Margaret’s mouth dropped open as incredulity washed over her pinched features. She really did look like a chicken’s behind … and she was clearly about to drop an egg. It was probably rotten.
“Who told you I’ve been seeing Edgar?” Margaret asked, sliding a dark look in my direction. “Was it her?”
“I’m not at liberty to divulge my source, ma’am,” Terry said. “I don’t care about your personal life. I care about locating Mr. Martin and making sure he’s okay. If he’s here, I only want to see him and verify he doesn’t need medical assistance.”
“Do you really expect me to fall for that?” Margaret asked.
“I don’t care what you fall for,” Terry said. “If Edgar is here, though, I want to see him.”
“Well, you can’t enter without a search warrant, and I’m not granting you entrance to my home,” Margaret spat. “As for the rest … well … I’m going to sue you for slander, Tillie. I’m going to bleed you dry.”
“Oh, knock it off, Margaret.” I was at my limit. “I’m tired and I want to go home. Is Edgar here or not? That’s all we want to know. The girls are obsessed with making sure no one died in the woods. How can you deny them peace of mind like that?”
“Yes, it’s our Christmas wish,” Clove intoned. “It’s all we want.”
“Speak for yourself,” Thistle said. “I want that castle, too.”
Bay licked her lips as she studied Margaret. She was serious as she took a step forward. “Please?”
Terry rested his hand on her shoulder. “Just tell them, Mrs. Little,” he prodded. “They’re not asking for the world. They’re asking for one bit of information so they can sleep at night.”
“My heart hurts thinking about poor Mr. Martin being lost in the woods,” Clove added, her brown eyes glassy.
I had to give the kid credit, she was a master manipulator. She was going to be something special when she got older.
“Fine,” Margaret said, blowing out a sigh. “He’s here. He’s been here for the last few days. It’s not what you think, though.”
“So you’re not cutting him up into little bits in your bathtub?” Thistle asked.
Margaret made a horrified face. “Who told you that?”
“It must’ve been the Christmas elf,” I said evasively, averting my eyes.
“No, I’m not chopping him up,” Margaret said. “The church has decided to provide sober buddies to Edgar to get him through the holidays. I’ve been volunteering my time.”
“Oh.” Crap. That might explain why people saw her with him on multiple occasions. She wasn’t dating him. She was just policing him. She was good at telling other people what to do, so this was right up her alley.
“Yes, ‘oh.’” Margaret was smug. “The holidays are a rough time, and he had a setback the other day. I saw him in the trees when I was leaving and took him home. I didn’t know it was going to be such a big deal. I thought the girls would forget about it, and Edgar was embarrassed.”
“He should’ve been more embarrassed about the unicorn thing,” Thistle said.
“I agree with that,” I said.
“So … he’s really okay?” Bay looked hopeful.
“He’s really okay,” Margaret said, her expression softening. “He’s here today and then is heading over to Viola’s house tomorrow. Are you satisfied?”
Terry glanced at me. “Are you satisfied?”
Heck no, I wasn’t satisfied. Margaret was actually doing something good for a change. The world was clearly coming to an end.
“We should probably be going,” I said, motioning for the girls to follow me instead of answering Terry’s question. “We have cookies to bake and elves to catch.”
“And mothers to laugh at,” Thistle added.
“That, too,” I said.
Terry ran his tongue over his teeth as he regarded me. “So you’ll be going straight home?”
“Absolutely. There won’t be one detour. I promise.”
“ALL SET, girls?”
It took me five minutes to get the girls back to the truck and another five minutes to get their helmets and seatbelts secure. By the time the truck warmed up everyone was more than ready to go.
“I’m ready,” Bay said. “Are you surprised Mrs. Little is being nice?”
I opted for honesty. “Yes.”
“Do you like her better now?” Clove asked.
“No.”
“Do you want to plow on the way home?” Thistle asked, hopeful.
“Absolutely.”
I lowered the plow so it was close to the road and hit the gas pedal as I pulled away from the side of the road. I saw Terry watching us as he walked up the driveway, and his eyes widened and he waved his hands as the snow bank at the corner of the driveway grew closer. He was pretty expressive for a guy who only wanted to say goodbye.
The truck jerked as I hit something hard, small pieces of wood flying in every direction. I crashed forward but the seatbelt kept me from slamming into the steering wheel.
“What was that?” Clove asked, turning her head.
“Mrs. Little’s mailbox,” Thistle replied. “It went boom.”
“That came out of nowhere,” I muttered. This time it truly was an accident. “She must’ve moved it because she knew I would hit it and she wanted something to complain about.”
“Yeah, that must be it,” Thistle said dryly. “Come on. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to fill Lila’s driveway with yellow snow before Officer Terry catches up with us.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
Ten
Everyone was exhausted when we got back to the house. Terry caught up with us just as we were leaving Lila’s street. He gave me a dirty look, but all of the girls waved and blew kisses so he merely shook his head and let us leave without flashing his lights or tossing about empty threats.
Christmas miracles take many forms, after all.
I found my nieces angrily slamming things around in the kitchen. The house usually boasted a variety of scrumptious scents this time of day, but all of them were absent thanks to my curse. Hmm. I might not have thought this one out completely.
“Where have you been all day?” Winnie asked, furious.
“I took the girls for breakfast and then on an elf hunt,” I said, pouring myself a mug of coffee. “We found Edgar, by the way. He’s not dead. He’s drying out at Margaret’s house.”
“What?”
“I know. I was disappointed, too,” I said. “I thought she chopped him up or something. I’m going to have to rethink all of my life decisions now that she’s done a good thing and helped her fellow man.”
“I just … .” Winnie pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Well, at least you didn’t get arrested.”
“Nope. Terry didn’t want the girls to start crying, so he let us go.”
Marnie’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
“He didn’t want my eyes to leak,” Clove offered, hopping up on the stool next to me and folding her hands as she surveyed the kitchen. “We’re hungry. What’s for dinner?”
“You’re going to get sandwiches at this rate,” Winnie replied. “We still can’t cook.”
“And we have a beautiful prime rib roast for Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow,” Twila added. “We need to put it in early and slow roast it. Do you have any idea how expensive that hunk of meat was? That’s on top of the turkey we got for Christmas Day.”
My mouth watered at the mention of prime rib. It’s one of my favorites. That didn’t mean I was ready to cede my superiority over my nieces … although I was definitely wobbling. “Do you have anything you want to say to me?”
Winnie narrowed her eyes. She’s bossy so she likes being in control. She knows when she’s licked, though. “If we agree to make cookies for you, will you lift the spell?”
“Yes.”
“That easy?” Winnie was understandably dubious. “Don’t you want to add certain conditions to the agreement?”
“Like you always do,” Twila muttered.
“Nope,” I answered. “I’m in a particularly giving mood. It is Christmas, after all.”
Winnie made a face as she exhaled heavily. “Fine. We’ll make your cookies.”
I sensed a trap. “You’ll make me really good cookies,” I clarified. “I don’t want any crap. For instance, I don’t want cookies with a half a cup of salt instead of sugar just because you’re feeling vengeful. I’m not stupid.”
Bay shot me an angry look but wisely kept her mouth shut.
“We’ll make you good cookies,” Winnie gritted out. “Technically we’ll be making our own cookies for Christmas, so you can have some of them. We would never make bad cookies for ourselves.”
She had a point. “I want chocolate and macadamia nuts.”
“Fine.”
“If you want to add a little magic to sway the judges, I wouldn’t be opposed to that either,” I added.
“We won’t be doing that,” Winnie said. “It’s not really winning if you have magical help.”
“I disagree, but as long as I win, I don’t care,” I said, climbing off the stool and motioning to the girls. “Come on, troublemakers,” I said. “Let’s look for the Christmas elf in the living room. I think there’s supposed to be a good movie on this afternoon and your mothers are clearly going to be busy baking.”
“You are … incorrigible,” Twila muttered.
“Yes, well, it keeps me young,” I said, smirking. “Oh, and by the way, we’re going to have a talk about all of these pearls of wisdom you keep dropping on the girls. I’m going to wait until the day after Christmas, though. I don’t want anyone mistaking me for the Grinch.”
Twila balked. “What pearls of wisdom?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I replied. “Perhaps little things like me complaining because I like to complain and it’s just the way I communicate need to be discussed.”
Twila scorched Thistle with a murderous look. “Really? I’m sure I never said anything of the sort.”
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Thistle said, her grin impish. “You’re supposed to be setting a good example for me.”
“Run now,” Twila ordered, slapping her spatula against the counter. “I can only take so much.”
“Now you know how I feel,” I said, pushing open the swinging door between the kitchen and living room. “Make sure you get going on dinner soon. We’ve had a long day and we’re starving.”
“I’m so hungry my heart hurts,” Clove said. “I’ll probably die from the pain.”
“You took it a step too far, Clove,” I said, cringing when I saw the look on Marnie’s face. “You need to learn that sometimes less is more. Trust me. That’s one of the rules I live by.”
“I’ll think about it.”
CHRISTMAS morning dawned brightly and the girls woke me with excited squeals as they pounded down the stairs. I took my time getting into my robe, and by the time I hit the main floor Terry was already there with a mug of coffee in his hand and a smile on his face as he watched the girls divvy up presents.
“What are you doing here?” I asked accepting a mug of coffee from Marnie as she walked past. “I thought you were coming for dinner.”
“I am,” Terry replied. “Santa had a special gift for the girls that he couldn’t fit on his sleigh, though, and I had to bring it with me.”
I pursed my lips. He was a good man. He drove me crazy and I often wanted to curse him for questioning my integrity, but he loved the girls with his whole heart and gave everything he had freely to them.
“Well, that’s nice,” I said, turning my attention to the center of the living room. The girls weren’t allowed to open gifts at the same time. They had to wait their turn, which drove them crazy and made Christmas more fun for the adults, who enjoyed torturing them. What? Is that just me? Oh, well. It’s still fun. “Have you talked to Edgar?”
“I have,” Terry confirmed, bobbing his head. “He’s embarrassed by what happened. He says he fell off the wagon the day the girls found him. He’s actually thankful they did, though, because he thinks he might’ve slept right through to his death if they didn’t wake him.
“When they took off to get us, he managed to get to his feet,” he continued. “He was confused because he couldn’t remember how he got there – or even where he was – and he followed the girls’ footprints out of the trees.”
“Why didn’t he say something to us when he saw us coming?”
“He said he thought that I might arrest him for public drunkenness,” Terry explained. “I have threatened him a time or two, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. I would like to think I’d be giving because of the time of year, but it’s far more likely I would’ve hauled him in rather than let him ruin the tree-lighting ceremony.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that. “You have a wonderful Christmas spirit, Terry,” I said. “Don’t ever doubt that. You saw what we did at Lila’s house the other day and you didn’t even write a ticket.”
“I thought about it.”
“But you didn’t do it.”
“Yes, well, I didn’t want Clove’s eyes to leak,” Terry teased, poking Clove’s side as she skirted around him. Sugar barked and panted as sniffed saw the mountain of gifts. He would enjoy tearing through the leftover wrapping paper.
“It’s nice you’re here to spend the day with us,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “It wouldn’t feel like a family day without you.”
I could’ve been mistaken, but Terry’s eyes appeared to mist as he nodded. “Thank you.” He made room on his lap when Bay – still in her nightgown and slippers – hopped on his knee. Her hair was a mess and she looked barely awake but her eyes sparkled. “Hey, little missy. I see Santa brought you a ton of gifts. You must’ve been a good girl.”
Bay shrugged. “Sometimes I think I’m good. Other times I think I’m not.”
“You’re good,” Terry said. “You’re always good.”
“And twenty,” Thistle said from her place on the floor. “Ha! I told you I would get the same amount of presents. I just counted. So much for the naughty list.”
Terry pursed his lips as he shook his head. He looked annoyed. “She, on the other hand, straddles a very fine line.”
Bay giggled. “No, she doesn’t,” she said. “She has a big mouth but a nice heart. She’s like Aunt Tillie.”
“I heard that,” Thistle barked. “That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Now it was my turn to make a face. “Not three days ago you told me you wanted to be just like me,” I reminded her. “Why is it okay for you to say it but not Bay?”
“Because Bay means it in a bad way,” Thistle answered. “I said I wanted to be feared like you. I didn’t say I wanted to be like you.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“That’s because you’re old.”
“Hey!” Terry barked loud enough that Bay jolted on his lap. He tightened his arms around her in a reassuring manner as he stared down Thistle. “You need to apologize to your great-aunt. That was uncalled for.”
Thistle’s face drained of color as she swallowed hard. “I’m … sorry.”
The apology wasn’t exactly heartfelt, but the fact that she said it at all was surprising.
“You need to think about what you say before you open your mouth, Thistle,” Terry said. “I know you think you’re funny, and I’m pretty sure that’s where a lot of your attitude stems from. You see your Aunt Tillie getting away with stuff and you think it’s because people find her funny.
“That’s partly true,” he continued. “It’s also true that she does good things for people. Did you know she took cookies to the children’s hospital in Traverse City last week? Do you want to know how I know that? I saw her when I was there taking gifts from the department.”
Thistle’s mouth dropped open as her eyes widened. “You did that?”
I shifted on my chair, uncomfortable.
“I might’ve stopped by.”
“She did it because she’s a good person who just happens to like making mischief,” Terry said. “That’s what you need to realize. You can’t do only the mischief half of that equation. You have to do the good part, too.”
Instead of laughing, Thistle looked intrigued. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because it was nobody’s business,” I said. “I go every year.”
“You lead by example,” Bay said, rubbing her cheek as she glanced at her mother. Her expression was far too thoughtful for a happy Christmas morning.
“I do lead by example,” I agreed, reaching inside my robe and removing the blue ribbon from the baking contest. I hadn’t let it out of my sight since winning it the previous day. Margaret was stupefied … and angry … and that made me happy. That probably wasn’t leading by example, but I was beyond caring. “For example, do you know what this ribbon means?”
Thistle nodded. “It means you beat Mrs. Little and she cried,” she said. “We were all there. We saw it.”
“That’s right,” I said. “And why is that important?”
“Because there are exceptions to every rule,” Bay answered. “You can’t call people fat and ugly, but you can call someone a horse face and drop yellow snow in their yard if they’re your mortal enemy.”
“Exactly,” I said, beaming.
Winnie scowled as she pointed toward the largest gift in the center of the room. It was the one Terry brought for them. I had a feeling I knew exactly what was under the wrapping paper. “Girls, I think Aunt Tillie is still waking up, so you might not want to listen to her this early in the morning,” she said. “Instead of opening all of your individual gifts, why not open the big one Terry brought for you to share?”
“I didn’t buy that,” Terry said. “Santa brought it and ran out of room.”
Bay shifted her eyes to him. “You’re Santa sometimes. You’re Santa this time. We already know that.”
Terry opened his mouth to argue and then snapped it shut. “Open your gift. I think you’re going to like it.”
Bay did as he asked, pressing a kiss to his cheek before joining her cousins. They each grabbed a side of the wrapping paper and counted to three as they ripped it off. Their eyes widened and I could hear a multitude of gasps and squeals when they unveiled the fairy castle from the catalog.
Merry Witchmas: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Shorts Book 10) Page 9
