Make A Witch

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Make A Witch Page 15

by Amanda M. Lee


  “Clove?”

  Landon rested his hand on my hip as he moved behind me, his eyes widening when he caught sight of our missing cousin and her boyfriend. “What are you doing here? I thought you were at the Dandridge making Sam feel better about being disrespected.”

  “Oh, yeah, that will make things better,” I deadpanned.

  Landon shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “He’ll live.” He pulled out a chair so I could sit, his eyes briefly locking with my father’s as he forced a tight smile. “Thank you for inviting us for dessert. We’ve had a long day.”

  “Some of us have had a long day,” Thistle clarified, casting a dubious look in Clove’s direction. “I believe you took care of one person on our wish list before disappearing for the afternoon.”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Clove offered blankly. She looked slightly off, almost scattered. “Sam needed some extra attention. And then Dad called to talk, and … the next thing I knew, well, we were out here.”

  “The entire day?” Thistle was understandably dubious. “I don’t get why you didn’t tell us you were coming out here. We always come out here together so no one feels particularly burdened.”

  I rubbed my forehead and avoided eye contact with my father. I couldn’t believe she said that out loud. It was true, don’t get me wrong, but it was one of those things we tacitly agreed never to mention for fear our fathers might hear it or we might feel unduly burdened by guilt.

  “That cake smells great,” I said. “Who baked it?”

  “I did.” Uncle Warren, Clove’s father, shot me an odd look. He wasn’t in the lobby when Dad and Uncle Teddy greeted us, so our black eyes caught him off guard. “Did you two get in a fight?”

  “They always get in a fight,” Clove answered, haughty. “They threaten to make each other eat dirt and tattle to Aunt Tillie so someone gets cursed. It’s so lame-o.”

  I stilled. Even for Clove that was an immature way to verbalize her feelings. “Is something going on?”

  Landon jerked his head in my direction, his expression thoughtful as he glanced around the table.

  “Yeah, something is going on,” Thistle said, her annoyance coming out to play. “Clove is being a moron. I haven’t heard her use the term ‘lame-o’ since we were in middle school. Oh, well, there was that week she tried to carry it over into high school, but we beat her up until she agreed to stop.”

  “Yeah, that was like … um … so very stupid.” I heard the words come out of my mouth, registered the tone I uttered them with, and ran my tongue over my lips as I debated why it happened. “I’m not sure … .”

  “I missed you today, Daddy,” Thistle announced, resting her hand on her father’s shoulder and giving him a beseeching look. “Did you miss me?”

  Teddy seemed surprised by the question. “I always miss you, honey. I wish you would come around more often.”

  “We all wish you guys would come around more often,” Thistle offered. “We wish it on a daily basis.”

  “You wish?” Something about the word choice snagged in my head. Trying to focus when the world kept buzzing was impossible, though. “My head hurts.”

  “What?” Landon cupped my chin and lifted it, staring into my eyes. “Is this a headache or something from the black eye?”

  “I … it’s something else.” I rubbed my forehead. “I think something is happening.”

  “I think you’re right.” Landon looked panicked when he got to his feet and stared at Clove and Thistle. They rubbed their foreheads in the same manner, although they appeared more verbal as they chatted with their fathers. “Sam, how long have you been here?”

  Sam seemed surprised by the question as he held his hands palms up. “I guess about two hours.”

  “How did you end up here?”

  “Warren called and invited us to dinner,” Sam answered. “Clove said no initially, and then became overwhelmed with the urge to see him. I didn’t see any problem with the request, so … why?”

  “Have any of you guys been to town this week?” Landon asked, turning his eyes to Dad. He wasn’t accusatory, but his patience was clearly wearing thin.

  “We’ve all been to town this week,” Dad answered, running his hand down the back of my head. “What’s wrong? Honey, you look upset. Do you want to go upstairs and lie down?”

  “I … sure, Daddy.” Daddy? I couldn’t remember the last time I called my father “Daddy.” It had to be before they left. I cast a desperate look in Landon’s direction as the headache increased. “What’s happening?”

  “I think you’re fighting a wish,” Landon replied, kneeling in front of me. “I think your father, Teddy or Warren made a wish regarding you guys and now you’re fighting it. Doug Bateman mentioned something to me when I was taking him into custody. He said the last thing he remembered before … um, passing out … was a severe headache. That’s because he was fighting the wish.”

  “Are you saying I’m going to die?”

  “You’re never going to die on me,” Landon shot back, frustrated. He turned his eyes to my father. “One of you went to the wishing well over the past few days. You made a wish to recapture your youth … or repair your relationship with the girls … or go back in time and erase some hurt. Which one of you was it?”

  Dad balked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It was me,” Warren answered, raising his hand, sheepish. “I wished to make things better between us. I … didn’t mean to do this. I don’t understand.”

  Landon waved off the apology. “You didn’t do it. Aunt Tillie cursed the well to mess with Margaret Little, and it backfired. These wishes are going wrong. You need to go back to the wishing well and reverse whatever you wished for … and you need to do it soon.” Landon pressed his lips to my forehead as he stroked the back of my head. “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay.”

  “Wait a second.” Dad took a step forward, confused. “You’re saying the wishes are coming true and backfiring?”

  “The wishes seem to be turning more and more unstable as the day moves forward,” Landon replied. “Warren, go to the well and reverse the wish right now!”

  Warren nodded, horrified. “Okay. I’m sorry. I was just … .”

  “I know what you were doing,” Landon said, sympathy getting the better of him. “We all want to wish big and make little hurts go away because it’s easier. That’s not possible. Your relationship with the girls is what it is.

  “You created it and now you have to fix it,” he continued. “It’s going to take time and it’s not going to get better overnight. Most days a wish is just something your heart wants. Identifying it can be good, because you know what you want to work toward. But in this case, Aunt Tillie is a crazy loon and we’re all suffering.”

  “I’ll leave right now,” Warren said, dropping a kiss on the top of Clove’s head as she rubbed her forehead and Sam leaned close to whisper something to her.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Dad said, resting his hand on top of mine as he sat. “Tell me more about this curse. That might take your mind off of things. Is that how you got the black eye?”

  “A group of teenagers gave me the black eye,” I whined.

  Dad smirked. “Oh, well, I’m sure you’ll overcome the embarrassment.”

  Landon smirked. Dad seemed to be the only one who understood why I was so upset about getting beat up by teenagers. It had nothing to do with the wish, yet it was growth all the same.

  “Okay, how about I cut everyone some cake and we focus on that while Warren reverses his wish,” Uncle Teddy suggested. “How does that sound?”

  “I want sprinkles, too,” Thistle said.

  “Of course. I’ll get right on that.”

  Landon rubbed soothing circles on my neck as he leaned closer. “It’s going to be okay. I’m right here.”

  I mustered a watery smile. “You always are. Black eye and all.”

  “Bay, I always will be.” Landon kissed the corner of my mouth. “
Do you remember when you asked me if I had a wish?”

  I nodded, my head pounding.

  “I wish I could keep you from pain,” Landon said. “That’s my one wish.”

  “Right back at you.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I’m so tired.”

  “Sweetie, as soon as Warren reverses his wish and you eat your cake I’m taking you home to bed”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? And then tomorrow we’re going to end this. Aunt Tillie had better look out, because I’m not stopping until this is behind us. Enough is enough.”

  I wish Mom and Dad gave more thought to their procreation plan before they had you, Winnie. If they had, they would’ve started with me and things would be so much easier. Of course, if you start with perfection there’s nowhere to go but down. Just ask Twila.

  – Marnie Winchester explaining how she got cheated out of being the oldest Winchester sister

  Seventeen

  “How is she?”

  Dad moved to the couch where I rested, a pillow pressed over my forehead to muffle the relentless pounding. Landon sat on the floor next to me, rubbing my neck with one hand while he squeezed my fingers with the other.

  “It should be over soon,” Landon replied. “I’m starting to wonder what’s taking Warren so long. Maybe one of us should’ve gone with him.”

  “And exactly who was going to abandon their girlfriend?” Marcus snapped. He rarely lost his cool, but Thistle’s insistence on holding her head and moaning like a really annoying cartoon ghost had clearly unnerved him. “Were you going to leave Bay? I wasn’t going to leave Thistle, so … what?”

  “Chill out, drama queen,” Landon shot back. “We’re all in this together. There’s no reason to be … well … Thistle. I think the more time you spend with her the more ornery you get.”

  “Says the guy freaking out because he thinks everyone is going to believe he beat his girlfriend,” Marcus fired back.

  “Yeah, what’s up with that?” I asked, refusing to move the pillow. “You’ve been crazy about that since it happened.”

  “I happen to dislike my girlfriend having a black eye. Sue me.” I felt Landon shift to get more comfortable and a hand rested on my shin. “I don’t like anyone who hurts other people.”

  “I get that, but you’ve been especially manic about this.”

  “I don’t want you hurt. Ever.”

  I peeked out from beneath the pillow and focused on him despite the pain threatening to blur my vision. “Landon, no one who has ever met you would think you were capable of that.”

  “Chief Terry did. He was going to rip my head off when he saw your face.”

  “Chief Terry?” Dad tried to hide his distaste, but he wasn’t fast enough. “Why were you with him?”

  “We’re always with him.” It probably wasn’t wise to poke my father when he was feeling down, but I would never take Chief Terry – or his presence in our lives – for granted. “He’s been working on wish reversals, too.”

  “We’ve had a busy two days,” Landon explained. “When it first started I thought Bay was imagining it. She saw someone flying over the property – in a hoodie, no less – and I thought she dreamed it.”

  “Flying, huh?” Dad looked amused. “Like a superhero?”

  “He was flying over Aunt Tillie’s pot field,” I replied. “I have serious doubts it was a superhero unless … is Marijuana Man a thing?”

  Landon snorted, his eyes lighting up. He’d been down for hours so it was nice to see. “I thought the field was harvested for the season.”

  “It is. That leads me to believe that we’re dealing with a teenager. He’s either stupid or doesn’t realize that pot plants can’t grow when it’s cold.”

  “We haven’t dealt with him either.” Landon leaned against the support beam in the center of the living room and pressed the palm of my hand against his cheek. I didn’t think he realized it, but he did it at times when he was upset. It somehow soothed him.

  “I kind of forgot about him,” I admitted. “With all of the crap going on, the guy flying over the pot field seemed unimportant.”

  “Yes, well, when you’re dealing with naked senior citizens humping in a car and a woman wishing for Hollywood celebrities so she can use them as sex machines you have to prioritize,” Thistle interjected. “Speaking of that, where is Clove? She looked as if she was going to pass out.”

  “Sam took her to one of the rooms upstairs,” Uncle Teddy replied as he hovered close to Thistle. “Why is this still happening? Warren must’ve hit the wishing well by now.”

  “Maybe I should call Chief Terry,” Landon suggested, releasing my hand and digging in his pocket. “We can send him over there to make sure Warren hasn’t run into anyone or somehow gotten himself in trouble.”

  “I can look for him,” Dad offered. “You don’t have to bother Terry.”

  “I … .” Landon looked caught. “Chief Terry has been around for several wish reversals today. He knows how it’s done. Also, he’s in town. He can get to Warren faster. I don’t want Bay suffering longer than she has to.”

  Dad balked. “And you think I do?”

  “I think you’re jealous of Terry,” Landon answered without hesitation. “Listen, I get it. If I were in your position I would probably feel the same way. The problem is that you’ve earned this relationship with your kid and he’s earned the one he has with her.

  “He’s the one who was there all those years you guys were gone,” he continued, causing my heart to constrict. Now was so not the time for this. “They love him. Bay loves him. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you, too.”

  Landon typed something into his phone and stared for a moment until it dinged.

  “Chief Terry is going to check on Warren right now,” Landon said. “I kept the details light. Hopefully that will be enough.”

  We lapsed into uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, Dad staring at Landon as he gathered his thoughts, and then he cleared his throat to draw our attention. “I’m not jealous of Terry. Well, I am, but that’s not why I get so worked up.”

  “Okay.” Landon looked as if the last place he wanted to be was in the middle of this conversation. “Why do you get so worked up?”

  “Because it’s easier to blame other people than yourself,” Dad replied. “I love Bay, but I walked away. There was a time when I thought nothing could break apart my family … and I was wrong. Tillie broke apart my family.”

  “And that’s simply another excuse,” Landon snapped, his vehemence taking me by surprise. “Tillie was there for all three girls when you guys were gone. I’ve heard stories – hilarious stories, mind you – where she spent days upon days watching them while Winnie, Marnie and Twila were getting their bed and breakfast up and running.

  “She took them to cemeteries to steal flowers, to Margaret Little’s house to fill in her driveway with yellow snow, to Lila Stevens’ house to spy on her, and to the bakery for doughnuts and hot chocolate,” he continued. “She was there. I think it’s really despicable that you want to blame her for your shortcomings.”

  Dad’s mouth dropped open, surprise washing over him. “I’m not blaming her.”

  “You are,” Landon countered. “You can sit there and say that you never thought it would happen, but the fact of the matter is that you let it happen. You might think I’m being a hardass, but I have to be. I need Bay to know that no matter what, I won’t do what you did.

  “The Winchester family is difficult, and I would never say otherwise,” he continued, “but they’re easy, too. All you have to be is loyal and you’re golden with them. How do you think that I get bacon every single morning when I spend the night?”

  “I … don’t know.” Dad looked uncomfortable as he shifted from one foot to the other. “I didn’t want to leave Bay.”

  “If that were true you wouldn’t have left,” Landon shot back, not missing a beat. “We all make choices in life. You chose to lea
ve. You also chose to come back. You have to live with the consequences of your actions.

  “This is important to me, and I’m fairly certain it’s important to Marcus and Sam, too,” he continued. “I love Bay and I’m always going to be with her. One day I wouldn’t mind a kid or two with her – as long as we don’t allow Aunt Tillie to babysit, that is. I want her to know – no, I need her to know – that I won’t ever leave.

  “Blaming Aunt Tillie for your weakness is laughable,” Landon said as he shifted to get more comfortable. “The woman is massively difficult, but she’s easy to gauge. Do you know what she wants more than anything?”

  Dad shook his head. “No. Do you?”

  Landon nodded. “She wants her girls to be happy. She wants all of them to be happy. Even if she doesn’t like you she will make an effort to keep you in the fold if you make her girls happy. How do you think Sam hung around so long when none of us knew his true motivations?”

  “I … um … huh?”

  Landon smirked. “When Sam first came to town we were all suspicious of him,” he explained. “I was the worst, because he approached Bay and announced he knew she was a witch, and it made me uncomfortable. It didn’t make me uncomfortable because I was worried about people finding out, mind you, but it did worry me because I thought he wanted something from her.

  “As it turns out, he merely wanted people who understood him,” he continued. “He found that with the Winchesters. They opened their home and hearts to him. He’s a good man. He saved Bay. She probably would’ve died without him. That took time, though. It didn’t happen instantly.

  “You built your relationship with Bay over time.” Landon adopted a pragmatic tone as he rubbed his fingertips over my knuckles. “You seem to think it’s not going to take time to fix things. That’s not how it works, because it takes genuine effort to make things right.”

  “They’re not putting in a lot of effort,” Dad pointed out. I wanted to argue, but he wasn’t wrong. “Why do we have to put all of the effort in?”

 

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