wicked witches 07.5 - christmas witch

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I don’t even know what to say,” Marnie grumbled, turning back to the kitchen counter.

  “I do,” Winnie snapped. “What were you thinking taking them to a rehab facility?”

  “It was like a nice apartment complex with nurses,” I argued. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. There weren’t crazy people walking around drooling and collecting hair for homemade bird nests. The girls didn’t see any loonies. Personally, I was a little disappointed.”

  “You’re unbelievable,” Winnie said. “I can’t understand how you thought that was a good idea.”

  “The girls wanted to find Bernard and save Christmas,” I said. “I thought I was doing the right thing. How was I supposed to know he was in rehab?”

  “You weren’t,” Winnie shot back. “What if you cast that spell and it led you to a dead body? Did you ever think of that?”

  “Quite frankly, Thistle wouldn’t let me think of anything else,” I said. “She was convinced he was dead in a ditch somewhere. So, for her, this was a really great day.”

  “And what about Bay?” Winnie asked, her gaze pointed as it landed on her daughter.

  “She’s a little more upset,” I conceded.

  Winnie threw a dishtowel at me and rounded the counter, not stopping until she was next to Bay. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  “What is there to talk about?”

  “You know that Mr. Hill is sick and he has to stay in the hospital to get better, right?” Winnie pressed. “This has nothing to do with you, so there’s no reason to be upset.”

  “Christmas is ruined,” Bay said.

  “Christmas can’t be ruined,” Winnie argued. “Yes, you’re not getting the holiday party you wanted. You still have your family. You have gifts. Heck, Aunt Tillie – although I’m really angry with her right now – even made it snow. What more do you want, Bay?”

  “I … .” Bay worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

  “Tell me,” Winnie urged.

  “I wanted as much of the Christmas we had last year as I could get,” Bay admitted. “Everything changed this year. Everything is different. I wanted one thing to be the same. Is that too much to ask?”

  “I think it is,” Winnie replied, her tone even. “Life changes, kid. You don’t always get what you want. Enough is enough, though. People have been bending over backward to make this a perfect holiday for you. What are you doing to make the holiday better for others?”

  “What?” Bay was flabbergasted.

  “Not everything in this world is about you, Bay,” Winnie said. “I’m sorry you’re not happy. I’m sorry you think the world is coming to an end. You still have a lot more than most other people.

  “You have me. You have your aunts. You have your cousins. You even have Aunt Tillie,” she continued. “At a certain point, your insistence on having everything you want exactly how you want it makes you a spoiled brat.”

  “That’s not true!” Bay exploded. “I can’t help it if I want the town party to be the same. I’m not trying to upset you. Not everything I do is about you.”

  “Well, it feels like it is sometimes,” Winnie replied. “I want you to have the best this world has to offer, but you need to realize everyone isn’t going to bow down to your will and make life perfect for you. You have to make yourself happy in this world sometimes, Bay. It’s time you realized that.”

  “But … .”

  “No.” Winnie wagged a finger in Bay’s angry face. “Now, you need to go wash your hands for dinner. When dinner is over, I think you should go to bed early and think about what I said. I want you to really think about it.

  “Your Aunt Tillie did some incredibly stupid things today, but she did them out of the goodness of her heart because she desperately wants to see you smile,” Winnie said. “I’m done begging you to be happy, though. We all are. If you want to be miserable, you can do it alone. The rest of us are going to be happy on Christmas, whether it’s the Christmas you’ve been dreaming about or not.

  “Now, go wash your hands and when you come back for dinner I don’t want to hear a word about Christmas being ruined,” she said.

  Bay pushed herself up from the chair, her shoulders hunched as she trudged out of the room. She didn’t look at anyone, instead focusing on her stocking-clad feet. If Winnie thought that inspirational speech would snap Bay out of it, I think she had a sad realization of her own to come.

  “That was kind of harsh,” Marnie said once it was just the adults. “She’s just a kid.”

  “I know she is,” Winnie said, sucking in a deep breath. “I love that child more than anything in this world, but she has got to get a grip. Nothing in life is perfect.”

  “I shouldn’t have taken them to Traverse City,” I said. “I … it was a dumb idea. That doesn’t mean I still don’t think those girls deserve a great Christmas.”

  “Of course they deserve a great Christmas,” Winnie said. “That doesn’t mean they’re going to get some fairy tale holiday. A great Christmas isn’t the same thing as a perfect Christmas. Nothing in this world is perfect.”

  I licked my lips. “I’m not ready to give up.”

  “Well, you’d better,” Winnie said. “You’re out of time and Bay will have to deal with it. Apparently you will, too.”

  Well, we’d just have to see about that.

  I MADE myself scarce early in the afternoon on Christmas Eve. I couldn’t take one more second of Winnie’s tough love or Bay’s belligerence – and I knew both were going to be on display at the town Christmas party. Those two were a stubborn match, and I had a feeling things would explode before they got better.

  I didn’t want to witness it.

  Instead, I made my annual pilgrimage to the town cemetery to visit my Calvin. He’s been gone for a long time now, but I still feel his loss keenly at times – especially around the holidays.

  Calvin loved Christmas. He liked hiking into the woods to pick out a Christmas tree. He loved decorating it. He loved shopping – spending months picking out the exact right gift for the people he loved – and then he delighted in hiding them. I’m a snoop, so we turned it into a game. I really miss that game.

  I placed a bouquet of fresh flowers on his grave and dusted the snow from the top of his headstone. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by in a while,” I said. “Time overtakes me sometimes. I don’t have teenage nieces to contend with anymore, but those little girls are a handful these days.

  “Still … that’s no excuse,” I said. “I’ll do better next year.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  The voice took me by surprise and I swiveled quickly, stunned to find Calvin’s wispy countenance watching me from a few feet away. He is dead, his spirit long since passed on. “What are you doing here?” I wanted to throw myself in his arms. He is a ghost, though. He can’t hug me back.

  “I’m here for you.”

  I frowned. I loved the man, but that wasn’t funny. “I’m not dying yet,” I said. You tell whoever sent you for me that I have no intention of going with you. Come back in fifty years.”

  Calvin chuckled, the sound warming my heart even though I was still suspicious. “I’m not here to take you to the other side, Tillie,” he said. “I’m here to … see you.”

  “Not that I’m not happy for the visit, but can I ask why?”

  “I’m your Christmas present,” Calvin replied, floating closer to me so I could see the lines of his face up close. Goddess, I do miss that face.

  “You’re my Christmas present, huh?”

  Calvin nodded, his gaze traveling down to my pink combat boots. “You still have a flair for the dramatic I see.”

  “It’s always easier when people think you’re crazy,” I said. “You know that.”

  “I think you like the attention.”

  “I think you’re probably right,” I conceded. “It’s so good to see you. How long can you stay?”

  “Not long,” Calvin replied. “I’m only here to give you w
hat you need this holiday season.”

  “I had no idea ghosts were allowed to travel with a bottle of whiskey,” I teased, causing Calvin to smirk.

  “If I thought whiskey could save Christmas I would find a way to get you some,” Calvin said. “That’s not why I’m here, though.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Because you want to give Bay, Clove and Thistle the holiday they’ve been dreaming about, but you need my help to do it,” Calvin replied.

  “I … you’re going to help me save Christmas?”

  “You’re going to save Christmas all on your own,” Calvin said. “I’m here to give you the … inspiration … you need.”

  That didn’t sound so bad. “Okay. What do I do?”

  “I can’t answer that question for you,” Calvin said.

  “What can you do?”

  “Tell you that life is more than perfect holidays and quaint memories,” Calvin said. “You used to know that. I think you’re so desperate to give those girls what you think they want you forget that you already know what they need.”

  “I don’t remember you being this cryptic when you were alive,” I said.

  Calvin laughed, the throaty chuckle echoing throughout the cemetery. “I was always cryptic, but mostly because you talked enough for the both of us,” he said. “I think death makes people forget some of the bad things about someone’s personality.”

  “There was nothing bad about your personality.”

  “There was,” Calvin said. “It’s nice that you don’t want to remind me of them, though.”

  I waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t I narrowed my eyes and shot him a dirty look. “Aren’t you going to tell me that there’s nothing bad about my personality, too?”

  “I’m not here to lie to you,” he replied. “I’m here to help you.” He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the sky to gauge the position of the sun. “I don’t have a lot of time, Tillie. I wish I could spend the day with you – or even an hour – but I only have a few minutes.”

  “So what are you here to tell me?”

  I swear, even though he didn’t have a solid physical form, Calvin’s eyes twinkled. “You already know how to save Christmas, Tillie,” he said, blinking out of existence and then reappearing at my side. He was so close I could almost feel him and I involuntarily shuddered. “Think back to when you were their age. What made you happy at Christmas?”

  I briefly pressed my eyes shut. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

  “I’m already gone,” Calvin said. “You’ll see me again, though. I’m always watching you.”

  “Is that supposed to frighten me?”

  Calvin laughed again, though this time it was more distant. “Nothing frightens you, my dear,” he said. “Have a happy Christmas. We’ll be together again … someday. You have a lot left to give to this world, though. I’ll be waiting.”

  I knew he was gone before I opened my eyes. Why did he come? What was he trying to tell me? I closed my eyes again and searched my heart instead of my brain for a change. When I reopened my eyes, I knew what I had to do. Christmas wouldn’t be ruined after all. Now I just have to get all the pieces in place.

  Ten

  I found Terry at his house an hour before the start of the Christmas party as I had hoped. Convincing him to do what I was about to ask was going to be tricky.

  “What are you doing here?” Terry asked, his eyebrows flying up his forehead when he caught sight of me on his front porch. “I … did something happen to one of the girls? Is Bay okay?”

  The fact that he immediately worried about Bay made me realize Bay’s depression was taking a toll on everyone. “Bay is fine,” I said, rubbing the tender spot between my eyebrows as I regarded him. “Well, actually she’s not fine. She’ll be fine if you do what I want you to do, though.”

  Terry stilled. “What do you have in mind?”

  I smiled brightly and handed him the garment bag. He took it wordlessly, unzipped it to study what it contained, and immediately shook his head. “No way!”

  “There’s a very sad little girl whose heart will be broken if you don’t do this,” I reminded him. “Do you want to be responsible for that?”

  “That is an absolutely dirty way to play this game,” Terry warned. “You know darned well that’s not what I want.”

  “It’s not what I want either,” I said. “You and I can fix Christmas for Bay … and Clove and Thistle, too. Although, to be fair, I think Clove and Thistle will be fine regardless. They have a much faster rebound rate than Bay.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Terry said dryly. “I … I can’t do this. I don’t even know how to begin to do this.”

  “Now you’re just being ridiculous,” I said. “Everyone who has ever watched a movie knows how to do what I’m asking you to do. Now, you can say no. You can crush the dreams of the children in this town. I’m betting you’re not willing to do that, though.”

  “You are a horrible woman.”

  “I’ll see you in the town square in an hour,” I said. “Oh, and I have a gift for you to give to Bay, Clove and Thistle when it’s their turn.” I pushed the box I’d set beside his door inside so he could take a gander at what I’d gotten them.

  “Oh, you’re going to be in so much trouble when your nieces see this … .”

  “Yeah, well, they’ll live,” I said. “Don’t be late, and don’t forget the gift.”

  “Trust me. You don’t have to worry about me forgetting the gift.”

  “That’s good,” I said, moving toward the door.

  “What are you going to do while I’m doing this?”

  I made a face. “Someone has to make it snow again. Sheesh.”

  THE town practically glowed when I arrived at the party an hour later, the sound of squealing children and happy adults meeting my ears as I scanned the familiar faces for the ones I sought.

  It didn’t take me long to find them. Clove and Thistle were having a good time, hot chocolate clutched in their hands as they hopped up and down and pointed at the Christmas tree that was about to be lighted. Bay stood behind them, her own cup of hot chocolate resting in her mitten-covered hand, staring glumly at the tree.

  Marnie and Twila laughed as they stood close to their daughters, happy to let them enjoy the moment from a few feet away. Winnie was more detached, and while she tried to pretend to have a good time, I could tell Bay’s unhappiness weighed on her.

  I headed in their direction, pulling up short when Poppy stepped in my path. Her second cold sore was even bigger than the first. There was no way she would be able to explain away the blimp resting on her bottom lip.

  “Make it go away!”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied, pasting my best “I’m innocent and there’s no way you can blame me for this” smile on my face. “You look … festive … this evening. The red of your … beauty mark … really tops off the decorations nicely.”

  “I’ll have you arrested for this,” Poppy threatened.

  “You’re going to have me arrested for the cold sore on your lip? That’s a neat trick. Tell me how that works out for you.” I patted her arm as I walked past, lowering my voice so only she could hear. “If you don’t rein in that monstrous thing you call a daughter, I’ll give you eight more to match the two you already have.” I made sure I was several feet away before I opened my mouth again. “Have an absolutely fabulous Christmas!”

  Winnie, her face unreadable, watched me as I approached. “What was all that about?”

  “If they still did floggings in public, I would arrange a way for Poppy Stevens to get one,” I replied.

  “That would be a Christmas gift for us all,” Winnie said.

  My gaze bounced between her and Bay. “Still nothing, huh?”

  “She’s decided to pout her way through the entire day and I refuse to give in and coddle her,” Winnie answered. “It’s a standoff.”

  “Do you think you’ll win?”
>
  “Probably not,” Winnie conceded. “I’ll probably crumble like a stale cookie and start begging in about ten minutes.”

  “At least you’re honest,” I said, patting her shoulder. “Don’t give in yet. I think there’s a way you can both get a win out of this, and it’s right around the corner.”

  “Oh, yeah? What is that? Are you going to make it snow again?”

  As if on cue, the flakes began falling. Unlike the quick spurt of snow I unleashed before, this was a soft smattering that cascaded to the ground in fluffy wisps.

  “Oh, Aunt Tillie,” Winnie chided. “You didn’t have to do this again.”

  The children screamed in delight at the flakes, causing my heart to swell as I puffed out my chest. “I wouldn’t be the wickedest witch in the Midwest if I didn’t make the children happy on Christmas, would I?”

  “Actually, I don’t think that makes a lot of sense,” Winnie said. “I thank you for the gift anyway.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek, a thoughtful expression on her face as she pulled back. “You know, it occurs to me that you never told us what you wanted this Christmas.”

  “I’m an adult. I don’t need a Christmas gift.”

  “You usually leave your list on the kitchen table right next to the girls’ when they write their lists,” Winnie pointed out.

  I smirked. “I bought my own gift this year,” I said. “And, well, I had another special gift waiting for me at the cemetery today.”

  “Is that where you disappeared to?” Winnie asked. “You know we would’ve gone with you, right? You didn’t have to go alone.”

  “I wasn’t alone.”

  Winnie wrinkled her nose. “Who were you with?”

  “Santa Claus,” I said, my grin widening as the sound of sleigh bells approached the town square.

  “What did you do?” Winnie asked, jerking her head in the direction of the jingling. She started giggling the moment she saw the sleigh. Try as I might, I couldn’t find any reindeer. Henry Hall gladly loaned me a few horses, though, so that was at least something.