunt Pearl had insisted Gail and Brayden sit opposite Tyler and me, so we had to stare across the table at one another all night long. Her seating arrangement was no doubt designed to stir up trouble between my current and former beaus.

  Aunt Amber sat on Tyler’s left and Aunt Pearl flanked my right in kind of an aunt sandwich.

  Merlinda sat on Brayden’s left. Dominic sat beside Merlinda with Santa-clad Earl on his other side at the foot of the table. Mom was at the head of the table
nearest to the kitchen door.

  Gail’s smile from moments earlier had been replaced by a frown. She was fixated on Merlinda and not in a good way. At first, she stole sideways glances, but now it was a full-on glare. No wonder, since Brayden was staring unabashedly at Merlinda.

  While I couldn’t blame Gail for being jealous, her reaction seemed a bit obsessive. Her eyes flashed with hatred as she watched Merlinda’s every move. Trouble was brewing. In fact, it was almost at the boiling point.

  Brayden’s enjoyment at being wedged between the two women was obvious. Even so, he remained completely oblivious to Gail’s worsening mood as he helped himself to a freshly baked bun.

  “Red or white?” Earl opened the red wine and poured glasses of merlot, followed by the white wine, a Sauvignon Blanc. I opted for the red as did everyone else except Gail, Brayden, and Merlinda, who chose the white.

  Dominic shook his head and tapped his bottle. “I’ll stick with beer.”

  Earl finished pouring the wine before helping himself to the eggnog. “I’m going to try some of Amber’s concoction. From what I can see, it’s got a bit of punch to it.”

  Aunt Amber giggled and raised her glass in a mock toast. “It’s got a kick, all right.”

  Aunt Pearl was unusually chatty, boasting about Merlinda’s academic achievements, though in nonspecific terms. She was no doubt trying to guilt me into returning to Pearl’s Charm School. Well, I wasn’t taking the bait.

  As Aunt Pearl droned on and on about Merlinda, my thoughts drifted.

  Gail lifted her wineglass to her lips and just as quickly slammed it down on the table, spilling wine everywhere.

  I was jolted back to reality as I watched an enraged Gail from across the table. Someone, or something, had upset her, though I had been too distracted to notice. Whatever it was had triggered Gail’s anger. She was a lit fuse ready to explode at any moment. I wanted to say something, but no one else seemed to notice her but me.

  Aunt Pearl patted my hand, seemingly oblivious to Gail’s anger. “All you have to do is apply yourself, Cen. No need to be a dropout. School’s not that hard.”

  Gail interrupted before I got a chance to answer. She leaned forward and stared sideways at Merlinda. “What exactly are you studying here in Westwick Corners, Merlinda?”

  “Um…philosophy and mysticism,” Merlinda said.

  Brayden shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  I doubted his discomfort stemmed from either Gail’s bad vibes or the mystical references. He was generally oblivious to other people’s feelings. More than likely, it was because no one had passed him the turkey platter yet.

  “There’s no university here in Westwick Corners,” Gail pointed out. “Where are you going to school?”

  Despite my feelings about Merlinda, I felt a need to butt in. “Merlinda’s researching her thesis. What are you doing here, Gail?”

  Mom’s mouth dropped open. “What Cen means is—”

  “I’ve never seen you in town before, Gail,” I went on. “Did you just move here?” It was possible that I hadn’t noticed her in Westwick Corners because Brayden was purposely avoiding me. On the other hand, Brayden had brought Gail to our family Christmas Eve celebration. Hardly avoidance. No, he was too self-centered to even register my feelings as a social faux pas. He did notice one person, though.

  Merlinda. Brayden just couldn’t take his eyes off her. If she wasn’t such a recluse, he likely would have met her around town earlier. And maybe things would have been a lot less awkward.

  Gail shook her head. “Uh, no. I live in Shady Creek. Brayden and I usually hang out there. We couldn’t make it back to Shady Creek with the highway closed, so Pearl insisted we come here for dinner…”

  “Glad we did.” Brayden’s voice trailed off as he gazed trancelike at Merlinda.

  I turned to Tyler. He seemed oblivious to Merlinda’s charms.

  “Brayden said the roads were too dangerous. Right, Bray?” Gail craned her neck to get Brayden’s attention, but it was no use.

  By now Brayden was openly gawking at Merlinda. He was completely turned around in his chair, and his backside faced Gail.

  For a moment, I thought Brayden’s over the top obsession was some of Aunt Pearl’s witchery, but even she shook her head in disgust.

  Dominic noticed Brayden’s fixation too. Dominic’s face flushed with anger, though he tried hard to contain himself. He guzzled what remained of his beer and slammed the bottle down on the table.

  “Bray? I asked you a question.” Gail laser-focused on Brayden first, then Dominic. “What’s wrong with you guys?”

  Things were quickly deteriorating. Gail was a powder keg, ready to explode. I had to somehow diffuse the situation, but how?

  “Brayden’s got other things on his mind besides you, Gail,” Aunt Pearl said. “He didn’t hear a word you said.”

  “Aunt Pearl!” I glared at her, furious at her attempt to stir up trouble.

  She smiled sweetly at me and patted her lips with a napkin.

  “Brayden!” Gail yanked on Brayden’s shoulder. “Look at me!”

  As Brayden turned away from Merlinda, his elbow hit his wineglass, spilling white wine all over the tablecloth.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Gail exclaimed. “A full glass of wine, wasted!”

  Brayden shook his head. “If you hadn’t grabbed my shoulder…”

  Nobody dared mention that Gail had spilled her own wine just moments earlier. You could literally cut the tension in the room with a knife. Even Grandma Vi picked up on the vibe. She hovered above Gail’s head, butter knife in hand.

  “What the heck—?” Gail’s hand flew to her hair. “Something just landed on my head.” She brushed a glob of butter from her hair as she stared up at the ceiling.

  Grandma Vi, invisible as always, giggled. Then Aunt Pearl laughed, followed by Aunt Amber. Everyone erupted into peals of laughter.

  Except me.

  And Gail.

  She frowned as she studied the blob in the palm of her hand. “How the hell did this get in my hair? It looks like melted butter.”

  Aunt Pearl snorted. “I can’t believe it’s not butter.”

  “I know whose buns I’d like to butter.” Grandma Vi’s inappropriate comment at least brought Aunt Amber to her senses.

  Aunt Amber gasped. “Sorry, dear. I accidentally flicked it off my knife when I buttered my bun. Fun fact: I think it’s good for your skin.”

  “My skin doesn’t need anything extra. Somebody pass me the buns.” Gail’s frown deepened. She scanned up and down the table looking for the dinner rolls. Her eyes stopped on Brayden, who had just picked up the breadbasket.

  Brayden’s eyes were locked on Merlinda as he held out the breadbasket with two hands like a love-struck butler. He sucked in his breath as she extended a tawny manicured hand and delicately selected a bun.

  Conversation around the table stopped as the silent drama unfolded.

  I half-expected Brayden to bow or kiss Merlinda’s hand, except he was seated and already had his hands full with the breadbasket.

  Gail cleared her throat and glared at Brayden’s back. Her face flushed as she waited for Brayden to turn back around and pass her the dinner rolls.

  Instead, Brayden nodded sweetly at Merlinda and set the breadbasket down on the table.

  Gail cleared her throat. “You didn’t hear a word I said. Did you, Brayden?”

  “Huh?” Brayden’s expression was kind of a scared deer-in-the-headlights look.

  My normally confident ex-boyfriend was afraid of Gail. I had never seen him that way before, and it worried me.

  “Never mind. I’ll do it myself.” Gail reached in front of Brayden and grabbed the bun basket. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”

  I kind of knew where Gail was coming from. It wasn’t witchcraft or even feminine wiles. But whatever it was, men simply melted in Merlinda’s presence. Even more maddening than them falling under her spell was that she seemed complete
ly oblivious to their weird behavior. That’s how life was for beautiful people. They were so used to dealing with legions of admirers that they remained unaware of their special treatment.

  I wouldn’t know. Though I managed to turn a few heads when I wore makeup and a curvy dress, it paled in comparison to the reaction Merlinda got. I sensed that most men would do just about anything to get her attention. And I mean anything—short of a felony. She was simply that drop-dead gorgeous.

  I refocused on Gail, who, by now, looked ready to punch someone. Instead, she poured herself some merlot. She downed the glass within minutes. Then she leaned back in her chair and sighed. She was beaten, and she knew it.

  Brayden stared at Merlinda, his empty fork midway between plate and mouth.

  “Some wine?” Hoping to lighten the mood, Aunt Amber had left the table and returned with a fresh bottle of merlot. She filled Gail’s empty wineglass first, and then continued around the table.

  Aunt Amber’s strategy was brilliant: eliminate the friction by getting Gail so drunk that she didn’t care anymore.

  Grandma Vi, hovered behind me, still fixated on Gail. “This woman is all wrong for Brayden.”

  “Since when do you care?” The words came out before I could stop them. Grandma Vi had never liked Brayden much in the first place, so her disapproval of Gail as a suitable partner for Brayden surprised me.

  “What?” Tyler paused, his glass halfway to his mouth. “Who are you talking to?”

  Brayden rolled his eyes. “You haven’t noticed? She does that all the time.”

  Gail’s face turned crimson as she glared at me. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

  I avoided her gaze. “Sorry. I was just thinking out loud.” I couldn’t talk to Grandma Vi in front of the guests. I was dying to ask what she meant about Gail, but that would have to wait for later.

  Grandma Vi hummed “Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under” as she danced back and forth above the carrots and mashed potatoes. She really was obsessed with Shania Twain.

 

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