A Witch In Time

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A Witch In Time Page 10

by Robyn Peterman


  “You mean Christina,” Chad reminded me politely much to the great satisfaction of Sassy the evil method actress.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant,” I ground out.

  “Waitwaitwait,” Chunk blustered in awe. “AreyoutheShifterWhisperer?”

  “Wanker. I prefer Shifter Wanker, and yes I am.”

  The little dudes communicated silently for a moment and then bowed their heads to me.

  “We are honored to be in your holy presence,” Chip said solemnly. “We are very sorry for even considering breaking your legs or harming you in any way.”

  “Holy is taking it a bit far,” Sassy snorted.

  Technically I agreed with Sassy, but I was the only one allowed to say it.

  “Christina I’d suggest you keep your petty jealousies to yourself or I’ll be compelled to remove the feet that are illegally wearing my combat boots.”

  “Roger that,” she replied with a grin and an eye roll.

  Back to the matter at hand.

  “Christina, are you on board with this plan?” I asked wanting to get a few hours of sleep before sun up.

  “Yes, but like I said the gray matter is sparse in a chipmunk. This could take a day or two,” Sassy said as she picked up the twisted ball of chipmunks and headed down the stairs.

  “The faster the better,” I said as I watched her gently take the little goobers away. “And don’t hurt them.”

  “I won’t Mommie,” she called over her shoulder. “I promise.”

  My life could not get any stranger.

  At least I hoped not.

  CHAPTER 12

  “They’re in your basement?” Mac growled as he paced my kitchen in agitation.

  I nodded and yawned. It was eight AM and I’d barely gotten any sleep. My house was full of people and all I wanted to do was curl up in a chair and take a quick nap. Of course I’d dressed with care to offset the baggage I was carrying under my eyes. I wore a wildly colorful Betsy Johnson fitted maxi dress with my pink combat boots that I’d stolen back from Sassy. Lookin’ good and feeling crappy.

  My dad, Roger, Fat Bastard, Jango Fett, Boba Fett and Jeeves sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and eating the coffee cakes Fabio had very thoughtfully baked. I’d eaten an entire cake before everyone arrived so I was full for at least the next hour.

  “You didn’t detect the chipmunks?” Fabio snapped at Mac as his fingers sparked with displeasure. “They could have killed my daughter and it would have been your fault.”

  “Whoa,” I shouted as Mac lunged at Fabio. “First off, I can defend myself. And Mac did know they were in the area. It’s why he was patrolling with the Pack. The chipmunks took the highway,” I explained as I separated the two hot heads.

  “Ain’t no highway in Assjacket,” Fat Bastard informed everyone as he hid some cake in the silverware drawer for later.

  “The treetops,” Mac said, impressed. “I didn’t think the chipmunks were smart enough to try something like that.”

  “They’re not smart and they’re lousy poker players. I’m sorry I lost my temper,” Fabio told Mac as he removed the cake from drawer and smacked Fat Bastard in the head. “I’m a little hung over after my father-daughter bonding with Zelda last night.”

  “Apology accepted,” Mac said as he scooped me up off my chair and settled me firmly on his lap. “I’d die before I let anything happen to Zelda.”

  “No one is going to die for me or anyone else,” I snapped, avoiding the fact that Mac had just made a statement that no one had ever made about me in my life. It was as scary as it was sexy. “The chipmunks seem harmless and I’m sure there’s someone else behind it. They were afraid to tell me so I sent Sassy to the basement with them to pick it out of their brains.”

  “Sweet Goddess in an outfit from Walmart,” Fabio gasped out. “Is that safe?”

  “For who?” Fat Bastard grunted as Jango Fett and Boba Fett joined him in laughter.

  “I’m going down there to protect my woman,” Jeeves announced. “Fabio, I’d like the recipe for this cake. It’s outstanding. Did you use buttermilk?”

  “Yes! How perceptive of you.” My dad beamed. He was quite pleased that the finest chef he’d ever come across liked his cooking. “You should try my scones. To die for.”

  “I’d enjoy that,” Jeeves said as he picked up the baby blue tux jacket that he’d paired with stonewashed jeans, flip flops and a wife beater.

  His look was so wrong it was almost right.

  “We’ll join ya,” Boba said as he grabbed the two remaining coffee cakes from the table and balanced them on his head as he waddled toward the basement. “Sassy works better with an audience.”

  “Tell me about it,” Jeeves said with a huge grin and an enormous blush.

  All movement in the room ceased and I was sure I heard a few covert gags. The food in my stomach roiled and it was all I could do to keep it down.

  “Ahhh, Jeeves,” Mac said as he pressed the bridge of his nose and amazingly held on to his composure. “Remember our discussion about TMI?”

  “Yes, Dad. I do,” Jeeves replied, clearly not following where Mac was going.

  “That son, was TMI.”

  “Ohhhh, I got ya,” Jeeves said with a second blush that eclipsed the first. “Sorry.”

  “No worries,” I replied in a strangled whisper and then remembered a piece of the puzzle I’d forgotten to share. “Oh and the chipmunks mentioned something about Ber who’s not a lesbian.”

  “Ber?” Fabio asked, puzzled. “I know of no Ber who’s not a lesbian.”

  “You know a Ber that is a lesbian?” Roger inquired.

  “No. Do you know Ber the lesbian?” Fabio questioned Roger.

  “Wait the hell a minute,” Jango grumbled with a shake of his furry head. “I thought Ber wasn’t a lesbian.”

  “You know Ber?” Mac asked trying to follow the conversation thread that was quickly careening toward hell.

  “Nope. I don’t know no Ber,” Jango said.

  “Maybe this Ber is a lesbian and the chipmunks outed his ass and are now running for their lives,” Fat Bastard suggested with a triumphant look on his face.

  “How can a man be a lesbian?” Jeeves added, further perplexing all the male idiots in the room.

  “Fine point,” Fabio pondered aloud with an appreciative nod for Jeeves’ intellect. “However, are we sure Ber the possible lesbian is a man at all?”

  “And what would Ber being a lesbian have anything to do with the chipmunks trying to kill Zelda to stop the show from being performed?” Mac asked with a disgusted shake of his head.

  “Do you think this is all because Zelda’s a lesbian?” Fat Bastard offered up while scratching his balls.

  “Zelda is not a lesbian,” Mac informed the room with a shit-eating grin on his face, much to my dad’s displeasure.

  “My bad,” Fat Bastard said. “Wishful thinking. Maybe Ber is a lesbian honey badger who’s come to off Zelda since she popped the shit out of about a hundred of them and there are no more lesbian honey badgers.”

  “It’s possible,” Jango said thoughtfully. “But Ber can’t be a honey badger lesbian if Zelda popped all the lesbian ones. You follow me?”

  Thankfully that nugget of stupidity silenced all of them as they tried to piece the fucked up puzzle they’d created into something that made sense.

  “Um, none of you should think—ever again. Your heads might explode and I can’t fix that,” I said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Ber is the mastermind and the lesbian part came out because I said thespian. I’m going with the assumption the Ber is a guy—a really bad guy if the little chipmunk dudes’ reaction to the mention of his name was anything to go by.”

  “I’m fairly sure I made the term thespian illegal,” Fabio reminded me. “It gets everyone in trouble.”

  “Especially Fat Bastard,” Jango volunteered as he ducked a right hook from the Bastard.

  “Let’s say we let Ber the not a lesbian subject drop
until we get Sassy’s information,” I suggested as I gently pushed the cats and Jeeves toward the door to the basement. “Boba, you will share those coffee cakes with Sassy and the chipmunks. Do you understand me?”

  “I hear ya,” he groused. “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it because I’m turnin’ over a new leak too.”

  “Leaf,” I corrected him.

  “I am,” he insisted.

  “You’re what?” Damn I really needed to go back to bed. These assbuckets were confusing me more than usual.

  “I’m leafin’ the damn kitchen and I promise to share the effing cakes,” he huffed indignantly.

  “Mmmkay,” I said as I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at my cat. “Works for me.”

  The kitchen was clearing out and I was glad. I needed a nap more than I needed to breathe at the moment.

  “Zelda, will you be at both of your sessions today?” Roger asked as he put on his coat and slipped a coffee cake Boba had missed into his man purse.

  “I have three today,” I reminded him as he blanched and then quickly covered it with a professional smile.

  “Of course you do,” he agreed with forced enthusiasm. “I look forward to them. I’ll be at the office if anyone needs me,” Roger called out as he tore out of the house.

  My dad and Mac stared at me and waited for an explanation that was not coming.

  “What?” I asked, busying myself with clearing the table. I could have used magic, but I needed something to do so I didn’t have to explain my aggressive approach to therapy. Mostly because I wasn’t sure I understood my aggressive approach.

  “You’re seeing Roger three times a day?” Fabio asked cautiously.

  Mac just leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest and watched me as a small smile played at his lips. It made me want to kiss him—even with my dad standing in the room.

  I had it really bad. No one should look as good as Mac did.

  “Is something wrong with you?” Fabio asked still stuck on the fact that I was attending therapy like an addict.

  “Is that a rhetorical question?” I snapped as I plopped my butt down on a chair and sighed dramatically.

  The question was fair. It was odd what I was doing, but I was doing it for a reason. Everything, including not making the chipmunks eat their man junk, was because I was turning over a new leaf. I wasn’t the only one I cared about anymore. Come to think of it, I hadn’t really ever cared for myself. I was on my list of things to learn to love as well. However, there was a block and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  I was pretty sure I loved Fabio. And I was terrified that I was in love with Mac. I just was unsure if I loved myself. I was trying. Three-a-days were going to either help me succeed or ensure Roger’s early retirement.

  “I’m just trying to figure stuff out,” I said not making eye contact with either of the men in my life. “I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?”

  “I’m good with that,” Mac said. He walked over to the china cabinet and removed yet another coffee cake that had been hidden by my fat cats and placed it in front of me with a fork and a grin.

  The wolf knew me well.

  “I won’t mention it again,” Fabio promised. “That is, unless you want to talk.”

  “Nope,” I said with a mouthful.

  “Ohhhhh,” Fabio said as he ran his hands through his hair creating an alarming look. “Big news. The National Association of Shifter Thespians Yearly wants to review our show.”

  “I thought we weren’t allowed to use the term thespian anymore,” I said.

  “Did you even hear what I just said?” my dad demanded in a tizzy, wringing his hands nervously. “This is huge. This could be my big break to directing on Broadway or off-off-off Broadway. Or at least somewhere in Kentucky.”

  “Yep. That’s great. And what’s even greater is that the acronym for them is NASTY. However, unless you rewrote the entire nasty piece of shit Bob penned, we’re going to get panned and your career will be over before it starts,” I told him as I offered Mac a large bite of my cake without stabbing him with a fork.

  I really was maturing…

  “Well,” Fabio began in a bizarrely high pitch as he rocked back and forth like he was on a ship at sea.

  I closed my eyes because he was making me dizzy and his tone made me a tiny bit nauseous.

  “There is one little itty bitty possible problem,” he said.

  “And what would that be?” I asked through gritted teeth knowing the answer would suck.

  “They’re coming in two days to see the show.”

  “Um, that’s not an itty bitty problem,” I hissed in a pitch even higher than my dad had just used. My coffee cake now tasted like cardboard and I started to sweat. “That’s a clusterfuck in the making. We’ve had one and a half rehearsals and we have no script. We have one questionable dance number where thirty people are twerking with hangers and Sassy is probably going to hump anything that moves on the stage. Not an itty bitty problem.” I ended my rant in a shout that made both Mac and my dad wince.

  “I rewrote it. We’re keeping the Wire Hanger number because it’s just on the very outer edge of being so bad it’s good, but the show is a one act now. It’s short and to the point. You’ll be wonderful. No rapping,” Fabio vowed.

  My dad was now on his knees in front of me giving me the big eyes. It worked far better when he was a cat, but it still got me. Part of me wanted to embed my fork in his forehead, but I knew that was bad and not what the new and slightly improved Zelda would do. However, it was tempting.

  “You’re serious?” I pushed out of my chair and with a quick pat to my dad’s head I paced the kitchen. In my distress, I found three more cakes that my obese cats had stowed away. Well at least I’d be able to eat myself into a stupor after I agreed to Fabio’s new and horrendous plan.

  “You can do it, baby,” Mac said as he very kindly paced right along side me. “You’re a terrific actress.”

  “When have you seen her act?” Fabio demanded and then screamed in panic. “NO. Do not tell me.”

  Mac glanced at me quizzically and I just shrugged innocently. He really didn’t need to know that I’d traumatized my father with our fairy tale sex-capades. Just as Fabio didn’t need to know that his condom use was a boner killer for Mac and me. Total honesty was complete bullshit.

  “How exactly do you plan to make this disaster happen?” I asked as I picked at the coffee cake, tearing the masterpiece to shreds.

  “Well, Bob is notifying everyone as we speak and we’re going to do marathon rehearsals until show time,” Fabio mumbled as he went to the fridge and yanked out the ingredients for chocolate chip cookie dough.

  He was going to need a lot more than raw gooey sugar to make me do this.

  “I have therapy. I have dates with a wolf. Sassy is dumpster diving in the chipmunks’ brains. And someone named Ber wants me dead—I think. Houston, we have a problem here.”

  “No, Jack Swigert. We don’t,” Fabio shot back with a grin.

  “I can’t believe you knew the dude’s name,” I shouted and gave my dad a high five. “I didn’t even remember his name. I would have said Tom Hanks.”

  “It should have been Kevin Bacon because he played Swigert, but Hanks said it in the movie,” Mac added with a smirk, not to be outdone by my dad’s knowledge of useless pop culture.

  Mac got a high five, too, along with a covert butt grab. These were my kind of guys.

  “However wonderful bonding over our love of Apollo 13 is, we really do have a problem,” I stated firmly. “No way can we do a show in two days. Even I know this.”

  “We can and we will,” Fabio insisted as he shoved a full bag of mini chocolate chips into my hands. “I’ll record a voiceover of all the dialogue and the entire cast will act it out like a silent movie except for the Wire Hanger number. No one has to utter a word… thankfully. And Sassy’s absence from rehearsal won’t be a problem. She’ll be fa
r better without practicing. Having her otherwise disposed gives her less time to come up with obscene and questionably legal character ideas.”

  He did have a point.

  “I don’t have to speak?” I asked warily as I tore open the bag and inhaled half of it.

  “Nope,” Dad promised.

 

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