“When will we get there?”
“Soon.”
“Oh, geez.” Landon swept me to him, holding me tight so he could hug the frustration out of his system. “You’re lucky I love you. Any other rational man would’ve run away after the fairy tale world.”
“This one isn’t as bad,” I pointed out.
“No, but it’s not good either.” Landon planted a hard kiss on my forehead. “We get it. They’re cooking dinner and fighting over who’s the best cook. That always happens. Where to next?”
“Not far.” Uncle Calvin’s smile was enigmatic. “In fact, we don’t even have to leave this place.”
Instinctively I knew exactly where he was taking us. “Aunt Tillie.”
“Right again, Bay.”
Thistle just gave me her Christmas list. There are more than one-hundred items on it, and she threw in “world peace” at the end. She said if Santa needs to cut he should start at the bottom.
– Twila studying her daughter’s two-page Christmas list
Eleven
Uncle Calvin spent a few more minutes watching Mom bicker with her sisters – cackling like a madman whenever an insult flew through the room – before he reluctantly blew them a kiss and pointed us toward the back hallway.
The kiss was sweet, and even though I was agitated the simple gesture hit me like a fist to the stomach.
“You were their Chief Terry.”
Uncle Calvin flicked his kind eyes to me. “Your grandfather was gone before they had a chance to remember him. They needed a father figure. The Winchester line is full of women. That doesn’t mean men aren’t important.”
“Has it always been females born to the line?” Landon asked, stepping to the side so I could walk into the hallway ahead of him. “Have they ever had sons?”
“I believe some of the earlier generations had sons. In fact, I think the first all-female generation belonged to Ginger and Tillie.”
“And Aunt Willa,” I added, making a face. Aunt Willa was technically only a half-sister – and on my great-grandfather’s side, so it was hardly important – but she’d felt marginalized her entire life and I didn’t want to leave her out of the conversation.
“That’s true, but Willa was something else entirely.”
“We know the truth. Aunt Tillie let it slip when Aunt Willa and Rosemary visited. They were trying to put a claim in on the property and Aunt Tillie let them have it.”
Uncle Calvin was philosophical about the news. “Well, she lasted longer than I thought she would.”
“Probably because we only saw them on very rare occasions while growing up. Once, we went to summer camp and Rosemary came. Other than that I can only remember one or two visits.”
“You went to summer camp?” Uncle Calvin was intrigued. “How did that go?”
“We pretty much stayed to ourselves. We’ve never played well with others.”
“I went to summer camp a couple of times,” Landon noted. “I always liked it. One year we were right next to a girls’ camp, and I was totally popular with all the chicks.” He realized too late what he’d said and adjusted his tone. “Of course, I’m a better man now and only want to be popular with one chick.”
“Very smooth,” I muttered, earning a small pinch to my wrist as we wandered through the hallway that led to the family living quarters. “Where did you go to camp?”
“I don’t really remember. I think once was in this area, though. I would have to ask my mother.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t know,” Landon countered. “I was thinking maybe we could take a mini-vacation and go camping this summer.”
“Where?”
Landon shrugged. “Wherever. I’m not picky. I thought it would be fun to camp out under the stars with you.”
“Or we could carry a sleeping bag to the bluff and get drunk in close proximity to a toilet.”
“You’re zero fun sometimes,” Landon complained. “I can’t sleep on the bluff. I’ve seen too many naked women there, and not one of them was you.”
Uncle Calvin arched a quizzical eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“Mom, Marnie, Twila and Aunt Tillie still dance naked under almost every full moon when the weather cooperates,” I supplied. “Landon has seen his fair share of … celebrations.”
“Ah.” Uncle Calvin chuckled under his breath. “I wondered if that was still going on. From Landon’s perspective it must be difficult. From mine it was downright unbearable. I locked myself in the house those nights.
“It’s bad enough seeing your future mother-in-law or your girlfriend’s aunts,” he continued. “Seeing your nieces is criminal.”
“I hear that.” Landon placed his hand to the small of my back as we emerged in the family living quarters. “What are we doing here?”
“We have one more stop.” Uncle Calvin didn’t bother hiding his enthusiasm as he moved to the living room, the smile on his face so wide it almost split it in half. He spared little time to scan the room, apparently not caring about the workmanship as much as the woman sitting on the couch watching television. She didn’t look in our direction, but Aunt Tillie was animated all the same.
“What is Latin America?” she barked at the television.
“What is Russia?” someone on the television answered.
“Correct.”
“Oh, bull,” Aunt Tillie muttered, glaring at Alex Trebek. “You’re purposely allowing them to answer the questions wrong. That’s not fair.”
“Oh, good,” I muttered, exhaling heavily. “We’ve watched Mom cook and now we get to hang out with Aunt Tillie while she watches television. What an exciting night.”
“I hate to say it, but I’d rather go back to the embarrassing Christmas memory with Shelly Waterman,” Landon admitted. “At least that had some action.”
“That can be arranged,” Aunt Tillie said, shifting her eyes to us. There was a hint of something – devilish delight, perhaps – lurking in the depths of her eyes. “If you want to go back, I can send you there right now.”
Landon, realizing the rules had changed, held up his hands in surrender. “I’m good.”
“That’s what I thought.” Aunt Tillie pursed her lips as she turned her attention to Uncle Calvin. “I wondered if you would be getting here soon. I was starting to worry.”
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Uncle Calvin said, leaving Landon and me behind to struggle over the shifting rules of our predicament as he practically skipped to the couch and took his place next to Aunt Tillie. He died young, so he looked like her son rather than husband, but that didn’t stop him from excitedly grabbing her hand. “I missed you, my little cookie crumb.”
I openly gaped at the endearment. “Cookie crumb?”
“No one is talking to you,” Aunt Tillie fired back. “This is a private conversation.”
“Then why are we here?” Landon challenged. “Send us back to bed and we’ll be out of your hair.”
“Unfortunately I don’t have much time, so you’ll have to stay,” Aunt Tillie said. “Now … sit down and shut up. I’m talking to your uncle.”
“Whatever.” Landon didn’t bother to hide his disdain as he planted himself in the chair at the edge of the room and tumbled me into his lap.
I took advantage of the lull to stare at my slippers, the odd witch faces seemingly staring back. “I’m glad you don’t call me names associated with food,” I said. “Cookie crumb is a weird nickname.”
“I’ve considered calling you my little bacon slice,” Landon teased, rubbing his nose against my cheek. “There would be no higher honor in my world.”
“I’m fine with ‘sweetie.’”
“You don’t want another nickname?”
“You could call me ‘your highness’ if you’re feeling bored.”
“I think I’ll stick with ‘sweetie,’ too,” Landon said dryly.
“Aren’t they adorable?” Uncle Calvin had Aunt Tillie tucked in at his side as he watched us, his fac
e lit with joy. “I’m sorry I missed all of this.”
“You missed other stuff, too,” Aunt Tillie said. “Like the first time Clove got her period and became convinced every man in the free world would now try to impregnate her.”
Landon furrowed his brow. “What?”
“It’s true.” I bobbed my head. “We’d been watching General Hospital and someone made a joke about how the lead character was a sperm machine and knocked up women just by looking at them. Clove got it in her head that everyone would know she was now a woman. It was a whole big thing.”
“I’m glad I missed it.”
“Me, too,” Uncle Calvin echoed. “I forgot how dramatic teenage girls can be when they grow up in a clump like that.”
I decided to be offended on behalf of my gender. “Hey, that’s not funny. We don’t mean to be dramatic.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re not.” Aunt Tillie leaned back so she fit perfectly against Uncle Calvin, the simple movement causing my heart to ache. Yes, she was torturing us on purpose. Yes, she was getting off on messing with our heads. That didn’t mean she wasn’t tortured herself at times, especially around Christmas when she was without the love of her life.
“Was this whole thing so you could see Uncle Calvin?” I asked, opting to jump on the issue at hand.
“No, and I didn’t even think of being able to see him until … well … I had technical difficulties.”
“With Clove?”
“She’s not the only dramatic one,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Thistle has been a pain in the keister, too.”
“That’s probably because you locked her inside Black X-Mas.”
“I never steal from anyone else,” Aunt Tillie clarified. “She is not locked inside Black X-Mas. She’s locked inside Blood Red Holidays, and she’s enjoying every minute of her journey.”
I had my doubts. “Why did we get different journeys?”
“Because you had different lessons to learn.”
That wasn’t really an answer. “Where is Clove?”
“She’s having fun on her own adventure.”
Knowing Clove the way I did, I knew that wasn’t true. “Is she freaking out because she’s alone?”
“Oh, don’t be a kvetch.” Aunt Tillie wrinkled her nose. “She’s fine.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Well, it’s the most important thing,” Aunt Tillie argued. “She’s fine. You’re fine. Everybody is fine.”
“You know that Thistle is going to go after you for this, right?” I asked, changing tactics. “She won’t appreciate being thrown into a horror movie on Christmas Eve.”
“Yes, well, I didn’t appreciate being abandoned on Christmas Eve,” Aunt Tillie pointed out. “I guess we all have our crosses to bear.”
“Oh, geez.”
Landon put his hand on my hip to quiet me before I launched an all-out verbal war with my great-aunt. “We know we upset you,” he said. “That wasn’t what we wanted. We thought we wanted to spend Christmas alone because – well, because we were idiots. We realize now that we were wrong.”
He was so calm and collected when delivering the statement I almost believed him. Aunt Tillie? Not so much. She blew a wet raspberry and caused Landon’s body to tense under mine.
“You’re full of it.”
Landon gripped my hip tightly as he tried to maintain his temper. “I am not. I am legitimately sorry if we hurt your feelings. That wasn’t my intention, and I know it wasn’t Bay’s either.”
“Oh, don’t paint me with your special snowflake brush,” Aunt Tillie argued. “I wasn’t destroyed by your decision. I simply thought it merited more … examination.”
She was talking out of both sides of her mouth, something that agitated me on a normal day. This was pretty far from a normal day. “What do you want?” I asked, working overtime to remain calm even though I wanted to lunge across the room, wrestle her to the floor and poke her until she agreed to send us back to reality. “What are you trying to do with this whole … thing?”
“I’m honestly not sure,” Aunt Tillie admitted. “When I first started, I wanted you to realize you made a mistake. I figured you’d be the easiest because you were starting to waffle before dinner even started. The only reason you didn’t take it back – which would have saved you, by the way – was because Landon wanted a day alone.”
“That is not what I said,” Landon snapped. “Granted, I suggested a quiet day alone. I thought it’s what Bay wanted. If I realized she wasn’t happy with the situation, I would’ve taken it back right away.
“It’s Christmas, for crying out loud,” he continued. “The thing I want most on Christmas is for Bay to be happy.”
“And that’s what she wanted for you,” Aunt Tillie said. “That’s why she didn’t back down. Trust me, compared to the other two, you have it easy.”
“That really worries me,” I muttered.
“They’re fine, you big whinebox,” Aunt Tillie barked. “There’s no reason to work yourself into a twist. Besides, at the rate they’re going they’ll be finished before you two.”
“Why can’t we be done now?” I tried to keep the hint of whine from my voice, but failed miserably.
“Because you haven’t learned everything I want you to learn yet.”
“I told you there was a method to her madness,” Uncle Calvin interjected.
“Who are you calling mad?” Aunt Tillie challenged.
“Hey!” I snapped my fingers to pull her attention back to me. “You guys can catch up on your game of ‘No, I Love You More’ when we’re done talking about our problems. We don’t want to be trapped on this ride any longer.
“In fact … um … we’re willing to make a public apology,” I continued, briefly wondering if I would regret making the offer. “If you let us out now, we will stand up in front of everyone during breakfast tomorrow – and we will definitely be there for breakfast – and tell them that we were wrong and you were right.”
“We’ll also tell them that you’re unbelievably wise and we don’t know why we ever thought about spending the holiday away from you,” Landon supplied.
“We’ll also donate as much time as necessary to the charity dinner thing you guys have planned at the senior center,” I added. “By the way, why didn’t you tell us about that? We would’ve volunteered despite our other plans. Did you think otherwise?”
“No, and Winnie pointed out that you would have done it,” Aunt Tillie replied. “The thing is, after the big deal you morons made about your plans during dinner, they felt as if they would have been guilting you into volunteering. They wanted you to do be excited for it, to do it out of the goodness of your own hearts.”
“How were we supposed to do it if we didn’t know about it?” Landon asked.
“That is a conundrum, isn’t it?” Aunt Tillie tapped her chin. “It doesn’t really matter. It’s clear that you needed a reminder of why Christmas is important to this family.”
“No offense, but all we’ve seen so far is two bad Christmases and two good Christmases,” I pointed out. “We didn’t need you to teach us a lesson we figured out on our own.”
“That’s right.” Aunt Tillie leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “You each saw one good Christmas and one bad Christmas from the lives you led before joining together. Why do you think that is?”
“Um … .” The thought hadn’t occurred to me. She was right, though. We witnessed one of each from both of our perspectives.
“Why don’t you tell us why that’s important?” Landon suggested. “We’re exhausted.”
“If you don’t know, you haven’t learned your lesson yet.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t matter anyway,” Landon argued. “You’re going to make us go through the whole thing regardless. That’s how you do things.”
“Besides, the future is the most exciting part, isn’t it?” I challenged. “You get to go off script for the future. You were hamstrung by the past – and even a little by t
he present – but the future is open territory. You can do whatever you want with the future.”
“I’m not doing anything.” Aunt Tillie adopted an innocent expression. “You’re the ones who decide your own future. That’s not on me.”
She was far too “cat that ate the canary” for my comfort. “This is going to bite, isn’t it?”
“Oh, Bay, there’s no reason to get yourself riled up. You might find you have some fun checking out the future.”
“I know you too well for that.”
“And yet … .” The grandfather clock in the corner struck two. “It’s time.”
“Time for what?” Landon asked, tightening his arms around me. “Our future isn’t going to be in that horror movie, is it?”
“You need to go to sleep to find out,” Aunt Tillie replied. “That’s what you need to do right now so you can wake up. Did you hear me? Wake up!”
Aunt Tillie bellowed the last word, causing me to struggle to a sitting position in my bed. I was back – again – but the story wasn’t over.
“I’m going to kill that old lady when I get my hands on her,” I muttered.
“You’re not the only one,” Landon said. “She’s on my list this time. She should be very afraid.”
I need a needle, popcorn and tinsel. I’m going to use the tinsel as a noose to hang Margaret Little and the needle to poke her for my enjoyment. The popcorn is in case I need a snack.
– Aunt Tillie getting in the Christmas spirit
Twelve
I immediately tossed off the covers and swiveled my legs so I could climb off the bed. Landon snagged me around the waist before I could escape.
“No.” He buried his face in the hollow between my neck and shoulder. “Stay here. Maybe if we’re really quiet, really still, she’ll forget about us and next time we fall asleep we won’t wake up until Christmas morning.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“I know, but … just give me thirty seconds.” Landon sounded so tired I couldn’t help but worry.
A Witchmas Carol Page 11
