“I guess now we know why you’re Aunt Tillie’s favorite,” Landon mused. “You remind her of Ginger.”
I stilled, surprised. “What?”
“You said Tillie and Ginger were close,” Landon pointed out. “When Ginger died so young it must have devastated her. If you see yourself in Ginger, there’s a good chance Aunt Tillie does, too.”
“But … Aunt Tillie doesn’t favor me.” I was flabbergasted he would suggest anything of the sort.
“Of course she does,” Landon said, brushing my hair from my face. “She loves all of you. She likes fighting with Thistle. She’s moderately protective of Clove. You, though, you’re the one she actually talks to.
“Now, granted, it’s not very often she opens up,” he continued. “When she does, though, it’s because you remind her of Ginger. I can kind of see it, although Ginger was a lot more timid than you are.”
“You never saw me as a child,” I said. “I was afraid of everything back then, especially someone discovering my secret.”
“Well, that was a lot of wasted energy,” Landon said, his pragmatic side taking over. “You should never hide who you are. I happen to love who you are, and all you did by hiding was torture yourself.”
“Oh, well, now you tell me,” I deadpanned. “I guess everything is all better now.”
“Don’t get sarcastic,” Landon said. “I know that’s rich coming from me, but at least we’re together and no fairy tale monsters are chasing us. This is already better than the last spell gone wrong.”
He was almost chipper. I couldn’t help but be suspicious. “Did someone slip you a drug when I wasn’t looking? Little Tillie didn’t touch you, but she was probably powerful at that age.”
“It’s a good thing you’re cute, because otherwise I would have to spank you – and not in a fun way,” Landon said. “I’m not trying to upset you. I’m trying to look on the bright side of life.”
“There’s a bright side?” I must have missed it during the flying colors portion of today’s events.
“There is a bright side,” Landon confirmed. “We’re together. We’re not stuck in a storm. Things are going to be okay.”
“And suddenly you’re being the cheerleader while I’m in a funk,” I mused. “That can’t be good.”
“Stop being a kvetch.”
I scowled. That was Aunt Tillie’s favorite word for Clove. Landon was enamored with the word of late. It drove me crazy. “I am not a kvetch.”
“I’m going to have a T-shirt made declaring you a kvetch.”
“Whatever,” I muttered, scanning our new location for the first time. “Huh.”
“Huh, what? That was a loaded ‘huh.’ I don’t like loaded huhs.”
“I think this is the old downtown,” I said, twirling so I could look the town over at every angle. “This is the old Walkerville.”
“You mean Hemlock Cove, right?” Landon said.
“Right. Walkerville was the town’s name before they magically rebranded it.”
“That was before my time,” Landon said. “This doesn’t look like Hemlock Cove. Why do you think this is Hemlock Cove? And why are the streets empty if this is Hemlock Cove? Crap. You don’t think Aunt Tillie cursed us to that zombie book, do you? If zombies start shuffling down the street I’m going to be really ticked off.”
When we were cursed into a book of fairy tales, my mother and aunts were cursed into a zombie book. Aunt Tillie needed time to break the law without anyone looking over her shoulder. My mother said it was terrifying and clammed up, refusing to talk further about it. My family might have a few issues.
“And pessimistic Landon is back,” I teased. “All is right with the world.”
“Ha, ha. Seriously, though, why do you think this is Hemlock Cove?”
“Because that’s the high school,” I said, pointing toward the brick building across the way. “And that’s the newspaper office.”
Landon narrowed his eyes. “That building is half the size of The Whistler’s office,” he argued.
“That’s because the building was expanded in the 1980s,” I explained. “That’s the original building. Do you want to know how I know? Ask me how I know.”
“This game is growing weary, but I’ll bite,” Landon said. “How do you know?”
“Because there’s a photo of the original building on the wall in the newspaper’s front lobby,” I answered. “This is definitely Walkerville.”
“Well, great,” Landon said, rolling his neck until it cracked. “Do you think we’re in the same time period we were a few minutes ago?”
I shook my head when I caught sight of a tall boy striding down the sidewalk across the street. He had to be almost six and a half feet tall. His hair was black and his shoulders slouched as he walked toward the high school. I’d seen photographs of him before, too. I’d even talked to him a handful of times when I was a child – after his death, of course – although I hadn’t seen his ghost in years.
Landon snapped his fingers in my face to draw my attention back. “Where did you just go?”
“We have to follow him,” I said, excitedly grabbing Landon’s hand.
“Why? Do you know who that is?”
I nodded as I pulled Landon down the street. “I know exactly who that is, and we’re definitely not in the same time period we were a few minutes ago.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because, if we were, he would be the pervert in this story,” I answered.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Landon said, struggling to keep up as I increased my pace to a borderline jog. “Bay!”
“Come on,” I prodded. “That’s my uncle Calvin.”
“Aunt Tillie’s husband?” Despite himself, Landon was intrigued. He sped up without further prodding, following me as we skirted around the town’s park benches and hurried toward the school. “I don’t understand. How do you recognize him? That kid can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen.”
“I talked to him before.”
“When? You said your uncle died before you were born.” Landon was flummoxed.
“His ghost came to me a few times when I was younger,” I explained. “It was usually when Aunt Tillie was having a hard time. He made me … do things.”
“Not gross things, right? You’re not telling me you had a funny ghost uncle, are you?”
“Don’t be sick,” I snapped. “Those aren’t the types of things he asked me to do. What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know,” Landon said, slowing his pace so we didn’t get too close to Calvin. “Maybe all of Aunt Tillie’s pervert talk made my mind go to a bad place. I can’t explain it. I’m sorry. From what I understand, your uncle was a good guy.”
“According to Mom and my aunts, he was the best guy,” I supplied. “He was the one they went to when they were upset. He helped them build doghouses … and tree houses … and even dollhouses.
“I’m sure you gather that Aunt Tillie wasn’t really a nurturer,” I continued. “She did her best, but she’s never been one for doling out hugs and kisses. Uncle Calvin did all of that.”
“He sounds like a cool guy,” Landon said. “Just for clarification, though, I’m the best guy. He can have second place.”
“You are the best guy,” I conceded. “I just … want to see him.”
“Okay,” Landon said. “It’s not as though we have anything else to do … like get out of this place or anything.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Have you considered we’re here to see what’s about to happen?”
“No.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Why not?”
“Because, well, I don’t know,” Landon said. “I’m looking for an exit and you’re looking for popcorn. I guess your way makes sense if we really are here for a reason, like your great-grandmother said. She’s terrifying, by the way.”
“I never met her either, but the stories Aunt Tillie tells are legendary,” I said, leaning
against a tree and watching as Calvin approached two girls leaving the high school. One of them boasted reddish blond hair. The other had long, dark waves dipping past her shoulders. “Look. It’s Ginger and Tillie again.”
“Why don’t you call her ‘Aunt Tillie’ when she’s younger?”
I shrugged. “Because she’s not my aunt yet, and it feels weird calling her that before she has the job.”
“I guess that’s as good an answer as anything,” Landon said, smiling when he saw Calvin reach for Tillie’s books. “Wait … is he going to carry her books home? Is he that guy?”
“And what guy is that?” I asked, smiling when I saw Tillie blush. “Look how cute they are. She’s embarrassed.”
“She’s smitten,” Landon corrected. “Look at the way she stares at him. It’s the same way you stare at me, and I’m guessing she hasn’t even seen him naked yet.”
I flicked his ear. “Get your mind out of the gutter,” I chided. “Don’t ruin this for me. It’s … romantic.”
Landon slipped his arm around my waist and watched as Tillie and Calvin chatted, seemingly in no hurry to leave the school grounds. Ginger trailed behind, enjoying the spectacle herself. She clearly liked her sister’s future husband, which made me like her even more. She wasn’t jealous or insecure. She was happy for her sister, and it showed.
“Mom said that Uncle Calvin walked Aunt Tillie home from school ten times before she agreed to go out with him,” I said. “I wonder which time this is.”
“I’m guessing it’s the important time,” Landon said, casting me a sidelong look. “Do you want me to carry your newspapers home and prove I’m romantic?”
“I think putting up with my family already proves you’re romantic.”
“Yes, but I want to be the winner in the Winchester romance game,” Landon said. “I’m starting to wonder if this guy has me beat.”
“Not in my heart.”
“Well, I guess that’s as good as it’s going to get,” Landon said, brushing a kiss against my temple. “They do look kind of cute. He’s as tall as a tree and she’s as short as the bush next to it. I wonder how they … you know.”
“Why is your mind so dirty today?” I challenged. “You’re ruining a romantic moment.”
“Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking it, too,” Landon argued. “There has to be some logistical thing we’re missing here. He could crush her.”
“He’s thin, though,” I argued.
“Ha! See, you have been thinking about it,” Landon said. “I knew it. You can’t look at them and not wonder.”
“I’m starting to see what Aunt Tillie means when she calls you a pervert.”
“I will gladly take that title, too,” Landon said, narrowing his eyes as he watched another girl hurry out of the school. “Uh-oh. I think that’s Willa. Am I right?”
I squinted so I could see over the distance and frowned as she drew closer to her sisters. “Yeah. That’s her.”
“Tillie,” Willa called out. “You’re supposed to wait for me before walking home. You know that.”
“Why do you think we’re still here?” Tillie shot back. I couldn’t see her face well enough to discern the eye roll, but I knew it was there. “We’re not waiting in this spot for our health.”
“You’re supposed to wait in the school,” Willa pointed out.
“We were just outside,” Ginger said, obviously trying to play peacekeeper between her tempestuous sisters. “We didn’t leave you. It’s a beautiful day. We didn’t want to waste it.”
Willa ignored the apology. “Hello, Calvin,” she cooed, the voices becoming easier to hear as the foursome trudged in our direction. They seemingly didn’t see us, or if they did, they didn’t care about our presence. “You look handsome today.”
I made a face, anger on behalf of Aunt Tillie taking over. “Do you see that? She’s flirting with Aunt Tillie’s man.”
Landon snorted. “I think Tillie can take care of herself,” he said. “Plus, look at Calvin. He only has eyes for Tillie. It’s as if no one else exists.”
Calvin was definitely fixated on Tillie, though he didn’t ignore everyone else – even though he refused to drag his eyes away from his future wife. “Hello, Willa. How are you today?”
“I’m great,” Willa bubbled, moving to Calvin’s side. “I’m going to run for Homecoming queen. I’m going to make my own dress. Everyone says I’m the prettiest girl in the school, so I think I’ll definitely win. What do you think?”
Calvin’s cheeks colored. “I think you’re very pretty,” he said. “I think Tillie is the prettiest girl in the school, though.”
Instead of some withering retort, Tillie’s cheeks reddened to the point where I worried she would pass out. She was embarrassed … and pleased. It was a side of Aunt Tillie I’d never seen. It was almost charming.
“She’s not pretty,” Willa scoffed. “I’m pretty.”
“Yes, we know,” Tillie said, finally finding her voice. “You tell yourself that every morning when you look in the mirror.”
“That’s a lie!”
“I’ve seen you do it,” Tillie argued. “You sit there and admire yourself because no one else will do it if you don’t.”
“You can’t say things like that to me,” Willa hissed. “Daddy warned you about it. I’m going to tell him. You know that, right?”
“Of course I know it,” Tillie replied. They were almost even with us now, although they still hadn’t looked in our direction. “That’s the way you live your life. You’re a tattletale.”
“Well, I’m definitely telling now,” Willa huffed. “You’re not going to like what happens when I tell Daddy what you said. He’s going to make it so you can’t go out with Calvin.”
“Just so you know, he hasn’t even asked me to go out with him today,” Tillie snapped. “Dad can’t stop something before it even happens.”
“Well, I’ll make sure it never happens if you’re not careful,” Willa threatened.
“If it’s possible, she’s even more unlikable now than she was when we met her,” Landon muttered, shaking his head. “What is wrong with her?”
“She’s a genuinely unhappy person,” I replied, keeping my voice low. “She wants others to be unhappy, too.”
Calvin cleared his throat. “Well, if that’s true, I guess I should give your father something to take away, huh?”
Tillie shifted. “What do you mean?”
“How about it?” Calvin prodded. “Will you go out with me? I’ll take you to dinner and everything.”
Tillie glanced at Ginger, clearly unsure. I knew she wanted to say yes, but she was worried about the ramifications if she did. That was another side of Aunt Tillie I’d never seen before. The woman I knew didn’t care about ramifications.
“You know what? I would love to go out with you,” Tillie said, a wide grin splitting her face as Willa scowled and Calvin beamed.
“Really?” Calvin looked so earnest it almost broke my heart.
“Really,” Tillie confirmed.
“I’m telling,” Willa said, breaking into a run. “I’m telling Daddy!”
“I hate her,” Tillie muttered as they moved past us, never once looking in our direction. “I’m going to make her eat dirt before this is all said and done.”
“Don’t make things worse, Tillie,” Ginger said, locking gazes with me as she slowed her pace. “This will all work out. You’ll see.”
My heart caught in my throat as I stared back at my grandmother. I felt caught and had no idea what to do or say. “I … .”
“There’s no time,” Ginger said, her voice barely a whisper. “Don’t let her stay here, Bay. It’s important. Make sure she doesn’t stay here.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
Ginger was already following Tillie and Calvin again, though. She didn’t bother looking over her shoulder.
“How do you know who I am?”
The question didn’t get answered, because befo
re I could give Ginger’s words any thought the colors started swirling again. We were moving.
“Landon?”
He grabbed my hand. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
You only get one great love in your life. I really believe that. Pick right. If you pick wrong, you’re going to get stuck with a loser. Then I’m going to have to kick him in the behind because you picked a loser. Then you’re going to cry, and I’m going to have to kick you in the behind because crying gives me heartburn. So, what have we learned? That’s right. I like to kick people in the behind and I hate heartburn.
– Aunt Tillie explains marriage to her great-nieces
Five
This time when we landed it was on something softer. Unfortunately it was a bed, and if I had to guess, it was Aunt Tillie’s bed. I rolled to my side, relieved to find Landon still clutching my hand.
“That one wasn’t as bad.”
“No,” Landon agreed. “That’s probably because we landed on a bed, though. Had it been pavement your bottom would be black and blue.”
“I guess you’d have to kiss it and make it better,” I teased.
“And you think I’m the pervert,” Landon muttered, glancing around the room. “Where are we now?”
I pointed toward the framed photograph next to the bed. It showed Calvin and Aunt Tillie posing under a tree. They looked blissfully happy. “This is Aunt Tillie’s room,” I answered. “At least, I think it’s her room. She still has that photo in her bedroom now.”
“Oh, gross,” Landon said, scurrying off the bed. “This is probably where she and Calvin … you know.”
“For a pervert, you have a very limited vocabulary,” I said, moving to climb off the other side of the bed and pausing when I saw the garment bag hanging in the closet. “I wonder … .”
“You wonder what?” Landon asked, watching as I strode toward the closet and peered inside the bag. “What is that? It’s not Willa, is it? If it is, we’re leaving her strung up in there. I can’t take spending time with that woman if it isn’t necessary.”
“It’s not Willa,” I said, opening the bag to give Landon a peek. “It’s Aunt Tillie’s wedding gown.”
A Witch In Time Page 4
