Cursed on the Second Date

by Daphne DeWitt

  “Well then what’s with the spring cleaning?” Agnes asked. Abigail looked on angrily. I could tell she wanted the voice back pretty quickly.

  “Aunt Tilly isn’t coming alone. She’s brought a guest a...special guest,” Grandma Misty said.

  “Is it like Channing Tatum or something?” I asked. I was joking, but still hopeful. One wink from him and Christopher would find himself one sister short of a gala date, I could tell you that much.

  “Is that Bobby’ boy? The one who works at the grocery?” Grandma Misty asked. She shook her head hard. “In any event, Aunt Tilly has made a very important decision. She’s- well, she’s getting married, and I’d rather keep Aunt Tilly’s fiancé from discovering that we’re witches,” she said, walking up the front steps slowly and carefully and then inside of the house.

  I knew that my mind had to be playing tricks on me because there was no way she had just said Aunt Tilly had a fiancé.

  “I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I think my ears need cleaning out, because it sounded liked you said fiancé,” I said, looking over at an equally shocked (but silent) Abigail.

  “No, your hearing is perfectly fine, though your etiquette could use some work. I said fiancé. Your Aunt Tilly is a grown woman, and she can make her own decisions, even if that decision involves agreeing to spend the rest of your life with a man you haven’t even seen fit to introduce to your mother yet,” Grandma Misty said, and I could hear the hurt in her voice. “Now, come on we have to de-witch the house. They will be arriving tonight,” she said, tossing me a yellow bucket.

  “What do you want me to do with this?” I asked, looking inside of the bucket for any clues as to what she wanted me to do, and hoping my instinct was incorrect. I really didn’t feel like mopping the floor.

  “Round up all the floating candles and put them in there,” she told me.

  “I just rounded up the floating candles last week,” I complained.

  “Then you must have forgotten to lock the case because they got out. Crazy things are all over the attic.”

  “Fine,” I complained.

  Snapping her fingers, another bright yellow bucket appear. Grandma Misty gave it a light push through the air toward my silent sister. “Abigail, this bucket is for you put all of the elixirs and powders in the smaller bottles in.”

  The bucket she handed to my very confused sister wasn’t big enough to hold half of the small bottles of elixirs. Abigail gave me a helpless look, obviously asking me to voice her concerns given she couldn’t do it herself right now.

  “Grandma Misty, it’s going to take something bigger than that bucket to hold all of the small bottles. Something like a dump truck,” I told her, holding up the bucket so she could see that it was not very deep inside.

  “Then I’ll bring us one,” she said, her eyes starting to go a little crazy indicating that a panic attack was on the horizon.

  Placing my hand on her shoulder, I sent calming vibes through her body. “We’re witches, remember? So, that means we can magically hide everything. Like it’s behind some sort of curtain that only we know is there,” I said, waving my hands in front of her like I was a magician attempting a trick.

  “That’s a great idea! Let’s all split up and magically hide everything in the house,” she said, sounding a lot like Fred from Scooby Doo.

  “Do you need my help as well? Because, if not, there’s a new Hallmark movie premiering, and I’d really like to see it,” she said, smiling sweetly at Grandma Misty.

  She wasn’t having it.

  “No time for movies, Agnes. Everyone has to pitch in,” Grandma Misty said, walking in the direction of her library.

  “But, it’s the one about the country music star coming back to his hometown and falling in love with his old high school flame.”

  “They’re all about that,” I muttered.

  Agnes shot me a look, but then turned her attention back to our grandmother. “I’ve been waiting months on it. If Aunt Tilly’s fiancé sees anything remotely witchy, we can just tell him that Abigail is going through a phase. We’ll even show him her black lipstick and old VHS copy of The Craft,” Agnes said, her lip quivering.

  “You need to get out of the house more, Honey. Maybe go on a date with that Dale boy. You know, the one who always circles by the house in his squad car and pretends he’s on patrol,” Grandma Misty said before slamming the door of her library.

  Agnes marched out of the back door with Abigail trailing behind her.

  “Maybe he is on patrol,” Agnes said, shrugging.

  “He’s definitely not on patrol,” I answered, smirking alongside Abigail.

  “I can’t believe Aunt Tilly is engaged. I wonder how he proposed. I bet it was really romantic,” Sadie said, walking into the room and smiling from ear to ear.

  As usual, our youngest sister looked perfect. Her hair had fallen naturally this morning, her clothes looked just right, and there was an effortless air about the way she moved that made the sheer grace of it infuriating.

  “Proposals usually are, Sadie,” I told her, blowing a decidedly imperfect strand of hair out of my face. “But how perfect could it have been? I mean, if we’re actively trying to hide a huge part of ourselves from the guy, could he really care about Aunt Tilly that much?”

  Abigail stomped her foot at me, and I knew it was meant to remind me of the conversation we’d had earlier.

  “I know I told you we couldn’t go blabbing about our secret all over town, but there’s a big difference between sharing something intensely private with everyone you know and telling the truth about yourself to the man you’re going to marry.”

  “You’d know, right?” Agnes added sheepishly. “Isn’t that what happened back in New York with-?”

  A flash of my former husband to be flashed in my head. I had been so happy with him, so ridiculously happy. I should have known it would end. I wasn’t allowed to be happy, and I certainly wasn’t allowed to the sort of blaringly bright happy that I was up in the Big Apple.

  Honestly, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he came to me and said it was over, that he needed his space to figure out who he wanted to be ‘as a person’.

  As opposed to what? An ottoman?

  “You know what!” I said loudly, holding a hand up to stop her and thinking about my ex-fiance and the night in New York when all of it ended. “Maybe Abigail was right. Maybe you should give her the voice back.”

  Abigail beamed beside me, and as if on cue, we all went to work.

  Forty-five minutes later, we were all done. The house showed no signs of magic, well, except for the coven of witches living in it. After all that work, we were beat. Sadie and I were sprawled across the couch. Agnes was either asleep or dead on the chair by the fireplace and Abigail was laying on the floor. Magic took it out of you and magically hiding magic was even more draining than that. After this display, we all needed long baths and date nights with our Kindles.

  “You girls are lazier than pet coons,” Grandma Misty said, laughing at us as she walked into the foyer. “Malady, you might want to pep up because you have a guest at the door.”

  I wasn’t expecting anyone. Getting up, I didn’t bother with checking my minimal makeup or my hair because I was just too tired. If someone was going to drop in on me without so much as a phone call in warning, then they got what they got. Today, what they got was one tired witch. Dragging my feet to the front door, I walked right into something or rather someone. “Watch where you’re going Suzie Q,” a familiar voice said, causing me to look up.

  Daniel Price was smirking down and me. Suddenly, it became very clear to me that I looked like roadkill. I shouldn’t have cared, but I did. Maybe it was the dream that made me begin to see Daniel in a different light. He seemed less annoying to me, but I would never let him know that of course. Dream or not, I had more pride than that. Besides, the dream I had about Daniel somehow helping me break away from my curse might not have even been real. My mother had the sight.
She could see clear into the future and always warned me about how tricky it was.

  Me though, I was never very good at it. So it didn’t make sense that I’d start gleaming fate’s plan at this stage in my life. No, that was probably just a dream, brought on by late night Chinese food and the strain of solving Alison’s murder.

  It was nothing more, and I certainly wasn’t going to change the way I acted around this blowhard because of nothing. “What do you want, Daniel?” I asked, attempting to blow a strand stray strand of hair out of my eyes, but having absolutely zero luck.

  I decided to just let it stay there and pretend that was what I was going for.

  “That’s not a good look for you,” he said, tucking the strand behind my ear.

  I shivered a little, a bit of heat rushing through me as his fingers grazed the soft skin behind my ear. “Maybe I wasn’t going for a good look. Did you ever think of that?”

  “I didn’t,” he said, smiling back at me. “Though, if that’s the case, I think congratulations are in order because you did a bang up job.” “

  “Did you need something?” I huffed, forcing myself not to get lost in his eyes.

  “I need a lot of things, Suzie Q but I’m here for something very specific. I wanted to know if you wanted to attend the charity ball with me.”

  “Really?” I asked, my heart skipping another stupid beat. I looked at the floor, conscious that I was biting my lip. I tried to hold my reaction down. It was just a dance and it didn’t matter anyway. I couldn’t go with him, just like I couldn’t go with him on a candlelit dinner or on a long walk on the beach. I was cursed, and putting myself in those lovey dovey situations, even with someone as infuriating as Daniel, was like squeezing a lemon over an open wound. It just wasn’t smart.

  “You seem surprised,” he said, his eyes burning into me.

  “I am,” I answered honestly. “I didn’t think that we-”

  “I need to get to know people around town,” he answered quickly, cutting me off. “I’m going to be staying here, and I thought it would be pertinent for them to get used to seeing us together.”

  “Together?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

  “Yes,” he stammered. “You know, as business partners, of course,” he said, scratching the back of his head.

  “Of course,” I said, but a weird anger flashed inside of me. I shook my head. “You’re too late, Atlanta. I’m already going with someone,” I said, making it seem like I already had a hot date.

  “Oh, is it Mason? I should have figured he had already asked you when I saw him trying on suits at the mall,” he said. I scanned his expression for a little jealousy, but couldn’t find any.

  “Suits at the mall?” I muttered. The mall was miles away. You had to circle half the mountain to get to it. If he drove all the way there, it was for a reason. And that reason certainly wasn’t me.

  Still, a part of me wanted him to think I was going with Mason, but the other part of me couldn’t do it. I had to be honest. It was one of the downsides of being a good witch. I decided to keep mean Malady at bay and let out my sweet side.

  “I’m not going with Mason. I’m going with Christopher,” I said really fast.

  “Did you say Christopher? As in your brother Christopher?” he asked, biting his lip to hold back his laughter.

  “Yes,” I said, looking down at his shiny black shoes, and hoping I might somehow shrink down to a size where I wouldn’t have to have this conversation.

  “As in your little brother Christopher?”

  “Yes!” I answered loudly.

  “You would rather go with your own brother than with me?” He asked, and I thought I saw real hurt flash through his eyes. I blinked, surprised at that reaction.

  “I would rather go with someone who actually wanted to go with me and didn’t want to use me for networking opportunities.” I sneered.

  “That’s not the only reason I wanted to go with you,” he answered.

  “Is that right?” I asked, but I kept my guard up. No way was Daniel Price getting me twice. “What, pray tell, are the other reasons?”

  He leaned in closer. I felt his breath on my cheek.

  “To get under your skin, of course.”

  Agitation pulsated through me, but I pushed it down.

  “Have fun at the event, Daniel,” I muttered, and pushed him toward the door.

  “See you there, Suzie Q,” he said, and I could hear the grin in his voice.

  Not if I can help it.

  I should have let the mean Malady out. I liked her better around Daniel Price.

  2

  After practically pushing a very amused Daniel out of the door Aunt Tilly drove up in a very old sky blue beat up pickup truck.

  We all stood in the living room as we waited for the happy couple to make their grand entrance. Grandma Misty took a peek through the blinds to see if they had made it out of the truck yet.

  I stood curiously, wondering just who the man was who had finally convinced my Aunt Tilly to settle down. She was such a force of nature; a world traveler who had stories for every occasion. We all used to sit as kids, cross-legged and entranced, whenever she’d come to visit. I remembered very vividly thinking about how grand her life must have been. She had been all over the globe, well-traveled even for a witch. Meanwhile, I had never been outside of Cat’s Cradle’s town limits.

  My heart sped up, and my critical eye went into overdrive. Whoever this man was, he’d better be a showstopper. Nothing else would do for my Aunt Tilly.

  “Oh, here they come. Everyone act normal,” Grandma Misty said, sitting down on a couch and crossing her ankles. She had a ridiculous floral print floor length dress and a strand of pearls. Ridiculously overdressed, she was two dainty white gloves and a tray of cucumber sandwiches away from landing a guest role on Downton Abbey. I wanted to tell her she wasn’t being normal so how could we, but I didn’t bother.

  We all shot her looks, and she seemed to get the message. She sighed “Fine, just try to be as normal as possible. No magic,” she said, giving us one final warning with her ‘pineapple turning’ finger as the front door swung open.

  “Did you miss me?” Aunt Tilly asked, walking into the living room and throwing her arms out for a huge group hug like we used to give her when we were children.

  We all rushed the short woman. It had been years since I’d seen her, and I couldn’t help but notice the changes time had inflicted upon her as I neared. Her face was a little rounder, her red hair had some gray spots in it, and eyes had crow’s feet for days. Still, she basically looked like I remembered. She looked like my mother.

  We collided with her, all except Christopher. Last I checked, he was flittering around the park as a blue jay, saving his one hour of mortal time for a dinner planned later.

  I was the first to get to her, wrapping my arms around her as my sisters followed suit.

  A surge of pure joy ran through me and, very quickly, I bit my lip as hard as I could without breaking the skin. It definitely brought the mood down, which was good, given that the last thing any of us needed was for my ‘bad luck’ curse to kick in right now.

  “Very much, Aunt Tilly. Where is the better half?” I asked, looking at the door behind her waiting for him to walk in.

  “The Earl will be in here in just a few minutes. He’s out grabbing the luggage,” she said, squeezing us tightly. “That man just won’t let me do anything for myself.”

  The smell of her was familiar, like cinnamon and mischief, but her words struck a strange chord with me. Aunt Tilly had always been very independent. Not only did she not need anyone to do anything for her, she didn’t want it. The fact that she had fallen for a man who seemed to be satisfied to wait on her hand and foot struck me as strange.

  It was a different aspect of the guy that tickled Agnes’ curiosity.

  “I’m sorry, did you say the Earl?” Agnes asked, pulling away from Aunt Tilly’s embrace. “Like, he has the word ‘the’ in front of his
name?”

  Aunt Tilly’s eyes lit up, and her already bright smile got brighter somehow. “Yep, he’s from London,” she said, winking. There was pride in her voice that— up to this point— I had only ever heard reserved for her own accomplishments. Now she was using it for someone else... someone who had a ‘the’ in front of his name.

  “That’s- that’s great,” I said, pulling away from her myself.

  Aunt Tilly had landed herself English nobility. I certainly wasn’t expecting that. The door opened, and The Earl walked through, carrying at least seven bags across his burly shoulders. He didn’t look like an Earl with his pudgy belly and scruffy beard, but Aunt Tilly was looking at him like he was Leonardo DiCaprio circa Titanic.

  I guess that’s love.

  “The heat here is blistering, yeah?” The Earl asked in a lilted accent, letting all of the luggage fall on Grandma Misty’s coveted hardwood floor.

  I could practically feel her wince behind me.

  “It’s such an honor to meet a real Earl,” Sadie said, curtseying perfectly.

  The Earl eyed her like she was crazy, even going so far as to let out a loud bellowing chuckle. “You’ve never met anyone named Earl before?” he asked, scratching his beard, “I thought it was a very common name here in the States.”

  “Aunt Tilly, I thought you said he was an Earl,” I whispered even though Earl was standing right across from me.

  “I said he was The Earl because he’s the only Earl for me,” she said, smiling at her new beau. “Everyone, this is my handsome fiancé and new addition to the family, Earl Reeks.”

  His name was Reeks? Was she serious right now?

  Abigail threw herself back on the couch when she heard Earl’s last name. She did not approve and frankly neither did I.

  Of all the people I’d imagined my prize of an aunt might have ended up with, the Earl wasn’t one of them. Maybe if he was actual nobility, if she was the witch version of Grace Kelly or something, then I might have been able to understand. That wasn’t what was happening though. This man’s hair looked as though it hadn’t seen a brush in years. His beard looked unruly and shaggy, and I was pretty sure there was half a French fry stuck in there. His name may have been Earl, but there wasn’t anything even remotely royal about him.