4 Witching On A Star (3 page)

After a couple hours of work, I decided to join Clove and Thistle for lunch. As I made my way down Main Street, I couldn’t help but relish the feel of the sun on my face and the warmth on my skin. The days were still only topping out in the fifties, but that was a marked improvement on the bitter winter we had just survived.

As a denizen of northern Lower Michigan, I was used to snow. This past winter, though, had been brutal beyond belief. Not only had we set snowfall records, we had also set low temperature records – on almost a weekly basis. This spring had been more welcome than a steaming bowl of my mother’s homemade stew.

Downtown Hemlock Cove is as quaint as they come. We’re talking cobblestone streets and kitschy businesses that cater specifically to tourists. We’ve got a livery, a bakery, a hardware store and a pewter unicorn store. There’s also a new corner store, featuring homemade quilts and afghans, and a new pizzeria that made some of the best pizza I had ever had the pleasure of eating.

My favorite store on the main drag, though, is the local magic store, Hypnotic. Thistle and Clove had opened the store while I had been down in Detroit. Now it was a thriving business, and one of the main tourist destinations in Hemlock Cove. I was proud of what they had accomplished.

When I entered Hypnotic – the wind chimes over the door announcing my presence – only Clove was in the front of the store. She glanced up when I entered and then turned her attention back to the ledger she was balancing.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I slid onto the overstuffed couch in the middle of the retail area.

“Nothing,” Clove said nervously, smoothing down her shoulder-length hair as she averted her gaze from mine. “Why do you think anything is up?”

I hadn’t meant the question as an inquisition. Clove’s reaction, though, made me realize that something really was up. She was a terrible liar.

“Where is Thistle?”

“She’s in the back,” Clove said. “We’re getting ready to do our spring ordering and we have to take stock of what we need.”

That sounded plausible – except I knew that Thistle was obviously doing something else given Clove’s nervous demeanor.

“Huh,” I said. “So, are you guys going to be carrying anything special this spring?” I was going to play the game until Clove folded. She always did.

“What? Oh, I don’t know. We’ve found some new candle wax we want to try and Thistle has ideas for some flower candles she wants to make. She’s going to branch out and start making those scented wax melts, too.”

“That sounds cool.”

“Yeah,” Clove continued, casting a quick glance over her shoulder at the curtain that separated the main store from the storeroom at the back. “And we’ve ordered some cool new voodoo dolls from New Orleans. They’re really neat.”

“Those should be a big draw.”

“Yeah,” Clove nodded. “And more herbs and crystals, of course.”

“Of course,” I agreed. “And Thistle is doing inventory?”

“What?” Clove looked surprised. “I told you she was doing inventory. Why did you ask me that?”

Because you’re a big fat liar. “I just forgot.”

“Oh, okay.”

“What is she inventorying again?”

Clove pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. “You’re trying to trip me up.”

“That’s an ugly thing to say.” True, but ugly.

“I’m not doing anything,” Clove whined.

“I didn’t say you were,” I said. “I want to know what Thistle is doing.”

“Why do you think Thistle is up to something?”

“Because you’re acting all squirrely,” I replied succinctly.

“I’m not acting squirrely,” Clove countered. “You’re just suspicious by nature. It’s not a very nice trait.”

Well, that did it. Thistle was definitely up to something. I got to my feet and started moving towards the storeroom. Clove blocked my entry behind the counter. “That’s for employees only.”

“What are you hiding?” I grabbed Clove’s shoulders and tried to physically move her. She was small but strong.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Clove protested, reaching up and grabbing my hair angrily. “You can’t go back there.”

“
Ow! Let go of my hair.” I reached over and yanked Clove’s hair for good measure.

“
Ow! That hurts!”

“It’s supposed to,” I gasped as Clove gave my locks a particularly vicious yank. “Stop that.”

“You stop it,” Clove seethed through clenched teeth.

“You stop it first,” I ordered.

“No, you stop it first.”

This was getting us nowhere. “At the same time.”

Clove met my gaze, searching my blue eyes with her brown for hints I was lying. “On the count of three.”

I nodded. “One.”

“Two,” she gritted out.

“Three,” we both said at the same time and then took a step back from one another.

“Well, that was undignified,” Clove said finally, never moving her wary glance from my face.

“You started it,” I grumbled, turning away from her and moving back towards the couch. I wasn’t giving up; I was just regrouping and rethinking.

I didn’t have long to wait. Once I was back on the couch, the curtain to the storeroom was dramatically thrown open as Thistle flounced her way out. “What are you two doing?” Her tone was accusatory.

“What were you doing?” I asked suspiciously.

“She was taking inventory,” Clove said hurriedly. “I already told you that.”

Thistle cast a sidelong look at Clove and just shook her head. “I was on the phone.”

“With who?”

“Good news, I’ve been selected to be a contestant on
America’s Next Top Model
. I’m very excited,” Thistle said blandly.

“Oh, well, that will be fun,” I replied, matching her tone. “I hope they make you pose with sharks.”

“That’s your fear, not mine,” Thistle reminded me.

“Fine, then I hope they make you pose with snakes,” I countered.

“That’s Clove’s fear.”

Crap, she was right. “Then I hope they make you pose with monkeys,” I said triumphantly.

Thistle narrowed her eyes. “That’s just mean.”

“And I hope they’re picking bugs out of your hair and eating them while it happens.” I have no idea why Thistle is scared of monkeys. Visits to the zoo as kids were terrifying for her, though. Maybe it’s because
King Kong
had scarred her like
Jaws
had scarred me.

“You’re getting more and more like Aunt Tillie every day,” Thistle grumbled.

“So, what were you doing?” If she thought that little display was going to distract me from the original question, she was sadly mistaken.

“I was talking to my dad on the phone,” Thistle said angrily. “Is that a crime now?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I just can’t figure out why Clove was hiding it.”

“Because she freaks out about weird things,” Thistle replied, moving around the counter and throwing herself onto the couch next to me. “You know that. She’s a little dramatic.”

This was true.

“I am not dramatic,” Clove shot back. “You guys always say that but it’s not true.”

It was totally true. “So, what did your dad want?” I turned to Thistle in an effort to avoid Clove’s overt pout.

“He wants us to come out to dinner at the Dragonfly,” Thistle replied cautiously.

“Us? Which us?”

“You, me and Clove,” Thistle said. “They all want us to come out.”

“Why?” While I had been on a few jaunts to the Dragonfly a few times over the past two months, which had all resulted in tense and uncomfortable interactions between me and my father, a dinner sounded just horrible enough to make me balk at the suggestion.

“He said that he wants to get into a rhythm,” Thistle said blithely.

“A rhythm?”

“His word, not mine.”

“I don’t know,” I hedged.

“He says that all three of them want to be able to spend more time with all three of us,” Thistle continued. “He thought that, if we were all together, it might be more comfortable.”

“For them or us?”

“Both, I think,” Thistle nodded.

“I think we should go,” Clove announced, widening her eyes as Thistle and I both turned to regard her coldly.

“Of course you do,” Thistle scoffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Thistle ignored Clove’s whine. “What do you think?” She turned to me.

I shrugged noncommittally. “I don’t know.”

“We can’t just ignore them,” Clove said. “They’re our fathers.”

“Yes, and our mothers are going to look at it as if we’re betraying them,” Thistle said honestly.

“You don’t know that,” Clove countered. “They’ve been acting fine.”

“Acting being the operative word,” I supplied.

“Yeah, they’re definitely up to something,” Thistle agreed. “I just can’t figure out what.”

“It’s got to be hard on them,” I replied. “They raised us alone for a long time, with just each other to rely on. Now, our dads are back and they’re feeling threatened by that – and it’s not just because they’re our fathers but because they’re their ex-husbands, too.”

“Yeah, it’s a whole pile of crap,” Thistle agreed.

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” Thistle said. “In an ideal world, I’d want to know my dad. There’s so much water under the bridge, though. They chose to leave us here with our moms. They chose to move away.”

“Because Aunt Tillie scared them,” Clove said bitterly.

“You can’t blame it all on Aunt Tillie,” I reminded Clove. “They let her push them around.”

“She’s scary, though.”

“She’s also loyal,” Thistle said pragmatically. “She was loyal to our moms because they were her family. She didn’t owe our dads any loyalty. They weren’t her family.”

“What about us, though?” I countered. “Didn’t she owe us some loyalty? They are our fathers, after all.”

“Yeah, but her loyalty to our moms outweighs her loyalty to us,” Thistle said, clearly lost in thought. “I think we should go,” she said finally. “They’re obviously staying here for the long haul this time. We can’t ignore them. We should try to forge some sort of relationship with them.”

The truth was, I had enjoyed a better relationship with my father after he had left Hemlock Cove than either Thistle or Clove had. While things were uncomfortable right now, at least I knew him. Thistle and Clove had almost no memories of their fathers from childhood – or their teen years. They deserved more. “Okay,” I blew out a sigh. “Let’s do it.”

“Really?” Clove looked elated.

“Why not? How bad can it be?”

Thistle shook her head in disgust. “You just jinxed us. You know that, right?”

Whoops. “Yeah,” I grumbled. “I know it. Let’s do it anyway.”

“How bad can it be?” Clove asked brightly.

Famous last words.

Despite our bravado after agreeing to a family dinner with our fathers, the three of us were too scared to admit to our mothers that we were going to the Dragonfly. Magically, we all found enough to keep us busy in town until fifteen minutes before dinnertime.

We met in front of Hypnotic, deciding to drive separately (but still together) for what was sure to be a tense evening.

I followed Thistle and Clove in my own vehicle, using the ten-minute drive out to the Dragonfly to try and relax. It didn’t exactly work. I parked outside the refurbished inn and moved up beside Thistle and Clove, who were both waiting for me on the front porch. I could tell they were equally nervous.

“We could still cancel this,” Thistle whispered.

“No,” Clove protested.

I was about to agree with Thistle when the front door of the Dragonfly popped open and my Uncle Teddy darted his head out. “Oh, I thought I heard a car.”

“We’re here,” Clove announced enthusiastically.

So much for cancelling. I forced a smile on my face by way of greeting Teddy and then waited for him to usher us inside. Once we had shed our coats in the front lobby, Teddy turned to us nervously.

“Jack and Warren are just finishing some stuff up upstairs,” he said. “They should be right down.” I could tell he was just as agitated as we were.

“You’ve done a lot with the place,” I said, in an effort to maintain polite conversation. “It’s looking good.”

The three of us glanced around the lobby appreciatively. While The Overlook was home, the Dragonfly also had a homey feel. The wood was dark and polished and the hardwood floors had been finished and glazed since the last time I had been out here. The walls were still bare – and it looked like a color-wheel sample with paint options was sitting on one of the end tables in the mostly furniture-bare space. Still, though, they’d made impressive headway in just two months.

“Do you want a tour?” Teddy asked.

“Sure,” Thistle said.

“Well, this is obviously the lobby,” Teddy said. “We’re still waiting for a front desk and we’re trying to decide on a color to paint it.”

“It looks nice,” I said honestly.

“Most of the upstairs bedrooms are still a mess,” Teddy continued. “There’s a lot of work to do up there. The kitchen is mostly finished, though.”

We followed Teddy through the swinging doors that led from the dining room into the heart of the house. I was surprised when I saw the work they had done. The last time I had been in this room the back wall had been burnt from a previous fire and the laundry room on the other side of the wall had been exposed to the elements. All of that had been fixed.

Since the Dragonfly was an older space, a lot of modern improvements had taken place in the kitchen to bring it up to code. All of the appliances were shiny and new and the countertops had all been refinished and replaced – along with the cupboards.

“This is beautiful,” Clove breathed. “You guys did a really great job. When we were here in the winter, this place was a hole.”

Teddy smiled tightly at Clove. When we’d been here in the winter we’d been spying. That probably wasn’t the best memory to revisit.

“Do you guys have a projected opening date?” I asked, hoping to remove the onus of conversation catastrophe from Clove’s shoulders.

“No,” Teddy admitted. “We were hoping to have everything done by the first of June, but we can’t find a construction company that can guarantee that date. We thought we had one for the upstairs rooms, but they suddenly came up with another project – a greenhouse or something – and that’s looking less and less likely. It must be one heck of a greenhouse,” Teddy offered lamely.

Thistle and I exchanged a dubious look. So the greenhouse wasn’t just something to appease Aunt Tillie after all. They were sneaky.

“Have you tried checking construction companies over by Traverse City?” Thistle asked wanly. “I’m sure that, if you pay enough, they’d be willing to drive over here. There’s more than one
construction company in the area.”

“That’s a good idea,” Teddy said. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Thistle said uncomfortably. It’s not like she wanted to admit that the reason they were having trouble finding contractors was due to our mothers.

“Oh, good, you’re here.”

I glanced to the swinging door and saw my father and uncle, Warren, enter the kitchen. They both had big smiles plastered on their faces. They weren’t alone, though. There was a woman with them.

My father walked over to me and gave me a warm hug. I reciprocated and then turned to Warren and the guest. “I’m Bay,” I extended my hand for the woman to shake.

“I’m Karen,” the woman introduced herself, shaking my hand warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you. All three of you.”

“This is Clove and Thistle,” Warren introduced Karen. I took the opportunity to look her up and down as she greeted my cousins. She was an attractive woman, about forty if I had to guess. She had shoulder-length reddish hair and a trim figure. I figured she must be their interior designer, after a few minutes. She had that look about her.

“Are you the interior designer?” Thistle asked the question. I could tell she’d been thinking the exact same thing I had.

“I am,” Karen said after a second, turning to Warren with a question in her eyes.

Warren stepped forward nervously. “She’s also my fiancée,” Warren said, glancing at Clove worriedly.

Oh, well, great.

Clove looked flabbergasted. “You’re engaged?”

“I am,” Warren said carefully. “I was looking for the right time to tell you.”

“And ambushing her at a family dinner sounds like a great way,” Thistle said sarcastically, moving over to Clove’s side protectively and glaring in Warren’s direction.

Uncle Teddy started wringing his hands as he glanced from one surprised face to another. “Let’s everyone just stay calm.”

I looked over at him. “No one’s going to freak out, so you can calm down.”

“I just want to make sure that no one . . . does anything.”

It took me a second to realize what he meant. He was worried one of us was going to somehow hurt Karen magically. Well, now I was pissed off, too.

“What did you think we were going to do?”

Thistle glanced up when she heard the tone of my voice. She realized, right away, what her father had been insinuating. “Really? What did you think we were going to do?”

Uncle Teddy looked lost. “Nothing. I was just . . . this is all going wrong.”

“Let’s all just take a second and relax,” my dad said amiably. “This is just a misunderstanding.”

“What’s a misunderstanding?” Thistle asked. “The way Uncle Warren here ambushed Clove or the way my dad jumped to the conclusion that we would . . . freak out?”

“Neither,” my dad said in an even tone. “I think emotions are just running a little high. It’s a difficult situation.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Clove turned to her dad accusingly.

“I didn’t know how to,” Warren admitted. “We’ve only known each other a few months. We just clicked. I didn’t feel the need to tell you when we were just dating. I wanted to wait until it was serious. We just got engaged yesterday,” he said, glancing at Karen for reassurance. “I was going to wait until dessert to tell you but things just didn’t go that way.”

Clove looked placated, which caused Thistle to take a step back, both physically and emotionally.

“We all are a little on edge around each other,” I said finally. “It’s going to take some time to sort this all out. It’s not going to happen in a few weeks.” Or a few months, I added silently.

Karen looked confused. “I don’t understand what the problem is.”

“We’re just all getting to know each other again,” I supplied. “It’s a daunting task.”

“I understand that,” Karen said. “I just don’t understand what Ted thought you all were going to do.”

Uh-oh.

“Clove is prone to histrionics,” Thistle jumped in. “He just didn’t want anyone making a scene.”

“Hey!” Clove looked like she was about to get histrionic.

“Thistle and I are a little high strung, too,” I said helpfully.

Warren shot me a grateful look. “That’s an exaggeration. It’s just that everyone is . . .”

“On edge?” Karen suggested helpfully.

“Yes,” Warren conceded.

“Yes,” Thistle agreed.

“I think everyone is just hungry,” I said. “We’re having dinner, right?”

“Yeah,” Teddy said, clearly still nervous. “I ordered Chinese. I hope that’s fine with everyone.”

“We love Chinese,” I said honestly.

“Good,” Teddy looked relieved. “We thought about cooking but we don’t have all the supplies out here that we need yet.”

“We understand,” Clove said and then turned to Karen. “Are you from this area?”

“I grew up in Dowagiac,” Karen said, smiling warmly at Clove. “I have a business in Traverse City now. That’s where your fathers found me. I jumped at the chance to help decorate an inn over here. Hemlock Cove is famous throughout this region. It was a great opportunity. There are so many great inns here, to be a part of decorating one was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

“Yeah, there are a lot of great inns around here,” I agreed.

“We want this to be the most popular inn in the area,” Karen continued. “We want it to be the best decorated inn and the one with the best food.”

Thistle and I exchanged wary glances. “I think that title is already taken,” Thistle said finally. “I’m sure the Dragonfly will be popular, though.”

“Taken?” Karen looked confused. “What title?”

“The best inn,” I said briefly, glancing at my father, who was suddenly fixated on something on the wall over my shoulder that didn’t exist.

“What do you mean?” Karen looked baffled.

“Our mothers and aunt own an inn,” Thistle said guardedly “The Overlook.”

“Oh,” Karen looked surprised, and then realization dawned on her. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Thistle said grimly.

“I didn’t realize,” Karen said, casting a dark look in Warren’s direction. My guess was
, he’d been less than truthful with her, too.

“It’s fine,” I said briefly. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course,” Karen said hurriedly, trying to erase her earlier statements. “I’m sure The Overlook is a beautiful inn.”

“It is,” Thistle said, exchanging a tired look with me. “It’s fine, Karen. It’s not a big deal. The Overlook’s reputation is safe and secure.”

“That’s right,” Teddy said boldly. “It’s a great inn.”

“You’ve been there?” Karen turned to him.

“I’ve eaten there a couple of times. Wonderful food,” he turned to me kindly. “With wonderful company.”

Oh, good grief. He was so scared of Aunt Tillie he was worried about what I would tell her. “The company is always colorful,” I agreed.

Thankfully, for all of us, the uncomfortable conversation was interrupted by the sound of something falling in the laundry room.

“What was that?” Warren asked curiously, moving towards the door.

The minute he had it open, I wasn’t surprised to see a familiar figure trying to flee out the back door. Thistle caught sight of her at the same time I did. “Aunt Tillie?”

Aunt Tillie froze when she heard her name and then straightened before she turned around. “What?”

“What are you doing here?”

Warren was regarding Aunt Tillie with cold curiosity and flagrant fear. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the first time he’d seen her since he’d been back in town. This was a great way for them to reconnect, an emotional firestorm.

Aunt Tillie opened her mouth and then shut it. She was trying to think of an acceptable lie. I knew exactly what she was doing here. Spying. “Are you lost?”

Aunt Tillie fixed me with a cold stare. “Are you?”

“No, I know exactly where I am,” I replied.

“So do I,” Aunt Tillie shot back.

“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing here,” Thistle interjected blandly.

Aunt Tillie pursed her lips. “I was looking for the three of you,” she said finally.

“Why?”

“I thought you would be out at the inn for dinner,” she said, sliding into her lie comfortably. “When you didn’t show up, I got worried.”

“Why didn’t you call?” Clove asked.

“I didn’t think of that,” Aunt Tillie said evasively. “You know, when you get old, things like that don’t naturally occur to you.”

It’s funny. Aunt Tillie is only old when it suits her purposes.

My father moved to Aunt Tillie’s side warily. “We were about to have dinner. Would you like to join us?”

Aunt Tillie looked surprised at the invitation. Then she looked intrigued at the opportunity for reconnaissance. “That sounds like a great idea, Jack,” she said. “Thank you for treating an old woman with such kindness and respect.”

Thistle and I rolled our eyes.

“What are we having?”