Harper Grant 03-A Witchy Christmas

by DS Butler

  Grandma Grant marched inside and said, “Merry Christmas.”

  My mother quickly walked over to her and said, “It’s lovely to see you, Priscilla. It’s been far too long. The house looks lovely and Christmassy.”

  Grandma Grant allowed my mother to kiss her on the cheek and then she turned her attention to her son.

  “Sebastien.”

  “Mother.”

  My father got to his feet, leaving Smudge disgruntled at the abrupt lack of attention. Jess and I exchanged a look. This was awkward. It felt like the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped a few degrees.

  Jess and I went to the kitchen under the pretext of getting everyone a drink.

  “This is going to be worse than I thought,” Jess said frowning. “Do you know what happened the last time they saw each other?”

  I shook my head. “Not exactly. I know it had something to do with magic, though.”

  I craned my neck to look back into the living room, I wanted to keep an eye on Grandma Grant and my father, but I was also keen to keep one eye on Bernie and make sure he wasn’t causing any mischief.

  To my horror, I saw Bernie sitting on the arm of the couch, flicking one of the baubles on the Christmas tree, making it sway back and forth. He’d attracted the attention of Athena and Smudge, who were both sitting at the base of the tree, looking intently at the moving Christmas tree decoration.

  Unfortunately, this also drew my father’s attention.

  He frowned and got to his feet, starting to walk toward the Christmas tree to investigate. Before he could, I sprinted out of the kitchen straight up to the tree and grabbed hold of the bauble, giving Bernie a furious look. I then proceeded to tell off Athena and Smudge for playing with the Christmas tree even though they’d only sat there watching innocently. I felt a little guilty about blaming the cats, but that was a much better option than my father finding out we were entertaining a ghost at Christmas.

  If he didn’t like Grandma Grant’s spells, goodness only knew what he would make of me talking to and interacting with a ghost. My father was looking at me suspiciously, clearly noticing my strange behavior. Luckily, Jess saved the day by coming in with a tray of drinks and handing them around. “Grandma Grant has put a lot of effort into this lunch. It smells delicious, doesn’t it?”

  Everyone nodded, and there were murmurs of agreement as we raised our glasses in a toast.

  For the next twenty minutes, Bernie managed to behave himself, and I began to get caught up on everything that had been going on in Lily’s life at school as well as how my parents were getting along in their jobs. I told them my work at the diner was going well as I glanced at my watch anxiously.

  Joe should have been here by now. I realized I was disappointed he wasn’t coming. The telephone rang, and Grandma Grant went to answer it only to return shortly and tell me that it had been Joe.

  “It was Deputy McGrady,” she said. “He can’t make it. Something has come up in the murder investigation.”

  That opened up a whole can of worms as Lily demanded to know all the details about the murder. So I quickly filled them in. My mother looked quite alarmed, and I knew she would try to persuade Jess and me to leave Abbott Cove again later.

  Jess took one look at my mother’s worried face and quickly changed the subject, telling everyone about her new project at the library, working with the schoolchildren of Abbott Cove Elementary School.

  The only person who didn’t volunteer any information about their life was Grandma Grant. She was very quiet, and I wasn’t used to it.

  When it was finally time for lunch, we trailed into the formal dining room. It was a large room with a huge table at the center. It was hardly ever used because we never had enough guests to warrant it. Even today, I thought we would probably have been more comfortable and relaxed if we had all crowded around the kitchen table, but Grandma Grant wanted today to be special, and she had dusted and polished the dining table until it shone. The Christmas table decorations were quirky and fun, and she’d even gone through a box of old family silver to find some candlestick holders.

  Jess lit the candles as Bernie zoomed into the room after us, making the flames flicker. I glared at him as he floated on the ceiling above us, but I didn’t dare say anything as my father had come to sit down beside me.

  Jess helped Grandma Grant bring the food in from the kitchen, and I made sure everyone’s drinks were topped up. As I did so, I chatted to Lily, trying to find a subtle way to find out if she had developed any magical abilities yet. As she was turning sixteen this year, if she had inherited any magical tendencies, I predicted they would be apparent within the next few months.

  When my casual questions didn’t hit the mark, I decided to be slightly more obvious. “So, Lily, has anything unusual happened lately?”

  I sensed my father frown as I sat back down, but I continued to look at Lily steadily. My father wasn’t like other people. Most people would be completely oblivious to the undercurrents of what I was asking, but then most people didn’t know about magic. My father understood magic very well, but he had turned his back on it. This really hadn’t been the best time to question Lily. I would have preferred to speak to her when we were alone, but I wasn’t sure we would get the chance today. My parents would do their best to make sure they could watch Lily at all times because they didn’t want her to know anything about magic or the fact we were descended from generations of Grant witches.

  Lily took a sip of lemonade and shook her head. “Not really. Everything is a bit boring and predictable. My life revolves around school, band and debate team.”

  I kept in touch with Lily via email and text message, as did Jess, but that wasn’t really the way I felt I could approach a subject like magic. My father’s eyebrows knitted together, but before he could say anything, Grandma Grant walked into the dining room, proudly carrying the turkey. She set it in the center of the table and asked my father if he would like to carve.

  Lunch really did look delicious, and it was very hard to believe that there was no magic involved.

  “You’ve spoiled us, Mother,” my father said as the knife slid through the white breast of the turkey. “Everything looks lovely.”

  Grandma Grant smiled warmly, and I thought the atmosphere was improving little by little. Despite the fact conversation over lunch was a little stilted because we were all trying to avoid the subject of magic, lunch wasn’t too bad. The potatoes were perhaps a little too salty, and the green beans and sprouts a little too well done, but it actually made me happy. It meant that Grandma Grant hadn’t used magic. I was really proud of her because I knew she was finding this difficult. It was always hard when you had to pretend to be something you weren’t.

  Jess and I cleared the table after we had finished lunch and the relief on Grandma Grant’s face that everything had gone well was obvious.

  “Come on, Sebastien,” she said. “You can help me with the brandy pudding. I need someone with a steady hand to light the flame.”

  My father smiled, put his napkin on the table and went to follow my grandmother out of the dining room as Jess and I finished clearing the table and got the dishes out ready for pudding.

  The dish Jess was holding fell to the table with a clatter when we heard a roar of outrage from my father. We all exchanged startled looks and then rushed out into the main living area.

  “I can’t believe it. You promised me, mother!” My father growled.

  At first, I couldn’t see what the matter was. There hadn’t been any magic used during lunch as far as I could tell, and then I saw what he was looking at.

  At the far end of the room beside the window was the Christmas tree. It no longer looked green and healthy. All the needles had turned brown and had fallen on the floor together with most of the baubles, much to Smudge’s satisfaction as he scampered after them, batting them around with his paws.

  I groaned. There had only been one small spell. Why did it have to go wrong now?


  “That’s it! We are leaving,” he said.

  Lily whined and told him he wasn’t being fair. Jess and I tried to persuade him he was being unreasonable as did my mother, but he wasn’t listening. Throughout it all, Grandma Grant just watched the proceedings with a blank face and pursed lips. She had tried so hard, and I was really angry with my father for making such a fuss. But he was absolutely determined that Lily wouldn’t be around any magical nonsense. Within five minutes, they were back in the car, buckled up, and heading back to New York City.

  Jess and I watch them go, waving sadly. When I went back inside, Grandma Grant was standing silently by the fire, staring into the flames.

  I walked over to her and put my hand on her shoulder. “I am really sorry about how things turned out today,” I said. “For the record, I thought he was being entirely unreasonable.”

  Grandma Grant straightened. “Good riddance,” she said. “It’s a waste of time trying to pander to his sort. I’ll never be good enough. And I’m tired of trying to be something I’m not.”

  She sounded almost back to her normal, brash, no-nonsense self, but the look in her eyes told me she was disappointed. More than that, she was hurt and upset.

  CHAPTER 12

  It wasn’t the most enjoyable Christmas Day we had ever had. After we’d finished clearing up, Jess and Grandma Grant’s squabbled over whose fault it was that the Christmas tree spell had run out too soon. I decided to keep out of it and hide in the living room with Smudge on my lap and Bernie by my side.

  “You know, your grandma doesn’t seem very happy.”

  I gave Bernie a sideways glance. He would certainly win the prize for stating the most obvious fact of the afternoon.

  “If only the spell had lasted another few hours, none of this would have happened.” I sighed as I stroked Smudge’s soft fur and she purred in approval.

  Grandma Grant walked over to the fire and sat down in her easy chair. Jess returned the posh crystal glasses we’d been using at lunch to the cabinet and then joined us in front of the fire.

  “We could try the spell again,” she suggested, looking at the bare twigs in the corner of the room that had been the Christmas tree. I had already picked up the tinsel and baubles because Smudge and Athena kept getting tangled up in them.

  Grandma Grant huffed out a breath. “It’s not worth it,” she said. “Christmas is practically over anyway.”

  There was a knock at the door, and I stood up to answer it, but Grandma Grant held out a hand. “Not so fast, Harper.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I am not in the mood to deal with whining customers, complaining because their Christmas tree has lost its needles. Make yourself useful, Bernie.” Grandma Grant looked around the room as though she would be able to see him.

  I pointed to the side of the fire where Bernie was hovering over the mantelpiece. Grandma Grant looked at the spot where I had pointed and said, “Look out of the window and tell us who it is.”

  “It might be Joe,” I said, not wanting to leave him standing out there in the cold.

  “If it is, Bernie can tell us.” Grandma Grant clicked her fingers.

  Pleased to be useful, Bernie zoomed over to the windows and peered out through the partially drawn curtains. He turned around, his eyes gleaming. “It is Mr. and Mrs. Townsend, and they don’t look happy.”

  I repeated what Bernie had said.

  Grandma Grant waved a hand dismissively. “Ignore them. They’ll only be here to complain. You would think they would have something better to do on Christmas Day.”

  I sank lower in my chair as Mr. and Mrs. Townsend hammered again on the front door. Grandma Grant got to her feet and walked over to her old-fashioned stereo system. She put on a collection of Christmas carols and turned them up loud. Unfortunately, we could still hear them hammering on the door.

  Bernie pulled back the curtains so that he could see better. “They really do look angry,” he said. “Mr. Townsend’s face is turning purple. They’ve got that Pomeranian with them. Do you think they ever go anywhere without that dog?”

  I turned to Bernie and said, “Get away from the curtains!”

  Bernie turned around and rolled his eyes. “They can’t see me, Harper. It is perfectly safe.”

  “Maybe not, but they can see the curtains twitching.”

  Bernie dropped the curtain fabric and looked sheepish. “Sorry, I didn’t think about that.” He flew back over to the fire, and we sat there, listening to loud carols blasting out of the speakers as a succession of angry Abbott Cove residents climbed up the hill to knock on our door.

  A couple of hours passed before they finally gave up. By that time, we were all feeling a little down. In an attempt to cheer everybody up and to impress Grandma Grant with my new spell-casting skills I had learned from the spell book she’d given me a few months ago, I decided to put on a little show. It wouldn’t be as impressive as something that Grandma Grant or Jess could do, but I had been practicing and was eager to show off my new skills.

  I took to the center of the room and told them to prepare to be amazed. I was exaggerating my abilities, of course, but I wanted to put on a bit of a show to lighten the atmosphere.

  “I need an assistant,” I said reaching for Athena, who gave a surprised yelp.

  “Don’t make such a fuss,” I muttered to the cat. “It won’t take long.”

  The last chapter I had read in the spell book had been about color switching spells, and I was eager to test my knowledge.

  Athena was wearing a red collar, and I decided that it would be simple enough to try and change it to blue. I thought that Grandma Grant and Jess would be impressed, especially considering my track record with spells.

  Athena wasn’t a very good assistant. She kept trying to wander off back to her spot by the fire, and I kept having to grab her and put her back in position. After the fourth attempt at the spell, I was starting to suspect Athena was trying to make me look bad on purpose.

  “Will you stay still?”

  I held Athena in place as I muttered the rest of the spell, closing my eyes to help me concentrate. When I had finished reciting the words, I heard gasps from Jess and Grandma Grant, and I smiled. I was sure they’d be very impressed, and I imagined myself taking on more challenging and complicated spells after this.

  “Ta da,” I said dramatically as I opened my eyes.

  Unfortunately, I’d spoken too soon.

  “Oh, my goodness,” I said, looking down at Athena in front of me. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  Athena was looking up at me, her green eyes narrowed to slits. I couldn’t say I blamed her.

  Her fur was entirely blue!

  For a moment, no one spoke. You could have heard a pin drop. Finally, I raised my eyes and dared to look at Grandma Grant, expecting her to be absolutely furious with me for turning her cat blue. But instead, I saw her mouth begin to twitch and then she exploded into laughter, and Jess soon joined in.

  “I was only supposed to change the color of the collar,” I muttered.

  Grandma Grant couldn’t stop laughing. She wiped the tears away from her eyes and said, “Oh, Harper, I didn’t think I would be laughing today. Thank you.”

  I got to my feet, put my hands on my hips and looked down at Athena. Hopefully, the spell would wear off soon, or maybe I could get Jess to reverse it.

  I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “I guess I still have a little way to go with my spells 101 book.”

  “A long way to go,” Bernie said. “It’s a good job you can see ghosts, Harper, because you’re terrible at spells.”

  “I am not terrible. I’m just…not gifted in that department.”

  Jess stifled a laugh as I glared at Bernie.

  CHAPTER 13

  I’d just about forgiven Bernie by the following morning, although he still wasn’t my favorite person. We walked down the hill together toward the town because I had a shift at the diner. Archie was opening
the diner for a special Boxing Day breakfast.

  I was glad I was going to be working because I figured it would keep my mind off our family problems. Grandma Grant was pretending she wasn’t bothered in the slightest by our father storming off yesterday, but I knew she was hiding her hurt feelings. Unfortunately, Grandma Grant kept her feelings bottled up. I wanted to hug her and tell her how Jess and I looked up to her even if our father didn’t, but I knew that wasn’t a good idea. She wasn’t really the hugging type. And she would hate the whole concept of sitting around and talking about feelings.

  “I don’t know why you’re so worried about her, Harper,” Bernie said as he hovered along beside me. “Your grandmother is the strongest woman I have ever met.”

  I had to admit Bernie was right. Grandma Grant was very strong, some might say even a little overbearing, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be hurt. It was only because I knew her so well that I could see beneath the carefully constructed facade she had built around herself.

  “I’m worried because of the way she reacted.”

  Bernie shrugged. “But she didn’t react much at all. After you had cleared up, we all listened to some carols, and she was perfectly calm.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “The Grandma Grant I know should have been ranting and raving after somebody treated her that way and stormed out during Christmas Day lunch.”

  I glanced down. My feet were freezing. We’d had a light sprinkling of snow last night. I hadn’t considered it bad enough to put on my snow boots, but now I wished I had.

  Bernie was able to travel a foot above the ground, so the snow didn’t bother him in the slightest.

  I put a finger to my lips to indicate we were approaching the end of the trail and entering the residential section of Abbott Cove. I didn’t want anybody to overhear me talking to Bernie.

  Bernie whistled to himself as we walked through the new residential area of Abbott Cove and then entered Main Street.

  I was annoyed with myself for not mentioning Loretta to Bernie before we left the trail. I wouldn’t have a chance now because too many people would be around. I shot a sideways glance at Bernie. Oh, well, I was sure he could handle it, and Loretta was used to me bringing newbie ghosts, as she referred to them, to the diner.