Doom and Broom
Page 5
“Beats me,” he said and jumped down. “Can I have a can of that white tuna for dinner?” Meri asked as he sauntered into the hall.
When I came downstairs, Remy was waiting in the living room with two pizzas from the local pizzeria and a bottle of wine.
“It’s chocolate dessert wine,” he said when he caught me eyeing the bottle.
“You’re trying to butter me up,” I said and joined him on the sofa. “Where did you get chocolate wine?”
“Yeah,” he said and then looked down at the floor. “But it’s probably too late for that. Oh, and I got the wine at Mann’s. It’s a winery in the southern part of the state that makes it, so Mann stocks it in his store.”
“You think it’s too late for you to get back on my good side?” I asked.
“I screwed up by taking off and ignoring you,” he said without looking up. “I missed my chance, and Thorn Wilson took it.”
“What do you mean?”
“He kissed you today,” Remy said. “And you liked it. I mean, you didn’t reject him. I understand that, though.”
“What? How do you know that?” I unconsciously scooted away from him a little.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to know that, Brighton. I wasn’t spying on you or anything. I had a vision, and I was certain that it was real. I was hoping I wasn’t, but I can tell by your reaction that it was.”
“I’m not sure what to say,” I said, and I wasn’t.
“Say that you’ll have some pizza and chocolate wine with me. We need to talk.”
“All right,” I said.
“Good,” Remy’s voice sounded deeper and surer than I’d ever heard it when he responded. “I’ll get some wine glasses and plates from the kitchen. I got so wrapped up in my thoughts that I forgot to do that.”
While he was gone, I couldn’t help but contemplate what he’d told me. Why had he had a vision of Thorn kissing me? Were we that connected already? Did the universe have some reason for showing him?
“I don’t know why we are so connected, Brighton,” he said as he walked back into the living room.
“Did you just hear what I said in my head?”
“Not so much. I could just feel what you were thinking.”
“Are you using some sort of spell to do this?” I asked.
“No, and I wouldn’t do that. I used magic to teach you the witch language, but I would never use it to interfere with your free will,” he said and sat down on the sofa next to me. “But I saw something else, and I feel like I have to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“You’re going to choose him, Brighton. I missed my chance to stop that by abandoning you the other day. You’re going to choose to be with him, but it’s not going to go well. You won’t believe me. You already don’t, but I’ll be here for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw you coming home one night in tears. I was sitting on your front steps waiting for you.”
“That’s a pretty big leap to go from that to I’m going to choose Thorn and he’s going to break my heart. Is that what you came here to talk to me about?”
“No. I came here to talk to you about Langoria,” he said. “I have a secret, and I need to share it with someone. You’re the only one I feel like I can talk to about this.”
Thoughts that he had killed her flooded my mind, and I grabbed a glass of the chocolate wine and moved to one of the wingback chairs. Is that why he’d looked so stricken when we found her? Perhaps he had some sort of serious remorse for killing her. But why would he have murdered his aunt?
“I don’t blame you for being startled. I guess what I said did sound pretty cryptic, but, Brighton, I’d hope you know me better than to think I killed her.”
“If the secret isn’t that you killed her, then what is it?”
“Brighton,” He took a deep breath which he exhaled through his nose. “Langoria wasn’t my aunt. She was my biological mother.”
“Oh, my,” I said and took a huge gulp of the chocolatey wine. “Oh, my.”
The rest of the story went that Langoria had never wanted a child, so she’d given Remy to her sister when he was born. Remy’s adoptive mother had loved him from the start, and the rest of the family approved of the adoption since it was within the family.
Langoria moved on as if she’d never had a child, and in fact, had always treated Remy with a sort of aloof contempt. She married when Remy was in elementary school, he remembered being forced to attend the wedding, but never had any more children.
“They think I don’t know, Brighton,” Remy said as he ran his hands through his thick mop of chestnut hair. “I do know, though. I found the letter giving my mother legal guardianship of me when she accidently left it out in a stack of papers. She was registering me for high school and had to show it again. I tucked it back away and never said anything about it. No one knows that I know.”
“You’ve carried that around with you since high school?” I asked softly. “You never told anyone? Not even Annika?”
“I didn’t want to cause any trouble. I feel like it would cause a rift between Annika and her mother and Amelda if she knew. She wouldn’t like that they’d kept it a secret. She really wouldn’t like it that they’d just let Langoria give me away like an unwanted puppy. My mother was amazing to me even if she is kind of the black sheep of the family now. She doesn’t support the feud or keeping other witches out of Coventry, and because of that, I think I’m a better person. I can’t imagine what I’d be like if I was raised by Langoria.”
“You know that you’re not, right?”
“Not what?”
“Just an unwanted puppy,” I said. “I feel like you probably think that even though the mother that raised you loved you very much.”
“I guess you’re probably right. I mean, I know on an intellectual level that it’s not true, but it has shaped who I am. It’s probably why I took the job hidden away in the archives, and why I left when we found her dead.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Part of it was that it hit me like a train that she was never going to come apologize for just giving me away. She never cared about me even a little bit. That much was obvious. I guess I’d always thought she’d at least try to make amends for that. Maybe she’d come to me one day and say it was her weakness that caused her to abandon me and not mine. When we found her, I knew that was never going to happen. That was only half of it, though. The other half was the terror I felt that it would come out she was my mother. You’d know, and you’d see me as someone disposable. You’d know that I wasn’t worth all the time and affection you’ve given me.”
“Remy,” I said.
I stood up from my seat and crossed back to the sofa. After I’d set my wine glass down, I took him by the hands and pulled him off the sofa and into my arms.
It was just a hug, but we stood there in that embrace. He cried for a few minutes, and I just kept my arms around him until he quieted again. I listened to his heart beating while his arms stayed wrapped around my shoulders.
After a while, he took a step back and looked into my eyes. “Thank you for that, Brighton.”
“You know that I could never think that about you? I would never see you as disposable. You are worth all of the time and affection I’ve had to give.”
“You’re amazing,” he said and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “If Langoria’s death hadn’t happened, I would have fought so hard for you. But I hope that you’ll understand someday that this has put me in a place where I’m not ready for what you need. I need some time.”
“Who says I can’t give you time?” I asked, and he took a half step back.
“I say,” he said. “I don’t know how long it will take me to recover from this, and you are ready for love now. There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“But you said I was going to get my heart broken.”
“I’ll always be here for you,” he said and kissed my fo
rehead.
Chapter Seven
I just blinked my eyes, and when I opened them, it was morning and I was in bed. I’d have thought the whole thing was a dream, but there were pizza boxes in the fridge. All the pizza was still in them, and the bottle of wine sat on the shelf too. Only the two glasses we’d drunk while we were talking were gone. So I hadn’t drunk myself into a stupor or anything like that. It was as if he said what he’d said, and then I’d drifted off to sleep.
Instead of dwelling on what he’d told me, I decided to go pick up supplies from Nailed It. That was the hardware store in Coventry. I needed plastic bins for trash and weeds, and I needed a pair of gardening gloves. I’d seen a pair out in the shed behind the house, but they looked ancient. I imagined they’d fall apart with one use, but fortunately for me, I hadn’t gotten any blisters yet.
Nailed It was on the other side of town past the courthouse, but I’d seen it on my way into Coventry. It was a small place, but my list was simple. I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to drive over to the next town, but I doubted I would.
“I’m going to the hardware store,” I said to Meri after breakfast. “You want to go?”
“To the hardware store?”
“I see videos of people who take their dogs to the big box places, so I figured you might be welcome.”
“I’m not super popular around here, Brighton. Remember that I’m a banished Skeenbauer familiar. Plus, the hardware store sounds boring. I’ll just rest here and digest my breakfast.”
“Suit yourself,” I said.
“Someone’s got to keep the demons at bay,” he retorted.
I shuddered thinking about the thing in the basement and hastily made my way out the front door. The sunshine instantly made me feel better. It felt like it was far less likely that some creature from hell was going to pop out and try to devour my soul in the daylight.
After the short drive, I pulled my car into one of the spaces in the Nailed It parking lot. From the looks of it, the place wasn’t very busy on weekday mornings. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. Perhaps I thought there’d be more contractors or something, but that meant I’d have the store mostly to myself.
When I walked through the automatic doors, the woman manning the one open cash register let out a gasp like she couldn’t believe I’d dared enter her store. I tried to give her a friendly wave and say hello, but she just clucked her tongue at me.
For a moment, I considered leaving and going to the Home Depot in the next town. But I was already there, and I didn’t need much.
So I ignored her and made my way deeper into the store. I hoped that I would find someone else who worked in the store so I could ask them where they kept the trash cans and gloves, but no one else materialized. They were either on a break or the cashier was the only person working in the whole store. I wasn’t going to ask her, and I wondered how unpleasant she was going to make my checkout experience.
I did manage to wander past another customer. Two, actually. There was a couple shopping in the light fixture aisle. They didn’t look very happy, but I didn’t need anything in that section. So the source of their discontent had to remain a mystery.
After walking through the store twice, I finally remembered that I was a witch. I didn’t think that using my magic to find the trash cans should count as using it for personal gain, so I closed my eyes for a second and imagined a little beam of blue light leading from me to the trash cans. I could see in my mind’s eye where it went. Then I opened my eyes and found to my delight that it was still there. It lead me right to the trash cans and then vanished.
For a moment, I thought it would be an awesome skill to have. That was before a wave of dizziness hit me. My head swooned and my stomach roiled. I had to put my arm out and steady myself against the shelf. After a minute that felt like an eternity, it passed. That was my first lesson in using my magic for personal gain, and I vowed to be far more careful in the future.
But once I was feeling better, it was time to select a garbage can. The store was smaller than Home Depot or Lowe’s, so there were only a few choices.
I’d just about decided on the ones with the wheels and large black handles when the cashier I’d seen earlier turned down the aisle and made a beeline for me.
“Can I help you with anything, ma’am?” she asked in a snide tone.
“I’m just here to buy some trash bins and gloves,” I said.
I had hoped to avoid a confrontation I knew was coming. The problem was that I had no idea why the woman, Karen, according to her name tag, was so peeved at me.
“There’s a lot of talk about you around town. Some people are saying you killed a woman. I just don’t think you belong here in Coventry,” she sniped.
“Really? That’s what Langoria said too. Were you two friends?”
“Gloves are in aisle eight. I suggest you get them and be on your way.”
Aisle eight was close enough to where the couple was shopping for me to overhear what they were bickering about. I’d like to say that I didn’t linger over choosing between the plain yellow gardening gloves and the white ones with a little fern pattern just so I could listen in, but I did.
I’m not proud of being an eavesdropper, but for some reason, I just could not tune them out. That reason became apparent quickly.
“You’re not even trying to help me pick the right lights for the remodel,” the woman complained. “It’s obvious you don’t want to be here.”
“It’s obvious because it’s true,” the man retorted. “You could handle this on your own. I don’t care what lights you pick, and I have work to do at home. This is a waste of my time.”
“You don’t care?” he hissed. “This is a waste of your time?”
“I just mean that I’ll be happy with whatever you pick, Drusilla. I trust you to do this. And you know I’ve got paperwork to get ready for my attorney. I need it done as soon as possible.”
“You’ve got paperwork to finish for your attorney because you dragged your feet while she was alive. If you’d taken care of things, you wouldn’t need to rush home and finish paperwork for your precious Langoria.”
“Please don’t call her that,” the man said. “She’s my ex-wife. I’ve just got some forms to get to my attorney to stop the alimony from being withdrawn from my account. I thought that would make you happy for once.”
“I would have been happy if you’d tried harder to get the alimony stopped without her having to die to do it. I would be happy if you weren’t sulking about her death like you still loved her. You’re supposed to be moving on with your life with me, but all I see you do is getting all sad because Langoria died,” the woman said, and I heard what I thought was her stomping her foot on the store’s concrete floor. “You still loved her and that’s why you never fought hard enough to get the alimony stopped. You were still taking care of her because you wanted to.”
“You know what…” The man started to say something, but he just let out a loud sigh.
I thought I heard him walking away, and I was afraid he’d catch me listening from the other aisle. So I grabbed a pair of gloves quickly and made my way to Karen’s register.
Fortunately for me, she didn’t say anything else while I checked out. She did glare at me the entire time, but I saw a man who might have been her manager standing at the customer service desk. His presence seemed to keep her from sniping at me again.
I left the store with my new trash bins, gloves, and a new clue as to who might have killed Langoria. At the very least, her ex-husband seemed to have benefited from her death. While I couldn’t be sure, the way his girlfriend was talking about it seemed to imply that he might have had a hand in her untimely demise.
Chapter Eight
Not sure of what to do next, I went home and put the trash bins next to the house. Once I’d cut the tags off the gloves, I was ready to work. I figured if I went over to the cemetery and pulled more weeds, something would come to me.
And boy, did something co
me to me. A couple of hours into my work, the temperature in the air around me felt as though it had dropped thirty degrees. Suddenly, I could see my breath and a disconcerting buzz filled the cemetery. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood up.
A rustling in the trees behind me caught my attention. I’d been kneeling down to pull weeds, but I jumped up and spun around. Langoria’s specter was behind me. She looked exactly as she had in my living room except that instead of holding a bouquet of flowers, she held a pair of gardening gloves. I’d chosen the white pair with the fern pattern, but Langoria held the yellow pair in her hand.
It had to mean something, but before I could figure it out, her face morphed from calm to a mask of fury. Her hands shot above her head, and suddenly, dark clouds swirled in the sky. They’d blown in from the east faster than I’d ever seen a front move. Langoria’s ghost had called them.
Thunder crashed and the wind howled. The first fat drops of ice cold rain splashed on my cheeks moments later.
“Langoria, why are you doing this?” I called out over the sudden maelstrom. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll help.”
She didn’t speak, but instead shook her fist at me. Thunder rumbled like an earthquake and I screamed when lightning struck right next to me. It was so close that I felt a few of the hairs on my arms sizzle.
Trying to reason with her further would only have gotten me killed. Instead, I turned and ran. The trash bag I was holding snagged on the fence as I tried to get over it. Lightning struck the tree closest to me as I tried to free it, and I had to just let it drop.
I ran across the road without thinking or looking. The sound of brakes squealing and a horn honking froze me in place. The pickup truck I’d run out in front of swerved to miss me and almost slid off the road thanks to the water pooling on the asphalt.
My hand shot out and I somehow used my magic to correct its course. The driver was none the wiser that it was me who’d kept him from sliding into the ditch. He honked and drove around me with his middle finger up and stuck out the window he’d rolled down in the rain just to flip me off. I supposed I couldn’t expect any thanks considering it was me who’d almost caused the accident in the first place.