A Witchmas Carol

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Bay got Landon something schmaltzy for Christmas, but she won’t tell us what it is,” Thistle supplied. “You don’t know, do you?”

  Annie shook her head, solemn. “I don’t know. What does schmaltzy mean? Is that like a code word for cool?”

  “It’s more a code word for emotional,” Thistle replied, not missing a beat. She was often brutally honest with Annie, who looked upon Thistle with something akin to hero worship. “Bay is going to be emotional with Landon for Christmas.”

  “Aunt Tillie says that they’re going to be naked for Christmas and it’s gross,” Annie said.

  I narrowed my eyes. “When did Aunt Tillie tell you that?”

  “Yesterday.” Annie wasn’t bothered by my tone. “She says you guys are up to something for Christmas. She warned Winnie, Twila and Marnie that you’re going to try to pull a fast one. That’s what she said; I didn’t say that.”

  I exchanged a quick look with Thistle. While I didn’t consider our Christmas plans to be anything other than ordinary, I knew very well they wouldn’t leave the Winchester family matriarch happy. “Well … .”

  I wasn’t keen to explain things further to Annie, so I was relieved when I heard the front door of the inn open, the accompanying sound of booted feet pounding away snow assailing my ears. “That must be Landon.”

  I beamed as I moved past Annie, silently thankful I didn’t have to delve too deep into my actual Christmas plans, and grinned when I found my boyfriend standing in the decked-out lobby. “I was getting worried.”

  Landon’s smile was soft as he glanced in my direction. “Do you really think I’d miss our first Christmas living together?”

  “No. Not for a second. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t worried about you being on the road.”

  “The roads aren’t terrible yet.” Landon held out his hand for me to join him. “They’re going to get that way in a few hours, though. By then we’ll be locked in the guesthouse with absolutely nobody bothering us for forty-eight hours straight.”

  That sounded positively heavenly. “I ran to the store so we can officially be hermits without worrying about starving.”

  “Good deal.” Landon pressed a kiss to my mouth. “I think it’s going to be a pretty good Christmas. You. Me. Wine. What more could we want?”

  As if on cue, Aunt Tillie appeared in the door. The expression on her face told me her radar was up and she was about to go on a rampage.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, shifting nervously.

  Aunt Tillie didn’t crack a smile, instead extending a finger and letting loose with a hissing sound. “You’re all on my list.”

  And here we go.

  I hate when women say they don’t want anything for Christmas … or Valentine’s Day … or birthdays. They always say that, but you know it’s not true. Bay is a beautiful woman, but if I show up Christmas morning without a gift she’ll turn into the Hulk and smash me.

  – Landon on Christmas gifts

  Two

  “Merry Christmas, Aunt Tillie.”

  Landon took me by surprise when he greeted my curmudgeonly great-aunt with a bright smile.

  Aunt Tillie anticipated a set-up, her lip curling. She’s often evil, so she can sense when others are about to do something she won’t like – it’s a gift we wish she’d return for store credit – and the look she scorched Landon with was right out of a horror movie.

  “It’s not Christmas yet,” Aunt Tillie pointed out. “It’s Christmas Eve. Tomorrow is Christmas.”

  “I think the sentiment is for the entire holiday season, not just one day.” Landon shrugged out of his coat and placed it on the ornate coatrack in the corner. “You don’t seem as if you’re in the Christmas spirit. Is something wrong?”

  “Oh, I know what you’re doing.” Aunt Tillie extended a gnarled finger. “Don’t think for a second that I don’t know what you’re doing.”

  Since being introduced to the Winchester witches fourteen months ago, Landon had become accustomed to our peculiar ways. Sometimes he found Aunt Tillie’s antics amusing, other times frustrating. He appeared to be in such a good mood today that nothing she said could bother him.

  “I’m fine with that.” Landon slipped his arm around my waist and slid me a sidelong look. “The apartment is completely empty. I have two more boxes of stuff in the Explorer, but I turned over the keys and you’re officially stuck with me.”

  “It’s a tough job, but I think I’ll survive.”

  “I think so, too.” Landon tugged me toward the library, paying very little attention to Aunt Tillie. That would only serve to infuriate her more, something Landon knew well, but he didn’t seem bothered by the potential mayhem flitting across her face.

  He released me when he caught sight of Annie in the library, scooping her off her feet and tickling her until she gasped from raucous giggles. “Look what I found, Bay.” He beamed at the girl as her face grew red. “I think I found one of Santa’s elves.”

  “I’m not an elf,” Annie sputtered, struggling against Landon’s ministrations as he sat on the couch. “Elves aren’t real.”

  “Who told you that?” Thistle asked, arching an eyebrow. “I happen to know for a fact that elves are real.”

  Annie was at that age when questioning the existence of Santa Claus was normal. This year, despite comments to the contrary, she was hedging her bets because she didn’t want to miss out on gifts. Next year she would probably be over the whole Santa thing, but part of the magic remained this year.

  “Have you really seen elves?”

  It took me a moment to realize Annie was talking to me. I tilted my head to the side as I reclaimed the blanket and got comfortable on the couch. “I haven’t seen them, but I’ve heard them.”

  “I’ve seen them,” Thistle said. “Santa makes two ride in his sleigh with him so he can streamline his gift-giving process. True story.”

  Annie looked dubious. “Really?”

  Thistle nodded. “Really. The elves are Santa’s special helpers. They do most of the work while he gets all the glory.”

  Landon made a face. “Don’t tell her that.”

  Annie seemed intrigued by Thistle’s explanation. “Kind of like you guys and Aunt Tillie when you solve a murder, huh?”

  Hmm. That was an interesting observation. “Exactly like that.”

  “Wait a second … .” Landon shifted so Annie was upright and he could look at me. “Don’t I usually help when it comes to solving murders?”

  “Yes,” Thistle answered without hesitation. “I don’t know how we’d get through each case without you pointing at Bay and saying, ‘You’re in really big trouble.’”

  Annie giggled hysterically at Thistle’s impersonation of Landon. “She sounded just like you.”

  Landon rolled his eyes. “She did not. That’s hardly the point, though. Everyone helps solve murders in this house.”

  “Except I do all the heavy lifting,” Aunt Tillie volunteered as she strolled into the room. Her gaze bounced between faces, something worrisome flitting across her features. “I’m Santa and they’re elves. You got that exactly right, Annie.”

  If Annie worshipped Thistle, she downright adored Aunt Tillie. She thought there was nothing the elderly witch could do wrong. “What time do you think Santa will come tonight?”

  “When you’re asleep,” Landon replied, poking her side. “He knows when you’re sleeping, so he’ll wait until he’s sure you’re out.”

  “That’s kind of unfair,” Annie said, jutting out her lower lip. “I’d feel better about him being real if I could see him.”

  “You have to take it on faith,” Landon said. “You’ve been a good girl this year. I’m sure you’ll get your fair share of gifts.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get more than your fair share,” Aunt Tillie corrected. “I talked to Santa, and he said you’re getting extra this year.”

  Landon shifted his gaze to Aunt Tillie. “I’m not sure you should tell her that.”


  “And I’m not sure I care what you think,” Aunt Tillie challenged. “Annie has been good. She’ll be rewarded because of that.”

  Annie’s eyes sparkled under the compliment. “I sure hope so. You guys are coming for breakfast, right? You’ll be here for Christmas, won’t you?”

  The question caught me off guard. I expected it to become an issue after dinner, when my mother asked what time we would be arriving for breakfast. I hadn’t yet told her that we planned to be hermits in the guesthouse and spend our first real Christmas together, away from them, just the two of us.

  Clove and Thistle planned the same with their respective love interests. We’d talked about it at length, agreed to approach our mothers as a unit, and then proceeded to put it off for as long as humanly possible. We were officially out of time, and the fallout was bound to be uncomfortable for everyone.

  “We’ll be here the day after Christmas,” Landon replied, his smile firmly in place. “We’re going to spend Christmas Day alone at the guesthouse.”

  Annie didn’t look happy with the announcement. “But … why?”

  “Because it’s our first real Christmas together,” Landon explained. “It’s a big deal for us, especially since we just moved in together. We want to spend some quiet time alone with one another.”

  “But … why?”

  “Because … .” Landon broke off and spared me a glance. “Do you want to help me here?”

  “I think you’re doing fine.” I slid a worried look in Aunt Tillie’s direction and found her glowering. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s a very big deal,” Aunt Tillie argued. “Why do you think you’re all on my list?”

  Hmm. That was interesting. “Did you already know?”

  “I heard your mothers talking,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Apparently Terry told them what you had planned. They’re all very upset. In fact, they’re in the kitchen right now … crying.”

  “Terry, huh?” I glared at Landon. “Did you tell Chief Terry what we were planning?”

  “I didn’t realize it was a big deal,” Landon argued. “I’m still not sure why it’s a big deal. Would you like to share with the class what I’m missing?”

  “Christmas is a day for family,” Aunt Tillie barked. “We’re supposed to spend it together as a family. We’re not supposed to break apart into small little factions and do … well, whatever dirty things the six of you have planned.”

  “I have nothing dirty planned,” Landon said. “It’s not about that. We simply want to spend a whole day together, just the two of us, in front of a fire. I’m not sure why you’re melting down here.”

  Aunt Tillie snorted. “I’m hardly melting down.”

  “It doesn’t look that way to me.”

  I risked a glance in Thistle’s direction and found her watching the scene with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. Oddly enough, while informing our mothers of our plans was worrisome, it was telling Aunt Tillie that filled us with dread. The only time she believed in total family unity was Christmas. It was her favorite time of year. We expected a negative reaction, but this one looked as if it would spiral downward in terrific fashion before we could gain control of the conversation.

  “Aunt Tillie, we’re spending tonight together. That’s the same as spending Christmas Day together.” I swallowed hard. “It’ll be okay.”

  “Oh, it’s not going to be okay.” Aunt Tillie’s expression was dark. “It’s going to be pretty far from okay.” She straightened her shoulders and landed a weighted look on each of us. “You’ll be sorry you decided to spend Christmas away from me. I can promise you that.”

  “We’re spending tonight with you,” Landon argued. “That’s spending Christmas with you.”

  “Whatever.” Aunt Tillie usually spends more time threatening us with final words before storming out of a room. This time she merely swept out without a backward glance. It was beyond worrisome.

  “You hurt her feelings,” Annie snapped, fighting her way clear of Landon and glaring as she stomped across the room. Apparently she was picking up Aunt Tillie’s dramatic slack this evening. “You should be nicer to her.”

  “We’re not trying to be mean to her, Annie,” Thistle said. “We just want a quiet Christmas. I’m pretty sure that’s allowed.”

  “I’m pretty sure you were mean to Aunt Tillie, and I don’t like you now.” Annie stalked out of the room, refusing to look in our direction as she exited.

  “Well, that was … delightful,” Clove muttered.

  “She’ll be fine,” Thistle said. “It’s honestly not a big deal. She won’t even remember why she was angry tomorrow morning.”

  “I’m sure.” I said the words, but I wasn’t sure I believed them. “We should head to dinner. We’ll have to explain things to our mothers before Aunt Tillie bends their ears.”

  “Oh, well, I’m totally looking forward to that.” Thistle made a face. “They’ll be fine.”

  I wanted to believe her, but I wasn’t so sure. Still, Landon was looking forward to a quiet day. I had no intention of going back on my word and taking it from him.

  “They’ll definitely be fine.”

  I could only hope I was right.

  “WELL, THAT WAS THE MOST uncomfortable dinner ever.”

  Landon carried a large moving box into the guesthouse living room and rested it on the floor before yanking off his boots and coat. He gave the box a wide berth as he threw himself on the couch and let loose a dramatic sigh.

  “I’m glad there weren’t a bunch of guests at the inn,” I admitted, putting away my own coat and boots before sinking to the floor next to the box. It was automatic for me. We’d spent weeks finding a place for all of Landon’s belongings. I wanted him to feel as if this was his home, which meant getting rid of every box. “If we had guests, I think they would’ve been asking for refunds.”

  “Did Aunt Tillie say one word during dinner?”

  “She said a few words,” I replied. “Almost all of them were curse words, though, and she mumbled them under her breath so Annie wouldn’t hear.”

  “Yes, well, Annie was a problem all her own. I’ve never seen her so despondent.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what to make of that.”

  I was lost in my own little world, my mind busy with images of dinner playing through it. Mom kept a stiff upper lip when I informed her of our plans, wishing us well before focusing on dinner. She put on a brave front, but I could tell she was bothered.

  “What is all this stuff?” I asked, turning my attention to the box.

  Landon grinned. “That is my remembrance box.”

  I arched an eyebrow, amused despite myself. “Your remembrance box?”

  “Yup.”

  “I thought that was a girl thing.”

  “Mock all you want, but that is a box of memories from my childhood, my high school years … maybe a little bit of college stuff made it in. All my work awards are in there. I have a bunch of stuff that reminds me of you in there.”

  Ah, now we were getting somewhere. “You have stuff that reminds you of me?” I was excited at the prospect. “What stuff?”

  “Go ahead and look.” Landon remained on the couch, his eyes contemplative as I tore through the box.

  The first memento I stumbled across was a photograph of Landon and his brothers. They were young, but I recognized Landon and his vivid blue eyes right away. “When was this?”

  Landon looked over my shoulder. “Christmas. I think I was eight. We got a train set, which we didn’t ask for. My father always wanted a train set, so he bought one for us. We weren’t excited at first, but we grew to love the stupid thing because our father loved it so much.”

  “You were cute.” I ran my index finger over the photograph. “It’s weird, but I feel as if I’d recognize you no matter the time now.”

  “I feel like I’d recognize you, too.”

  “Are you upset because we’re not with your family for Christmas?”

  Land
on immediately started shaking his head. “No. I’m exactly where I want to be. We’re going to do what I want, which is nothing but hang out together and enjoy a full day in our pajamas. I want a fire, food and you.”

  “That sounds nice.” I returned my attention to the box, my stomach flipping when I caught a glance of something I recognized. “What’s this?”

  Landon moved to the floor so he’d have an easier time watching me go through his memories. He grinned when I held up a box with a handful of dried flowers in it.

  “What do you think it is?”

  “I … .” I broke off, chewing my bottom lip. I had an inkling. I recognized the flowers. If I was right, that would mean Landon was even more sentimental than I realized. “They look like the flowers I brought you in the hospital after you got shot protecting us.”

  “They are.”

  “Really?” My heart did a happy dance, which made me feel ridiculous. It was Christmas, though. If you can’t be schmaltzy on Christmas, when can you?

  “I kept some of them, although even now I have no idea why.” Landon rubbed his hand over my back. “I didn’t want to throw them out. I can’t explain why or what possessed me to put them in the box. I even bought a special box from one of those craft stores just to store the flowers.”

  I smirked. “That’s kind of cute.”

  “Other people would call it being whipped.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  Landon poked my side. “It’s not a bad thing.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me away from the box, settling me so I was pressed snugly against him and resting his head on my shoulder. “If you want to go to the inn tomorrow, we can.”

  “It’s supposed to practically be a blizzard tonight.”

  “Yes, and Aunt Tillie has a plow,” Landon reminded me. “She could pick us up.”

  “You hate riding with her when she’s using her plow.”

  Landon’s lips curved. “When I came back after … well, you know what after. When I came back after deciding that I didn’t care you were a witch and I wanted you no matter what, one of the first things I saw was Aunt Tillie plowing. I remember thinking ‘and you want to voluntarily spend time with these crazy people.’ I was convinced I was losing it.”