wicked witches 08.6 - a witch in time

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Because you look like her, Bay,” Landon replied. “Her hair has reddish tints to it and she’s shorter than you, but otherwise you have a lot of the same facial features. Somehow she recognized that. I’m sure of it.”

  “Do you really think I look like her?” I’d heard it before, but looking at my dead grandmother in photographs wasn’t the same as coming face to face with her.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think she’s pretty?”

  Despite his earlier irritation, Landon couldn’t help but smile. “She doesn’t hold a candle to you,” he said. “You’re the prettiest woman in the world.”

  “You probably shouldn’t lay it on so thick,” I said dryly. “If you’d stopped before that last part I would’ve declared you the world’s most romantic man again.”

  “I was telling the truth,” Landon said.

  This time it was my cheeks burning instead of Aunt Tillie’s. “I … um … thank you.”

  “You’re terrible when I compliment you,” Landon complained. “We’re going to have to work on that. Now isn’t the time, though. Tell me why you think we’re not traveling through time. It would seem that’s the easiest answer to this problem.”

  “Because I don’t think real time travel is possible,” I answered, taking Landon by surprise. “This isn’t Star Trek. There are too many problems associated with time travel. For example, what if we’d somehow ruined Aunt Tillie’s acceptance of a date with Calvin? That could’ve changed my entire life. We might never have met if Aunt Tillie met someone else, married him, and somehow never got custody of Mom, Marnie and Twila.”

  “Okay,” Landon said, soaking it all in as he rubbed the back of his neck. “If it’s not time travel, what is it?”

  “I have a theory.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “I think we’re trapped in Aunt Tillie’s mind.”

  Landon’s face was blank despite the fact I expected him to explode. “Okay. Great. That would explain my headache.”

  “You’re not being serious,” I prodded. “I seriously think we’re stuck in Aunt Tillie’s mind. She’s the common denominator in all of these … memories.”

  Landon stilled. “Memories?”

  “That’s what they are,” I replied. “Every time the colors swirl and we’re jolted into another scene it’s essentially us being shuffled from one memory to the next. I think Aunt Tillie is still unconscious in the hospital, and this is what she’s thinking about.”

  “Let’s say I buy this,” Landon said. “If time travel is impossible, how is it possible for Aunt Tillie to suck us into her mind? That has to be even more problematic.”

  “I don’t think she did it on purpose,” I explained. “She was unconscious, not dead. She still has powers. She was in pain … maybe afraid … so she went to a happier place.”

  “How did we end up with her?”

  “We were vulnerable because we were asleep,” I answered. “Our minds were open to possibilities our conscious brains wouldn’t allow or accept. Had we been awake, she wouldn’t have been able to bring us in. She pulled us in because we were … well … malleable. That’s the only way I can think to describe it.”

  “Are we stuck here?” Landon looked worried at the prospect. For some reason he was more comfortable with the idea of time travel than being stuck in a dream world where Aunt Tillie had all the power.

  “My guess is no,” I said. “I think … I think when we wake up back in the hospital room we’ll jerk ourselves out of this place. Mom could wake us up or something.”

  “Well, that’s good, right?” Landon’s expression shifted from concerned to relieved. “We only have to hold on until someone wakes us.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it,” I said.

  “Oh, I’m going to hate this,” Landon grumbled. “What’s the other way of looking at it?”

  “Caroline and Ginger both told me that I couldn’t let her stay here,” I said. “They were adamant. Who do you think they were talking about?”

  “Aunt Tillie,” Landon surmised, exhaling heavily. “They’re worried she’s going to choose to stay in her happy memories instead of going home with us.”

  “I think so.”

  “Bay, I think you’re worrying for nothing,” Landon said. “Aunt Tillie is a fighter. She might love these memories, but she loves you guys, too. She doesn’t want to leave you. She told me she’s going to live until she’s a hundred and fifty years old. She claims she’s middle-aged.”

  “I know that,” I said. “She might not understand what’s happening, though. If she’s in pain, maybe she’d rather stay here than deal with the pain. We have to find her.”

  “Do we find young Tillie or old Tillie?” Landon asked. “I haven’t seen old Tillie, and young Tillie doesn’t appear to recognize us.”

  “Both of them are here,” I said. “One of them is hiding, though. She’s the one we need to find.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It’s just a feeling,” I admitted. “If I’m right, though, we have nothing to lose. We’ll eventually wake on our own. We have to find Aunt Tillie before that happens. If we don’t … .”

  “Then she might inadvertently choose to stay here,” Landon finished. “I get it. So, where do we look?”

  “It’s a wedding,” I said, smiling. “We look outside. Aunt Tillie and Calvin got married in the back yard. It was supposedly magical.”

  “You have a goofy look on your face again,” Landon said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re enjoying this.”

  “Just because we’re stuck here doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time.”

  “Fine,” Landon said, giving in. “Let’s go to a wedding.”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” I said, giggling. It took me a moment to realize my words could have another meaning, and my cheeks burned when Landon’s thoughtful gaze landed on me. “I didn’t mean … .”

  Landon cut me off. “Let’s go to a wedding,” he said. “This is part of your family history. You should enjoy it.”

  He was giving me a way out, and I was grateful. Of course, the insecure part of me didn’t want to acknowledge that I was worried wedding talk would cause him to run in the other direction. I decided to change the subject. “Just for the record, I wouldn’t refer to ‘old Tillie’ again when we’re stuck in Aunt Tillie’s head,” I offered. “She won’t like that.”

  “Great. Something else to worry about.”

  I slipped my hand into his as we headed toward the door. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “Wait … can she read my mind because it’s trapped in her mind?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Crap,” Landon muttered. “Now she’s going to know how often I think about … you know.”

  “Oh, honey, that secret isn’t nearly as safe as you seem to think it is.”

  Landon reached over and tickled my ribs as I tried to escape. “You’re too cute for words sometimes.”

  “Thank you,” I gasped, trying to evade his fingers.

  “I didn’t say you were being cute now,” Landon cautioned, “just sometimes.”

  “You know how I make you tired?”

  Landon nodded.

  “Sometimes you make me tired.”

  “That’s why we work, sweetie,” Landon said. “Come on. I’m dying to see how a Winchester wedding works. I think it’s going to be … illuminating.”

  Wait … what did he mean by that?

  “STAY over here,” Landon ordered five minutes later, grabbing my arm and pulling me under the eaves of the house so we could go more easily unnoticed.

  “Why?” I was annoyed. I wanted to meet as many relatives as possible. By the time I was born, most of them were gone. “It will be fun.”

  “I’m still not convinced we’re in Aunt Tillie’s head,” Landon answered, although he looked to the sky, which made me internally smirk. “If we are, though, I’ve always thought she was the wisest witch in
the land.”

  “I love that you pander to an audience even now.”

  Landon frowned. “If we are time traveling and what you said about not changing things is true … I don’t want to risk not meeting you. I want to wake up with you on my lap in that hospital chair.”

  My heart flopped at the admission. “That was sweet.”

  “That’s the truth,” Landon said. “I can’t imagine not knowing you. It would kill me.”

  “You wouldn’t even know,” I pointed out, although tears pricked my eyes at the thought. “Neither of us would.”

  “Do you want to risk that?”

  “We’re not time traveling,” I argued, although I hung back and shifted a little closer to Landon. “I don’t want to risk it, though.”

  “Good,” Landon said. “We’re here to observe and find Aunt Tillie. If you’re right, the old … I mean our … Aunt Tillie is somewhere close. She’s watching, too.”

  “Where do you think she is?” I asked, scanning the crowd. “Oh, look. There’s Calvin in his tuxedo. He’s so handsome.”

  “He looks … dapper,” Landon said.

  I shot him a dubious look. “Dapper?”

  “Sweetie, men don’t call other men handsome,” Landon replied. “It’s just not done.”

  “Fine, prude,” I said. “He does look handsome, though. I can’t wait to see Aunt Tillie in her dress.”

  “That’ll be something,” Landon conceded. “Old Aunt Tillie – I mean young and spry Aunt Tillie who doesn’t look a day over thirty – will want to see herself in that dress. Keep your eyes open.”

  “Yes, sir.” I ignored Landon’s pointed eye roll and turned back to the assembled guests. “There’s Great-Grandmother Caroline,” I said, inclining my chin across the way. “She looks happy.”

  “She probably just killed someone,” Landon offered.

  “You’re a grump,” I said. “This is a wedding. It’s a happy occasion.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Landon studied me for a moment. “Do you … ?”

  The sound of someone squealing cut him off, and part of me was dying to know what he was about to ask. Of course, the other part was terrified it would have been something like, “Do you really think I would marry you after you got me caught in a fairy tale book and a crazy woman’s head.” I opted to let it go and focus on Willa as she interacted with guests.

  She was dressed up, her bridesmaid dress pressed and smooth. Her hair was pulled back, and she seemed desperate to be the center of attention. She talked to one of the ushers, repeatedly putting her hand on his arm. When he refused to show her proper interest, she shifted her eyes to Calvin.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “What?” Landon asked, slipping his arm around my waist. “What horror is about to befall us now?”

  “Aunt Willa is going after Calvin,” I said, shaking my head as I watched Willa approach. “Is she going to hit on him right before his wedding?”

  “Where is Tillie?” Landon asked, scanning the crowd. “There’s no way she would put up with this.”

  “She’s getting dressed,” I said. “We heard her heading toward her bedroom when we snuck out. That’s probably a good thing, because she would’ve cursed us to within an inch of our lives if she caught us.”

  “If she’s inside and this is really a memory, how are we seeing it?” Landon challenged.

  He had a point. Crap! I hate it when he does that. “I … .” Was I wrong? I caught sight of Aunt Tillie a split-second before Landon did, exhaling heavily when I saw her peeking from the open bedroom window about five feet from us. “She’s watching from inside.”

  “Fine,” Landon conceded. “She’s watching. Your theory is still in play.”

  “My theory is right,” I said, narrowing my eyes when I saw Willa put her hand on Calvin’s chest. To my surprise, Calvin firmly removed Willa’s hand and leaned down to whisper something to her. Whatever it was, Willa didn’t like it. She said something back and then turned on her heel and stalked away. When I glanced at Tillie again, she was smiling. “That’s what she needed to see. She wanted to make sure Calvin wouldn’t betray her. She already knew it in her heart, but now she knows it in her head, too.”

  “Do you worry about things like that, Bay?” Landon asked, his question taking me by surprise.

  “Like what?” I feigned ignorance. I knew exactly what he was talking about.

  “Don’t do that,” Landon said, wagging a finger in my face. “I’m asking a serious question. Do you think I would betray you?”

  I answered honestly. “No. I’m terrified I’ll somehow lose you all the same, though.”

  “Because of the witch stuff?”

  I shrugged, unsure how to answer. “Maybe.”

  “We’ve been over this, Bay,” Landon said, his tone calm and even. “I won’t leave. I don’t want to leave.”

  “But … we’re stuck in Aunt Tillie’s mind,” I argued. “That can’t make you happy.”

  “We might be time traveling,” Landon countered. “I haven’t given up on that yet.”

  “Even if we are, that’s still because of my family,” I said. “Are you willing to put up with that … forever?” I almost choked on the word.

  Landon was unruffled. “Yes.”

  I swallowed hard. “Really?”

  “Bay, I’m not going anywhere,” Landon said. “I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. I screwed up when I left. When I knew you were a witch and you refused to tell me everything, I reacted badly because I didn’t know what else to do. I’m over that now. I’m not leaving. I need you to believe that. When you do, then we’ll start talking about all of this.”

  I knit my eyebrows. “All of what? The magic?”

  “I don’t care about that either,” Landon said. “I mean all of this.” He gestured at the gathering. “When you believe in me and know in your heart I’m not going anywhere, then we’ll talk about weddings. Until then, I’m happy with how things are.”

  “I … .” Holy crap!

  “That’s what I thought,” Landon said, smirking as he dropped a quick kiss on my mouth. “Now watch your wedding,” he said. “We might have traveled through a crazy woman’s mind to get here. I want you to enjoy it.”

  “You probably shouldn’t call her crazy.” That was probably the wrong thing to say given his admission, but I was at a loss.

  “Oh, I’m over that,” Landon said. “If we tick her off, maybe she’ll wake up out of spite.”

  “Huh. Well, stranger things have happened.”

  “Like watching a wedding that occurred twenty-five years before you were born?”

  I nodded. “Like that,” I said, resting my head against his shoulder. “Let’s watch it.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

  For some reason, I believed him.

  * * *

  I don’t like kids. They’re only good for slave labor, kicking when I’m in a bad mood and setting on my enemies when someone ticks me off . Do you want to tick me off? If you do, all six of the girls I raised have deviant minds. You should see what they can come up with when pushed in the right direction.

  – Aunt Tillie to a guest when asked why she never had children of her own

  Six

  T he wedding was barely over before Landon and I shifted to a new memory. He gripped my hand, refusing to let go, and sighed when we landed hard enough to jolt both of us.

  “I’m going to be in real pain when this is all over,” I muttered, rubbing my tailbone. “Seriously! Couldn’t she pick softer spots for us to land?”

  Landon shrugged, but didn’t look any happier with the situation than I was. “She plopped us on a bed last time.”

  “Her bed.”

  “Yes, and I’m going to have nightmares forever,” Landon said, rolling to his knees and struggling to a standing position. “You know, if we’re really in Aunt Tillie’s head this stuff shouldn’t hurt. That’s why I think we’re time traveling.”

 
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Have you seen the time travel episodes of Star Trek?” Landon challenged. “They’re the best episodes, especially that Star Trek: The Next Generation one with the monsters in the cave and Picard meeting Guinan for the second time, which is really the first time.”

  I was horrified. I opened my mouth, but no sound would come out.

  “What?” Landon asked, glancing around. “Do I have something on my face?”

  “Are you a Trekkie?”

  Landon scowled. “Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about? We’re either traveling through time or stuck in a woman’s mind and you’re worried about my television habits?” He reached for my hand and helped me up. “I’m disappointed, Bay.”

  “That wasn’t an answer,” I pressed. “Are you a Trekkie? And, if so, how have you managed to hide this from me for so long?”

  Landon shrugged. “I have to watch something when we’re apart,” he said, completely unbothered by his admission. “Star Trek is fun, and it has hot chicks in little outfits. Sue me.”

  “Oh, this is terrible,” I said, rubbing my neck. “Do you like … go to conventions and stuff?”

  Landon made a face. “If you don’t stop that, I’m going to make you watch episodes with me and reenact them as part of a game.”

  “What kind of game? Do Trekkies play weird games?”

  “Not that kind of a game,” Landon snapped. “One of the other games we play. You know the ones I’m talking about.”

  “You can say the word ‘sex.’ You know that, right?”

  “Shh.” Landon slapped his hand over my mouth. “If you’re right, Aunt Tillie is listening. I’m trying to talk in code.”

  I jerked my head away. “Good job, Mr. Spock,” I said, awkwardly trying to turn my fingers into the odd salute I’d seen on television. What? Aunt Tillie is a Trekkie, too. I’ve seen a few episodes. That doesn’t make me a hypocrite. Seriously, it doesn’t! “Aunt Tillie will never break your genius code.”

  “You’re not longer my favorite person in the world,” Landon said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You wound me with your derision.”

  I faltered. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s a … fine … lifestyle. We’ll just keep it a secret, like we do the witch thing. It will be fine, Mr. Spock.”