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[A Wicked Witches of the Midwest 10.9] How Aunt Tillie Stole Christmas

Page 10

by Amanda M. Lee

Carl looked so happy I thought he might burst into tears. He held himself together, though, and exchanged a hug with each of his nephews. “I almost didn’t make it. A little elf tracked me down and told me where you were. She also invited me to dinner.”

  David glanced over his shoulder, our eyes meeting. “Are you the elf?”

  “I’m pretty sure I should be insulted that you think I’m an elf,” I countered. “I’m short, but I’m not that short.”

  “That’s a myth,” Bay interjected. “Elves are tall, like Legolas in Lord of the Rings. Dwarves are short.”

  “Thank you, Miss Know-It-All,” I grumbled.

  “Come here, Bay.” Terry motioned toward the pouting girl and skewered me with a dark look. “Do you have to be mean to her?”

  I rolled my eyes as Terry offered Bay a soothing hug and then focused on Carl and the boys. “I think some introductions are in order.” It took me a few minutes to sort out the Winchester family tree for Carl, but he was interested and couldn’t stop smiling.

  We’d talked on the phone early this morning. He’d called the minute Judge West’s office notified him about the paperwork going through. He’d cried so hard I thought I would drown over the phone. Even though I’m uncomfortable with overt displays like that, I couldn’t help being touched … and happy.

  We agreed he’d be the one to tell the boys, and I was almost as excited as him to see their reaction.

  “Come in.” Winnie couldn’t disguise her smile as she ushered Carl into the living room. “Dinner is still a few hours off, but we’re happy you came early. I’m sure you have a lot to discuss with the boys.”

  “I definitely do.” Carl was enthusiastic as he sat on the couch, grinning as the boys flanked him. David seemed to be the only one who sensed there was something in the air.

  “What’s going on?” David asked after a beat.

  “What makes you think anything is going on?” I challenged.

  “Because you all keep looking at each other as if you know a secret,” David replied. “Mr. Terry came by and said you were in trouble, but backed off when he found out you’d been at the judge’s house. What’s going on?”

  “Have you considered that Terry is simply an alarmist?”

  David looked to Terry, uncertain. “No. He’s been really nice to us.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s not an alarmist.”

  “I’m not an alarmist,” Terry clarified. “I did have cause to worry, but now I’m starting to think that maybe Tillie knows exactly what she’s doing.”

  “I’ve told you a million times that I always know what I’m doing.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d rather hear it from Carl than you,” Terry said, smoothing Bay’s hair. “We’ll discuss the tree incident later.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I crossed my arms over my chest and sent a reassuring look to Carl. “Tell them.”

  “Tell us what?” Michael asked, shifting. “Are they going to separate us again?”

  “No.” Carl firmly shook his head. “They’re not going to separate you ever again.”

  “Are they taking us to a new home?” Andrew asked, his eyes downcast.

  “Technically yes, but it’s not what you guys think,” Carl replied. “You’re coming to my home.”

  “We are?” After being jerked around so many times, Andrew was understandably confused. “How long do we get to stay? Is it just for Christmas?”

  “It’s for good,” Carl replied, swallowing as he fought to maintain control of his emotions. He was near tears. “You should know that Tillie worked really hard and managed to get all of the paperwork in order. You boys are officially coming to live with me. For good.”

  Andrew burst into tears, and Carl gave him a warm hug while David turned incredulous eyes to me.

  “Is that why you were at the judge’s house?” David asked.

  I nodded. “We had a few things to discuss. It turns out that he saw things my way. I barely had to bring out the big guns.”

  “What are the big guns?”

  Bay, Clove and Thistle raised their hands in unison.

  “I didn’t even have to cry,” Clove said. “I was ready and everything.”

  “And I was barely mean,” Thistle added. “I had a lot more stuff stored up in case it was necessary.”

  “But … is this for real?” David was on the verge of crying. I knew he didn’t want to do it in front of everyone, but in some ways I thought it would be cathartic.

  “It’s for real,” Carl confirmed.

  “But … what about Dad?” David wasn’t quite ready to let it go. “I thought he had to agree to it.”

  “Well, I’m still not sure how she did it, but Tillie managed to get him to sign the papers,” Carl said, his eyes twinkling. “I got him on the phone just to make sure, and he was ranting and raving about some … ghost or something … but he signed the papers. I think your dad might’ve been dreaming.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that was it.” Terry’s gaze was weighted when it landed on me. “It seems you’ve been busy. How did you manage all of this?”

  “I had a little help.” I grinned at Bay.

  “So … we’re going to your house right now?” Michael asked, bewildered.

  “First we’re going to have dinner here,” Carl answered. “The Winchesters got some gifts for you, and we thought a big meal with all of us would be nice. Then you’re going home with me.”

  “I can’t believe it!” David let loose a huge sigh, his chest deflating and his shoulders visibly relaxing. “You did this for us?”

  I nodded. “I think you deserve it.”

  “You’re Santa,” Andrew said, jumping up from the couch and taking me by surprise with a vehement hug. “You’re the best Santa ever!”

  I awkwardly patted his back. “I’m better than Santa.”

  “You definitely are.” Tears swam through Andrew’s eyes. “And to think we didn’t want to come here.”

  “We just thought it would be boring,” David said hurriedly by way of apology. “We were wrong.”

  “You were wrong about being bored, too,” I said, grinning as I fought my own tears. “So, we have a few hours. What should we do with the time?”

  “What do you want to do?” Michael asked, wary.

  “Well, remember when I was talking to you guys about yellow snow?”

  Michael nodded.

  “I thought we’d play a little game with Margaret Little,” I explained.

  “What kind of game?”

  “I believe it’s called ‘I Win, She Loses’ and it’s the best game in the world.” I clapped my hands to get everyone’s attention. “Girls, get your coats. Boys, you do the same. I’m taking you for a quick outing.”

  I risked a glance at Terry and found him frowning.

  “What?” I challenged. “It’s Christmas. You have to get in the holiday spirit.”

  “I didn’t hear a thing,” Terry said, throwing himself in the chair at the edge of the room. “Someone pass the bourbon, please.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from poking him one more time. “Merry Christmas, Terry.”

  Terry was blasé. “You do not exist.”

  “That’s good,” Thistle said. “You can’t arrest her if she’s invisible.”

  “Just go, Thistle.” Terry rubbed his forehead. “I’m pretending you don’t exist, too.”

  Instead of pushing him further, Thistle took everyone by surprise when she kissed his cheek.

  “Merry Christmas,” she whispered.

  Terry shook his head. “You’re going to make some man really miserable.”

  Thistle beamed. “That’s what I live for.”

  And, surprisingly, all was right with our little corner of the world. We even had a forecast predicting yellow snow to prove it.

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  About the Author

  I want t
o thank everyone who takes the time to read my novels. I have a particular brand of humor that isn’t for everyone – and I know that.

  If you liked the book, please take a few minutes and leave a review. An independent author does it all on their own, and the reviews are helpful. I understand that my characters aren’t for everyone, though. There’s a lot of snark and sarcasm in my world – and I know some people don’t like that.

  Special thanks go out to Heidi Bitsoli and Phil VanHulle for correcting the (numerous) errors that creep into a work of fiction.

  If you’re interested in my future works, follow me on Facebook, Twitter or join my mailing list. I do not believe in spam. I only announce new releases or free promotions.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  For more information:

  author@amandamlee.net

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

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  Who, What, Where, When, Die

  If it Bleeds, it Leads

  Buried Leads

  Shot Off The Presses

  The Preditorial Page

  Misquoted & Demoted

  Headlines & Deadlines

  Misprints & Mistakes

  Bylines & Skylines

  Off the Record

  Unwritten & Underwater

  A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery

  Any Witch Way You Can

  Every Witch Way But Wicked

  Witching You Were Here

  Witching on a Star

  Something to Witch About

  Witch Me Luck

  Life’s a Witch

  Charms & Witchdemeanors

  The Trouble With Witches

  Murder Most Witchy

  A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short

  Careful What You Witch For

  Wicked Brew

  On a Witch and a Prayer

  You Only Witch Once

  The Christmas Witch

  Bewitched

  A Solstice Celebration

  Witchdependence Day

  Happy Witchgiving

  Merry Witchmas

  Four-Leaf Clover

  Thistle While You Work

  Landon Calling

  I Dream of Twila

  How Aunt Tillie Stole Christmas

  A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy

  Witchy Tales

  A Witch In Time

  Make A Witch

  A Witchmas Carol

  An Aisling Grimlock Mystery

  Grim Tidings

  Grim Offerings

  Grim Discovery

  Grim Reunion

  Grim Expectations

  Grim Holiday

  Covenant College

  Awakening

  Whispering

  Conjuring

  Waxing & Waning

  Graduating

  Living Covenant Trilogy

  Rising Covenant

  Dark Covenant

  Eternal Covenant

  Dying Covenant Trilogy

  Haunted Covenant

  Desperate Covenant

  Everlasting Covenant

  A Mystic Caravan Mystery

  Freaky Days

  Freaky Lies

  Freaky Hearts

  Freaky Games

  A Charlie Rhodes Cozy Mystery

  The Bigfoot Blunder

 

 

 


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