Landon looked like he was about ready to shove his fork into his own eye socket to end the pain. Sludge, who was sitting on the other side of him, leaned over and patted him on the back. “These women are amazing, bro. They know things.”
“And what do they know?” Landon eyed Sludge suspiciously.
“They can see the future,” he said.
“Really? Then you would think they would have foreseen getting plowed in at the store. What were you guys even doing there?” Landon rounded on me. “I saw you leave an hour before that and I thought you were going home then.”
“We forgot we needed something at the pharmacy,” I said evasively.
“What? What could be so important that you would need to be out in that storm?” Landon was using his irritation as a weapon now.
“Thistle has a cold sore,” Clove said helpfully.
Thistle shot her a dirty look. “Not for long,” she grunted out, shifting her angry eyes to Aunt Tillie.
For her part, Aunt Tillie looked appropriately innocent. Anyone that didn’t know her would think she was a sweet old lady enjoying her mashed potatoes. Until she opened her mouth, that is. “At least your pants fit again.”
“There is that,” Clove said hurriedly. She was desperate to avoid another family fight. Her need to play peacemaker, though, backfired on her.
“You should be taking Thistle’s side,” Aunt Tillie said.
“What?” Clove looked confused.
“You should remain loyal to your cousin,” Aunt Tillie said. “You shouldn’t be siding with me, no matter how scared you are that I’ll retaliate. That’s what family does.”
You never know what’s going to set Aunt Tillie off. This was just further proof.
I turned to Landon. “Aren’t you glad you decided to stay in town for the blizzard?”
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“You and me, a warm fire,” Landon shrugged. “Trust me, your mom and aunt didn’t play into the fantasy.”
I glanced up and saw that my mom was watching us with a disapproving look on her face. “Well,” she said stiffly. “It looks like things have worked out for the best then, doesn’t it?”
Landon looked taken aback. “I guess so,” he swallowed hard. “I thought she liked me,” he whispered.
“She does,” I laughed. “When you’re not making dirty comments, that is.”
“How was that dirty?”
“I think the visions of naked sugar fairies dancing in your head tipped her off.” I was only teasing, but Landon looked frightened.
“She can read my mind?”
“No,” I shook my head. “It was written all over your face.”
Landon had gone white. When he glanced back up at my mom, she was still giving him a dirty look.
“I guess I’m sleeping on the couch tonight,” he said finally.
“I think that would be a good idea,” my mom agreed.
Thistle and Clove were exchanging conspiratorial looks across the table. I knew what they were thinking: Just because he went to bed on the couch, that didn’t mean he would stay there.
Twenty-Five
After dinner, everyone had warm hot chocolate in front of the fire and listened to Twila tell ghost stories. Unfortunately, Twila’s ghost stories were essentially episodes of General Hospital wrapped around ghosts. When she got to the part about the evil Greek ghosts trying to freeze the world, I was done.
My mom had brought out three warm blankets and two fluffy pillows for Landon. He had opted for the big couch in the library, since it was off the main drag of the house and secluded.
After that, everyone retired to their individual rooms. I thought about sticking around with Landon for a while, but my mom was watching me like a hawk. Instead, I waved a half-hearted goodnight to him and followed Thistle and Clove upstairs.
Once we were safely on the other side of the door, Thistle sighed heavily. “This day has really sucked.”
I picked up the flannel sleeping pants and T-shirts lying on the bed – all belonging to our mothers – and nodded in agreement. “It couldn’t have gone much worse.”
Clove pulled one of the T-shirts over her head – the one that said “Witches do it the wicked way” and shook her head. “This sucks.”
I threw myself on one of the double beds lazily.
“What are you thinking?” Thistle asked. “Other than wondering what Landon looks like naked, I mean.”
“I wasn’t think about that,” I said irritably.
“Right.” Thistle didn’t look convinced.
“I was thinking about the Bakers,” I said finally.
“The Bakers?” Thistle looked grossed out. “That’s a weird fantasy.”
“Not like that,” I lobbed a pillow at her. “I was just thinking that it was weird that they decided to stay, even though they knew a blizzard was coming.”
“The snowboarding hipsters stayed, too,” Clove said.
“Yeah, but they want the snow,” I said. “They want to go out to the resort and play in it. The Bakers are an old retired couple.”
Thistle regarded me curiously. “So, wait, what are you thinking?”
“We still don’t have a picture of the couple from the boat,” I said. “And the Bakers showed up right before the boat showed up.”
“So, you think the Bakers are really the Canadian couple from the boat?” Thistle didn’t look convinced.
“I think it’s a possibility,” I said finally.
“I think you’re suspicious by nature,” Clove interjected. “I think you see a conspiracy around every corner.”
“Says the woman that sees coffins around every corner,” Thistle scoffed.
“I’m just saying that the Bakers seem like a nice and normal couple,” Clove said.
“I’m not saying they’re not,” I said finally. “I’m just saying I want to make sure.”
“We could just go and check the ledger book,” Thistle suggested. “They should have a copy of their credit card down there.”
“Wouldn’t they have noticed if the credit card didn’t match the names when they checked in?” Clove argued.
“Not if Twila checked them in,” I said. “Or Aunt Tillie.”
“Aunt Tillie doesn’t check in guests,” Clove said.
“She does sometimes, when she’s bored,” Thistle said. “Come on,” she moved towards the door. “It will just take a minute. Besides, Bay isn’t going to be able to sleep unless we look.”
Clove sighed and got to her feet. “Fine, but if we get in trouble, I’m blaming you.”
“You always do.”
“That’s a mean thing to say,” Clove sniffed.
“I’m not the one that said it,” Thistle replied. “Aunt Tillie did.”
“I’m starting to see what you mean when you say that she’s an evil old lady,” Clove said.
“Oh, now when she yells at you, she’s evil,” Thistle said sarcastically. “When she’s cursing me left and right, though? She’s just misunderstood.”
I shushed them both as we opened the door. “Can we finish this argument later?”
Clove and Thistle wordlessly filed in behind me. I saw Thistle reach out and pinch Clove, though, when she thought I wasn’t looking. Clove smacked her hand and then yanked her hair. I stepped in between them. “When we’re back in the room,” I reminded them.
“Fine,” Thistle grumbled.
The hallway was silent as we made our way down it. Once we got to the stairs, Thistle paused. “Remember, the third step squeaks.”
We had found that out the hard way when we were sneaking out as teenagers. Aunt Tillie hadn’t thought we were so funny that night. She’d taken to locking us in our rooms for an entire week with a spell. Thistle had tried to get around the spell by climbing out the window, but since it was the second story, that had ended with a broken leg. We were a lot more careful after that.
When we got
to the main floor, Thistle listened at the kitchen door for a minute and then shook her head. “I can hear Aunt Tillie snoring in her chair,” she whispered.
We all tiptoed to the front foyer, although I did cast a glance into the library to see if Landon was sleeping. I couldn’t hear anything, but his back was turned to us and he wasn’t moving. That was probably good. I didn’t want to explain what we were doing.
Once we got to the foyer, Clove moved to turn on the light – but Thistle stopped her. “They’ll see the light,” she argued. “It might wake Landon up.”
“So? What does he care?”
“Do you want to explain to him what we’re doing?” I asked.
“I don’t care,” Clove shrugged. “It was your idea.”
“Well, I don’t want to explain that we’re looking for dirt on an old couple,” I grumbled.
“Because now you realize you’re crazy,” Clove said knowingly.
“Let’s just look at the records and be done with it,” Thistle sniped.
We followed her behind the desk and watched as she lit the oil lamp on the counter with a snap of her fingers. Thistle reached under the counter and pulled out the big ledger. She flipped a few pages and then turned to me. “They’re in room six.”
I pulled out the expandable file folder that my mom and aunts used for current guests and found the folder for room six. I pulled out the papers from inside and studied them under the dim light for a second. Thistle glanced over my shoulder. “Thomas Baker of Grand Rapids, Michigan,” she read. “Looks like you were wrong.”
“I guess so,” I agreed. “At least we know.”
“I already knew,” Clove said disdainfully.
“You know everything,” Thistle said haughtily.
“What are you three doing?”
We all jumped when we saw Landon standing in the doorway. He was a mix of sleep and confusion.
“Nothing,” I said hurriedly.
“Nothing? You’re sneaking around and looking at inn records in the middle of the night for nothing?”
“Bay thought the old couple was suspicious,” Clove said quickly. “We were just making sure all their financial records were right.”
Thistle elbowed Clove hard.
“I am the snitch,” Clove sighed. “I’m always the snitch.”
Landon looked confused. “You thought the old couple was suspicious?”
“Not suspicious,” I corrected him. “I just thought it was weird that they showed up right before the Canadian couple disappeared.”
Realization dawned on Landon’s face. “You thought they were the Canadian couple?”
I shrugged.
“What did the records say?” Landon looked interested, despite himself.
“Tom and Lenore Baker from Grand Rapids,” I sighed. “Just like they said.”
“It wasn’t a bad idea,” Landon said gently. “Now we know.”
“Now you know what?”
All four of us froze at the sound of Aunt Tillie’s voice.
“I thought you said she was sleeping?” I hissed.
“She was snoring,” Thistle countered.
“I can hear the sounds of evil-doers in my sleep,” Aunt Tillie said. “Now, what are you all doing?”
There was no way I was going to tell her that we were sneaking around being suspicious of her guests. Thistle obviously read my mind because she clamped her hand over Clove’s wrist to keep her quiet.
“I was just sneaking around to see Landon,” I said finally.
Landon looked surprised, but he didn’t contradict me.
“And you brought Clove and Thistle with you?”
“They thought I needed a chaperone,” I said sheepishly.
“They’re probably right,” Aunt Tillie said. I couldn’t meet her searching gaze out of guilt. “You always were the easy one.”
“The easy one?” I protested. “That’s unfair.”
“Weren’t you the one suspended for making out with the quarterback in the nurse’s office when you were in high school?”
I had forgotten about that.
“Weren’t you also the one that I caught in the Miller’s barn with their youngest boy when you were fifteen?”
“That’s not fair,” I countered. “I really did go in there to look at the kittens.”
“Only Bobby Miller got to see the . . . full cat,” Thistle said with a laugh.
Landon smirked in my direction. “Are you saying you were the town slut?”
Aunt Tillie rounded on him angrily. “She’s not a slut,” she argued. “She was just sexually curious. It got her into a lot of trouble when she was younger. I had hoped she’d grown out of it.”
“I have,” I said lamely.
“Obviously not.”
Aunt Tillie turned to the three of us. “Do you need me to walk you back to your room?”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said stiffly as we moved past her and started climbing the steps that led back to our room.
“See, you got us in trouble,” Clove hissed.
I could hear Landon laughing behind us. “What are you laughing at? Do you need me to walk you back to your couch?”
“No ma’am.”
Once we were back in our room, I changed into the proffered pajamas and then tiptoed back to the door.
“Where are you going?” Thistle asked.
“I just want to say goodnight to Landon,” I said innocently.
I opened the door and then pulled back in surprise. Aunt Tillie was sitting in a wood chair in the hallway – and she had a shot gun on her lap. “What the hell?”
“I’m saving you from yourself,” she said tiredly. “Now go to bed.”
I shut the door behind me and turned to Thistle and Clove. “I’m an adult, for crying out loud.”
“Not to her.”
I climbed into one of the beds and pulled the covers over my head irritably. I could feel Clove slide in next to me. “This is not how I saw this night going,” I said finally.
“I don’t think anyone saw the night going this way,” Thistle grumbled from the other bed. “Don’t you think I’d rather be cuddled up with Marcus and a good book?”
“A book?” Clove scoffed.
“A book, a marathon of The Walking Dead, I’d be fine with either.”
“Go to sleep,” I muttered. “The sooner we go to sleep the sooner we can get up and go back home.”
Clove giggled. “You go to sleep first. You’re the one keeping us up.”
“If you don’t all go to sleep right now I’m going to separate you,” Aunt Tillie yelled from the hallway. “I’ll make you go sleep with your mothers.”
“See,” Clove whispered. “You two always get me in trouble.”
“And you always tell on us,” Thistle shot back.
“I said, go to sleep!”
“Yes, Aunt Tillie,” we all sang in unison and then dissolved into giggles. It was like we were teenagers again.
Twenty-Six
“Wake up!”
Aunt Tillie’s face swam into view, inches from my own. “Gah!” I rolled away from her instinctively and fell off the left side of the bed I had, just seconds before, been slumbering in.
From my spot on the floor, I glanced up at the other bed to see Thistle wearily rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she regarded Aunt Tillie suspiciously. “What is your deal?”
“It’s 7:30 a.m., it’s time to get up,” Aunt Tillie said primly. “You’re sleeping your lives away.”
“It’s a snow day,” Clove grumbled from the other side of the bed I had just been sleeping in. “You don’t have to get up early on a snow day.”
Aunt Tillie walked around the bed and yanked the covers off Clove irritably. “I said, get up.”
“Why are you being so mean?” Clove whined.
“That’s what keeps her alive,” Thistle grumbled. “She’s nourished by the pain she inflicts on others.”
“It’s like The Addams Family motto,”
I grumbled.
“What is?” Clove asked in confusion. None of us are exactly sharp in the morning.
“Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc,” I enunciated slowly, trying to pull the memory from my brain.
Thistle giggled from her own bed. “I forgot,” she said. “We were obsessed with that for a few months when we were in middle school. We were convinced that Aunt Tillie was the real life inspiration for The Addams Family.”
Aunt Tillie narrowed her eyes at Thistle. “What does it mean?”
“Look it up,” Thistle replied harshly.
Aunt Tillie swung around, hands on hips, and pursed her lips at me. “What does that mean?”
I didn’t try to hide my smirk. Thistle, Clove and I had went through a faze as kids where we talked in Latin so Aunt Tillie wouldn’t be able to know what we were talking about. Unfortunately, we were as lazy as we were ingenious – we’d given up learning actual Latin after two weeks and started speaking pig Latin instead. It wasn’t quite as effective.
Aunt Tillie smacked the top of my head. “What does it mean?”
“It’s nothing bad,” I groaned and climbed to my feet. “Why are you always so suspicious?”
“If it was nothing bad, you would tell me what it means,” Aunt Tillie countered.
“We will gladly feast on those that try to subdue us,” I bit out in aggravation.
“What does that mean?” Aunt Tillie’s face was starting to redden. I couldn’t decide if it was the wine she’d been sipping in the hall before she fell asleep last night or the morning exertion of trying to wrangle the three of us into a wakeful state that was getting to her. I had a feeling it was a combination of the both.
“That’s The Addams Family motto,” I said blithely. “We will gladly feast on those that try to subdue us.”
Aunt Tillie rolled the words through her mind for a second and then smiled. “I like it.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I replied.
“Get ready for breakfast,” Aunt Tillie turned on her heel. “Your mothers have gone all out because we’re housebound.”
“How much snow did we get?” Clove asked.
“More than a foot and less than two feet,” Aunt Tillie said.
Witching You Were Here (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 3) Page 16
