“Maybe,” I said, dubious. “But what else can we do?”
“By the way,” Eve lowered her voice. “Aunt Dora wants us dressed and ready to go in an hour. I tried to let you sleep as long as possible, but she was starting to ask questions.” She leaned in to me. “I also told her Leo would be bunking in one of the spare rooms. She seemed okay with that.”
“Good thinking.” My hair was still wet and I pulled it into a messy bun on the top of my head. I waited for Eve to say something about my hairstyle, but she didn’t, evidence that tiredness had taken over her fashion sensibilities for the time being.
“What shall we wear?” I asked. I hadn’t done any laundry in a week.
“I’ll find you something of mine to wear. You attend to him. I got a duffel bag out of his trunk and he had some spare clothes in it.”
“We are taking him?”
“I think we have to. Unless we want to chain him up in the backyard?”
We looked at Leo and he shot us a toothy smile, then continued playing with his feet.
“He’s our chain now, Maggie. For better or worse.”
I wasn't crazy about seeing Shane, but it hardly seemed to matter anymore, in light of the newest developments. Murder has a way of putting things in perspective and I had more important things to worry about at the moment.
I drove Leo’s Cadillac as he played with the dials on the radio, howling along to various songs, his mind trying to latch on to lyrics and melodies he remembered. When he’d hit a certain line or key I found myself saying, “Yes, that’s right. Good, good.”
Eve rolled her eyes in the rearview mirror, not thinking the horrendous sounds coming out of Leo were good at all.
“Later,” I whispered and he smiled, putting a finger to his lips to show me that he was in on the secret.
Leo looked around when we arrived at Dip Stix. I had had to bribe him with candy to get him into the car. When he saw that there was no candy waiting for us, he gave me a look that said I was a big, fat liar.
“Don’t worry,” I said, taking his hand and following Eve into Dip Stix. “There are mints inside.”
“Swank,” Eve said as we entered the café.
I stopped in the entryway, my mouth dropping as I took in the room’s holiday cheer.
The white lights I had “popped” had all been replaced by newer, stouter models that were intertwined with strands of red and green, neatly outlining the windows and the arch that separated the dining room from the kitchen. Near the bandstand, a small tree with a silver garland twinkled at us. The pictures on the wall had been wrapped in foil and ribbon to make them look like presents, and instrumental Christmas music played softly in the background.
But the most beautiful addition of all was the oak harvest table that sat in the center of the room, surrounded by a dozen, hard-backed chairs. The table abounded with candles, crystal glasses, white china plates, place cards, and an assortment of trays and covered dishes. Smells of turkey, hot rolls, and pumpkin pie permeated the room.
I tightened my grip on Leo to keep him from darting to the table without me.
“It’s beautiful,” I said as Aunt Dora emerged from the kitchen. Paul had picked her up hours before, so she could help them finish up dinner.
“Aye,” she said, plunking a pie onto the table. “An’ without a woman’s touch. I never would have guessed it possible.”
“Can-dee?” Leo asked again, looking forlornly around.
Aunt Dora narrowed her sharp eyes, but returned to the kitchen without a further word.
“She’s on to us,” Eve said, removing her coat and seating herself at the table.
“I know.”
I pulled out a chair for Leo and sat him between myself and Eve. Leo cocked his head, listening as Paul and Shane argued about spices from the kitchen. Aunt Dora emerged once again, throwing her hands into the air.
“I give up,” she said, easing into the chair next to Eve. “If the boys want ta run the whole show, who am I ta stop them? I tell ya, I’ll never get used to these modern times.”
The door chimed and June Bug pushed through, her cheeks the color of apples and her eyes flashing with holiday enthusiasm. Bits of dried leaves clung to her pink beanie and pearl gray sweater. She picked them off as she made her way towards us.
Merry and Ruth Anne followed through the door, holding Mother’s arms as she hobbled forward.
“Who’s he?” June Bug asked, seating herself across from Leo, who studied his reflection in a spoon.
“A friend,” I said, as Mother settled into her chair at the head of the table.
Ruth Anne sat by Mother and Merry fell in next to June Bug.
“June Bug, that’s the special visitor I told you about,” Merry said, tilting her chin to the side. “Remember, he doesn’t have any family to be with for the holidays, so we are going to make him feel like he’s a part of our family. Right?”
“He’s weird,” June Bug said, removing her gloves and placing them in her mother’s purse.
Leo opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, like a puffer fish.
Merry frowned. “That’s not the way we treat our guests, young lady. Now mind your manners, or no pie for dessert.”
“Well, he is,” June Bug shrugged, as Leo licked a fork.
I snatched the utensil from his hands. He seemed about to object when he noticed Merry. A dopey grin overtook his face. Merry leaned across the table, and patted his hand.
“Hi, Leo,” she said. “Good to see you again.” Taking a sip from her water glass, she asked casually, “You enjoying your Thanksgiving so far?”
“Thanks-givvv-ing?” he asked, trying out the word.
“Why do you talk like that?” June Bug asked.
Leo stared at her a moment, before turning his attention back to Merry.
“Leo doesn’t hear very well,” Merry answered. “And sometimes it’s hard for him to talk.”
June Bug’s eyes lit up. “Oh? Like he’s deaf?”
“Yes, yes. So we have to speak slowly, okay?”
June Bug accepted the explanation and proceeded to tell Leo about the earth worms she had seen that morning, in loud, drawn-out words. Merry sighed, obviously relieved.
Mother studied the china as Ruth Anne and Aunt Dora talked about the impending cold weather to come.
“I can feel it in my hips,” Aunt Dora said, as Ruth Anne confessed to not knowing a “real winter” in years.
Eve reached behind Leo and tapped my shoulder, drawing attention to Paul who stood near the kitchen, a cell phone in his hand. “He’s still texting her,” she whispered, her face tightening. “I don’t know why I bothered to come.”
“Really?” I whispered back. “That’s what you’re upset about? It was your petty insecurities that got us into this mess in the first place.”
“They’re not petty,” she said, her cheeks flushing to the color of the cranberries on the table.
Paul put the phone to his ear and disappeared around a corner.
“I’m sorry,” I said, sensing the helplessness inside her. “I know it’s hard.”
“It is. And thank you.”
“What’s a lady gotta do ta get some wine around here?” Aunt Dora bellowed, clanking a crystal glass with her spoon as if she were going to make a toast.
Mother snickered, then coughed so loudly she clutched her chest.
We sat silently, waiting for the cough to subside.
“Hurt?” Leo asked me, pointing at Mother.
“Yes.”
“Sad.” He started to rise, perhaps to comfort her, but I pulled him gently back into his seat.
At last, Mother became aware of our new companion. “And who’s this?” she asked, one brow arching slyly over her cloudy, blue eyes. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Miss Sasha, meet Leo. A friend of Maggie’s,” Ruth Anne said quickly.
“The baby’s father?”
I turned quickly to see if Shane was nearby. Fortunately, he
hadn’t left the kitchen.
“No, just a friend,” I said, hoping she’d drop it.
There was a spark in her eyes that told me she knew something was amiss, but a coughing fit interrupted her thoughts and she lost interest in Leo as she tried to regain her breath.
“I’ll help you, Mother,” I avowed under my breath, squeezing the cloth napkin in my fists.
I had raised a man from the dead; surely, I could stop my mother’s illness from progressing.
“Sorry to keep you ladies waiting.” Shane emerged, carrying two bottles of wine and a corkscrew. “We wanted this day to be special for you.”
He stopped, mid-step, as he noticed Leo. Shane regained his composure and proceeded around the table, pouring wine into everyone’s glasses but June Bug’s and Merry’s.
“Cider for you two,” he said, winking.
“Maggie needs cider, too,” Eve said and I shot her a furious look. She shrunk down in her chair as she realized she had said too much.
“Oh?” Shane asked.
“No. Wine’s fine,” I lied.
“I’m Shane, by the way,” he said, extending a hand to Leo.
Leo looked at him strangely and didn’t respond.
“A friend of Maggie’s,” Mother said, smiling.
“Yes,” I agreed, feeling Shane’s eyes burn into me. “Shane, this is Leo. And he’ll be drinking water, if that’s okay?”
Shane gave me a curious look but left his cup empty. “So sport, you in Dark Root for business or pleasure?”
“Plea-sure,” Leo grinned, latching on to the word. “Magg-ee.”
I caught Ruth Anne’s lips twitching, resisting the urge to break into laughter.
“I see,” said Shane, scratching his head. “Maggie’s full of surprises. Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable.” With that he returned to the kitchen
“Pleasure, Maggie?” Eve whispered from my right. “Maybe the dufus has some use after all.”
“You’re a sick woman,” I said. “Keep laughing and I’ll send him your way.”
Eve’s eyes drifted to Paul, standing under the archway, pecking buttons on his phone. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea.”
In spite of everything, Thanksgiving turned out better than expected. The turkey was moist, the wine flowed freely, and Mother, quite lucid, regaled us all with stories from her youth.
“Did you really use your magick to give a woman warts, Grandma?” June Bug asked, picking at the massive drumstick on her plate.
“Not just any warts,” Mother said, her eyes taking on a wicked glee. “Warts the size of jelly beans!”
“That doesn't sound very nice,” Merry said.
Aunt Dora stamped her fists on the table, causing some of the wine in the glasses to spill over. “The woman had it comin’! Trying ta steal yer mother’s beau. Warts was the least she deserved!”
Beau?
That word caught our attention and we all turned our heads. Mother had never spoken of romance or beaus before.
“Which beau was that?” I asked, smiling over a glass of wine I pretended to sip for Shane’s benefit. Leo had fallen asleep after his third piece of pumpkin pie, and rested his head on my shoulder. Shane bristled as he walked by, carrying away empty plates.
Mother examined me for a long time, then pursed her lips and said, “Maggie, is it so hard to believe I once had a beau?”
“Armand?” I asked, taking a stab by naming the only straight male I’d ever heard her speak of.
She shook her head, then blew her nose into a tissue. “No, not Armand. This was way before him.” Her eyes glassed over as she picked through the seeds of her memory.
“Were you in love?” I asked, noticing Shane, who had found a seat alone at the end of the table.
“Oh, Maggie.” She sighed.
“Were you?” June Bug asked as we all leaned in.
“I was young.” Mother’s lips were taut but drawn up at the corners, creating a dimple in her left cheek I’d never known she had. “His name was Robert.”
Robbie?
“We met at a dance. He was in the service and I spotted him in his uniform. With one smile he swept me off my feet.”
She shook her head, her eyes moistening. “Now, the country was opposed to war, and me, too. What was going on in the rest of the world shouldn’t concern us. But he got me caught up in his convictions, his enthusiasm that the whole world needed to be free and that even though we were geographically disconnected, a connection existed between all of us. He changed my ideas on…everything.”
Aunt Dora nodded solemnly in agreement.
“Did he, um…did he…?” I couldn’t bring myself to ask the question, but I didn’t need to.
Mother dabbed her eyes with the Kleenex.
“Yes, Maggie, he did. Bravely, I hear.” She caught her breath, a haunting, gasping sound from her soul. Aunt Dora placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder.
“We lost a lot of young men that year,” Mother continued. “War’s dirty work, but often necessary. Like our work here, it can fight back the encroaching dark.”
Merry looked at Mother. “It’s okay, Mama. You don’t have to talk about it anymore.”
Mother recovered herself and stared hard at Merry. “But I want to talk about it! If I don’t talk about it, it’s like he never existed. Dora and I might be the only ones who still remember. I’ve been wishing him away too long.”
“There’s nothing you could have done,” I said, trying to console her. “But at least you have the memory.”
“Oh, Maggie. If only I’d been near him, I could have used my wand…” She swallowed. “But I could only save so many.”
Aunt Dora took her cane and rose, lumbering up behind her. “Death takes us all eventually, Sasha. Ya couldn’t have helped fer ever.”
Leo stirred beside me. I patted his head, lulling him back into his dreams.
“What was his last name?” Ruth Anne asked, pulling out her notepad. “Maybe we could get in touch with some of his relatives?”
Mother fixed her steely eyes upon Ruth Anne, lifting her chin defiantly. “Maddock.”
My heart beat wildly in my chest at her announcement. I exchanged wide-eyed glances with the others. Maddock. Our last name.
Mother rose, more with strength that comes from determination than from muscle.
“Shane, thank you for a lovely evening,” she said. “That’s the best food I’ve had in quite a while.” And then to Merry. “I’m tired. Please take me home now.”
I was still stunned by Mother’s announcement when Shane tapped me on the shoulder. “Maggie, can I have a word with you before you go?”
The room had mostly emptied out.
Ruth Anne and Merry had taken Aunt Dora, Mother, and June Bug home, leaving Eve and myself to assist with the cleanup. Leo still slept in his chair, snoring loudly enough to rouse himself from time to time, before drifting back off to sleep.
I nodded and followed Shane to the plush booth in the rear of the dining room. A rush of nostalgia swept over me as I remembered the last time I sat in this booth, the night Shane had debuted his remodeled café.
A month ago, but it seemed like a lifetime.
“Firstly,” Shane said, sliding in beside me. “I want to apologize for last night.”
“Last night?”
His face turned red. “Um, yes. Last night?”
“Oh.” The dream came back to me. Shane pressing against me, clenching my pendant in his hands. My eyes widened. “So, you really can…?”
“Yes, since I was little. It’s not something I do often. And I’d like to think I have no control over it, but I do. A little anyway.”
“But how?”
“Well…” he ran his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. “If I fall asleep thinking of someone, sometimes I can enter their dreams.”
“I see.” My heart beat rapidly as I realized he really had come to me.
“I apologize if I wasn’t a gentleman. I may have been caught up by your charms.”
“Oh, you don’t need to apologize,” I said, blushing at the memory.
“Yes, yes, I do.” He bent his head, revealing the soft hairs on the back of his neck. “I’m not like that, really, I promise.”
“Oh.” I tried to hide my disappointment. I liked the real Shane, but the dream Shane...
My knees weakened at the thought.
“Secondly,” he continued, meeting my eyes once again. “I’m still sorry for what you saw the other day. It wasn't what it looked like.”
The lights around us flickered off and on as I thought about Dream Shane doing those things to that other woman. I gazed at him coldly. “You’re a grown man, Shane Doler. You can do whatever you like.”
“Yes, that’s true and thank you for that, but––”
“We are both adults,” I continued, jealousy rising inside me. “We can both do whatever we like.”
Shane pressed his palms together. “Maggie, if you weren't so hard-headed and you listened for a change, you’d see there was nothing going on with me and that woman.”
“Like I said, do what you want.”
“Goddammit, Maggie. Why do you have such a thick skull? I don’t want to do anything with her!”
“Then why did you?”
“I didn’t. You know, talking to you is like talking to a brick wall.”
“Hey, I wasn't the one with a strange woman in my room.”
“No, you’re the one with the strange man in my diner.”
“So?”
“So? So? Who is he anyways? And where is he staying?”
“He’s staying at Harvest Home. And he’s an old friend, like Eve said.”
Shane focused on Leo across the room. “He doesn't look that old.” His eyes shifted as a thought ran through his brain. “Is this the secret you’ve been keeping from me? This new man?”
“No! And anyways, it’s none of your business. Is this why you called me over? To interrogate me about Leo?” I crossed my arms and stared defiantly back.
“No, I called you over to tell you that I was sorry for the dream and for what you saw that morning, neither of which I had much control over.”
The Magick of Dark Root (Daughters of Dark Root) Page 20