Chapter 6
THE NEXT TWO WEEKS crept by impossibly slow. A nauseating mix of anticipation and dread conjured a partly cloudy forecast, but I managed to hold off the showers until the wee hours of the night, when I tossed and turned and dwelled over all the ways the baby shower could go horribly wrong.
During the day, decorating the nursery and baking with Asher kept my mood in check.
The shopping helped, too. Zelda whisked Hermosa and I off to a sweet little children’s bookstore in Boston to stock the wittle witch’s library.
We had lunch at a seaside café, and when we returned, Mac and Dylan had moved in all the baby furniture—crib, changing table, rocking chair, and bookshelves.
Asher helped us find homes for all the books, and also a few of Dylan and Drew’s vintage toys, including a creepy old rocking horse I still suspected might be haunted. I’d kept the nursery theme purposefully neutral, making sure any future batlings would feel welcome.
I’d noticed Nathan, Dylan’s half-cousin, making googly eyes at Daisy.
She was a few years older than him, but her Barbie good looks twitterpated all the single guys—and some of the single gals.
I had a feeling there were more batlings in her future.
They wouldn’t necessarily be Hernández batlings, but they would be family nonetheless, and welcome in our home.
Thinking of family always circled my thoughts back to Glinda.
I hadn’t seen or heard from my cousin once in the two weeks since Roger had collected his basket and the invitation for Emmy.
I’d skipped a weekly therapy appointment—partly out of spite, and partly out of shame—but I kept the next just so I could grill Roger about Glinda’s disappearing act.
“She’s been spending more time with her sister,” he confessed. “They’ve done a fair bit of shopping for the baby shower, and I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“She’s avoiding me,” I said, slapping the couch pillows in an aggressive effort to fluff them.
It was becoming harder and harder to find a comfortable position.
I reclined to the side, resting my baby bump on the pile of pillows, only for wittle witch to deliver a jab to my bladder.
I groaned and rearranged the pillows on the other side to try again.
“I don’t think she’s doing it intentionally,” Roger said.
“She’s treating my internal organs like they’re beach balls,” I grumbled.
“Come again?” Roger’s nose twitched and he cocked his head.
“Sorry, I meant the baby—well, I suppose Glinda is, too. My heart is in rough shape, doc. I caved and invited her sister, like she wanted, and then she just ghosted me.”
“I see.” Roger pressed his lips together and sighed. “At the risk of breaking your cousin’s confidence, I believe she’s worried you’ll have a change of heart and uninvite Emmy before the shower. But that’s tomorrow, so I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of her very soon.”
“Or a lot less,” I added under my breath.
If the shower was a disaster, I wasn’t sure my relationship with Glinda would survive it. What was worse, I didn’t even know if Glinda would care. Especially if Emmy invited her to come back to Kansas and Evillene allowed her to return to Gran’s house.
It was what Glinda wanted, wasn’t it? She’d said as much when I last saw her.
I pushed the thought to the back of my mind as I left Roger’s office, hoping to keep the rain away until I made it home from the store with the ingredients for my afternoon of baking with Asher. There were lots of treats to prepare for the shower. And lots of covert extras for stuffing my feelings.
DeeDee’s special pregnancy diet was out the window for now. It was the only way to keep the weather tolerable. It felt like the entire town was holding their breath with me, waiting to see if I’d get a handle on the storm cauldron once the baby arrived.
Orgasmic rainbows were one thing, but the moody blues were bumming everyone out, including my nephew.
“Aren’t you happy to see me, Auntie M?” he asked as I stumbled through the kitchen door, plastic bags in hand. His worried gaze darted to the window above the sink. Rain spattered the glass, and a rumble of thunder threatened more to come.
“So happy!” I assured him, dropping the bags on the counter. I planted a kiss on top of his head and tickled his ribs, earning a squirming giggle. “I’m just nervous about the party tomorrow.”
“Because your meanie cousin is coming?” He climbed onto one of the stools at the island and kicked his feet out, dangling the untied laces of his sneakers.
“Mum is nervous, too. She doesn’t like witches much—well, cept for you and Zelda, and Marge and Sassy.
Not really G’lindy though, cause she’s a meanie, too.
But not the meanie cousin you’re worried about. ..”
There was no keeping secrets with Asher around.
The kid sponged up everything and squeezed it out just as soon as the opportunity arose.
I let him chatter on about good witches and bad witches as I laid out the ingredients for pawpaw doodles and various other goodies, chocolate bat pastries and candied broom pretzels.
Our baking adventures always began the old-fashioned way, with mixing bowls and wooden spoons, flour-dusted aprons and sticky egg shells. But after an hour or so, Asher would beg for my magical fast-forward button.
My navel was currently an outie, thanks to wittle witch, a.k.a.
bitty bat. It protruded through the taut fabric of my blouse.
When my nephew’s patience gave out, he poked my belly button, and I winked the rest of our treats baked in an instant.
I also winked away the mess we’d made, leaving the kitchen spotless.
“These are my favorite,” Asher said around a mouthful of chocolate pastry.
“Besides the pawpaw doodles. And the peanut butter banana balls. And the maple nuts.” He rubbed the back of his hand across his face, smearing a line of chocolate from chin to nostril.
I winked him clean, not wanting to leave Daisy with the chore later.
She was working an extra shift at the Country Club so she could take tomorrow off to help with the shower.
I was really hoping once the baby was here, it would be easier to convince her to move in with Asher.
I suspected we’d see more of Nathan then, too.
Once again, the thought of family brought Glinda to mind, and the kitchen window darkened.
I looked at Ash, grasping for a happy thought to bring back the sun.
“You should fly on home before it gets dark out,” I told him. “Take some of the garlic cheese puffs and dipped pawpaws to share with your mum. She should be off work soon.”
I packed up the goodies in a tea towel so they’d be easier for Asher to carry in his shifted form.
He finished his pastry and hopped off the stool, pausing to give my belly a kiss.
“See you tomorrow, bitty bat,” he said, then turned his bright eyes up at me.
“Thanks for the treats, Auntie M. And don’t worry about your meanie cousin.
If she gives you pimples again, Zelda will zap her bald.
She can do it, too. She’s the Baba Yaga now. ”
“That’s right, buddy.” I ruffled his hair and snagged a pastry before waving him off out the back door with his to-go loot. Then I headed to the shower, hoping some warm suds would keep me happy long enough for the kid to make it home dry.
* * *
THE NURSERY WAS QUICKLY become my happy place. It was truly my finest vision come to life. 3D bat decals dotted the walls in spiral formations in between floating shelves that held framed photographs and a variety of bat plushies Dylan had been collecting since we’d discovered we were expecting.
The crib, changing table, dresser, and rocking chair were black to match the bats against the light lavender-gray paint, but we’d opted for white shelves and trim to go against the bolder plum on the opposite walls. It kept the space from being too dark and broody.
Dozens of books filled the shelves with room for more. A bat and broom mobile hung over the crib, and a fluffy blanket Hermosa had knitted lay over the back of the rocking chair. The wittle witch and I were going to be spending a lot of time up here, and I couldn’t wait.
“This spread is aces,” Daisy said, swiping another cream pastry from the buffet table. She popped it into her mouth before organizing the plates, cups, and matching napkins around the punch bowls to either side of the layered cake in the center.
A second table for gifts waited in the opposite corner, and several party games were laid out on top of the bookshelf beneath the back window. Everything was perfect and in its place, but I still couldn’t shake the sense of dread that tainted my mood and stained the sky outside gray.
“Here’s the last of them,” Nathan announced as he and Dylan brought up another load of folding chairs from the garage. We probably had more than we needed, considering a few of the Shifters I’d invited had bailed at the last minute after learning there would be another West witch in attendance.
Daisy tipped her chin at Nathan in thanks. “You’re a legend, mate.”
His cheeks turned pink, but there was an air of confusion about him, as if he didn’t know how to take being called mate from her. I suspected he’d be discussing it with Dylan while they took Asher bowling. I hoped he was careful around the batling. Those little ears caught everything.
“I’ll keep my phone close,” Dylan promised, giving me a squeeze and a kiss. “Mama is stationed at the front door, but you might want to...”
“I’m right behind you,” I said, catching his drift. Hermosa had come a long way since our first meeting, but my family was not for the faint of heart. I crammed down another pawpaw doodle before working up the nerve to head downstairs.
By the time I made it to the foyer, the first of our guests had arrived—the three batamigas, my favorite of Dylan’s cousins, Mari, Neoma, and Alina. Of course, they were my mother-in-law’s least favorite. But we family outcasts had to stick together.
“Look at you!” Mari gushed, taking in my fancy maternity dress.
The black lace sleeves and purple ruffles matched the nursery.
A little silver bat charm hung from a ribbon around my neck, and matching silver flats hugged my swollen feet.
I was not happy about the state of my ankles, but DeeDee assured me they would return to normal postpartum.
A pantsuit would have offered more coverage, but the dress was just too cute.
I grinned at the compliments and tucked a curl behind my ear. “I’m so glad you all could make it.”
“Still offering up those prayers to St. Nicholas?” Alina asked Mama Hermosa, dotting her cheek with a kiss despite the snarky query about the patron saint of prostitutes.
“Every day, sobrina.” Hermosa returned the kiss with a forced smile.
If only my family played so nice.
Hermosa ushered the batamigas upstairs with their gifts in tow, while I greeted the next round of guests.
“These are from Marg,” Zelda said, handing over a box of frosted cookies. “And Sassy says she’ll drop off her gift in the morning.”
“I brought a few healthy snacks,” DeeDee said, angling her casserole dish so I could see the carrots and rosehips inside.
She shot a judgy sideways glance at Zelda.
Assjacket’s witchiest merely rolled her eyes and lugged her gift bags toward the stairs.
DeeDee followed with an elegant trot to her gait.
I cradled the cookies to my chest and waited for them to reach the second-floor landing before peeling the lid open and shoving an entire frosted pumpkin in my mouth. The sugar melted on my tongue, and the sky outside lightened with the rush of endorphins. But it didn’t last long.
A dark shadow cut across the threshold. I swallowed hard and turned to welcome my next guest, nearly gagging on my own tongue when I saw who it was.
Glinda wiggled her fingers in a sheepish greeting. “Hey, cuz.”
Her sister Emmy stood beside her with a black-ribboned box in her hands and a bored look on her perfect face. “Look at you,” she said, taking in my extended condition with a hitched brow. Coming from her, it was more insult than compliment. Not that I cared at this particular moment.
Behind them, Ingra West, their mother, stood tall and proud in a black riding cloak. She opened her arms wide, broom grasped in one hand, and cackled at my gaping horror.
“Surprise!”