Chapter 7
I LICKED THE FROSTING from my teeth and cleared my throat, swallowing a second and third time before I finally found my voice.
“Surprise would be an understatement.” I waved my cousins and aunt inside since I didn’t know what else to do. Also, it had begun to rain, and I didn’t have the heart to leave them out in rotten weather of my own making. That’s what we non-wicked witches did, I supposed.
“Lovely day for a baby shower,” Ingra noted, admiring my unintentional handiwork before I closed the front door. She took in the foyer and living room with less obvious disgust than my mother had, but I didn’t miss how she paused on the white curtains and floral pillows on the sofa.
“Can I take your brooms or cloaks?” I offered.
“No munchkins to do that for you, dear?” Ingrid tutted sympathetically.
She was taller than my mother, but less foreboding, no matter how much black she wore.
The bun at the base of her neck and Victorian dress were West staples, but there was something lacking in her aura that Nessa and Evillene shared.
It inspired a clenching sensation in the bladder region.
Ingra handed over her broom and stripped out of her cloak. My cousins followed her lead.
Glinda was dressed more traditionally than I was used to, trading her usual biker attire for a simple black dress with balloon sleeves and a modest collar.
Surprisingly, Emmy wore a black pantsuit under her cloak, which seemed to draw more of her mother’s ire than my good-witch décor.
Her dark hair was slicked back in a French twist, and a dab of makeup emphasized the beauty mark above her lip. She looked fit for Dracula’s runway.
“Europe seems to have agreed with you,” I commented, hoping my flattery was sincere enough that she didn’t take offense and hex me with warts.
“Yeah,” she replied cooly. “I’m going back next summer.”
“Don’t start in with that nonsense again,” Ingra hissed under her breath as I tucked their brooms and cloaks away in the guest closet.
I hadn’t been privy to the family drama for some time, but I certainly didn’t see the problem with Emmy being far, far away on another continent, where my name hopefully never even crossed her mind.
“The party is set up in the nursery on the third floor,” I said, pointing the way for them to walk ahead of me. I wasn’t stupid enough to give any of them my backside, but it also gave me the chance to grab Glinda’s wrist and hold her behind a few steps.
“Seriously?” I mouthed once I had her attention.
“Sorry,” she mouthed back with a helpless shrug. She opened a hand at Emmy’s back, and then Ingra’s. It was an easy puzzle to put together. Our family was tricky, but predictably so.
I was just glad Broomzilla was napping in the belfry. She’d be shedding bristles all over the place if she knew how many West witches were under our roof right now.
“Ingra West,” Zelda greeted my aunt curtly as we entered the nursery. “And you must be Emmy,” she added, nodding to Glinda’s sister. “Welcome to Assjacket, home of the Baba Yaga and company.”
“Much obliged,” Ingra said with a nod. “Your munchkins here are certainly...unique.”
“Shifters,” Zee corrected her. “Yes, they are unique, and they are all under my protection. Capiche?”
“Of course, of course,” Ingra stammered. “I’m simply here to dote on my niece and bestow gifts on her unborn. As family is wont to do, yes?” She patted the ribboned box Emmy still held.
“G’day,” Daisy greeted my aunt and cousins.
She was using her best hostess voice from the Country Club, but her pupils were fully dilated with so much witchy attention at once.
“You must be the rellies I’ve heard so much about.
The gift table is over there,” she said, hiking a thumb over her shoulder before pointing to the other side of the nursery.
“Help yourselves to some punch and sweets. We’ll be starting the games soon. ”
The games have already started, I thought dryly. My family were just the only ones playing right now.
* * *
AFTER A ROUND OF AWKWARD introductions, in which Mama Hermosa called Ingra Sangria and then Ingrid before getting her name right, the party progressed as planned, with snacks and chitchat and admiration of the newly renovated nursery.
I had to admit, watching Ingra and Emmy fix their own plates and seat themselves was more amusing than I’d expected.
I’d forgotten how much they all relied on the staff at Gran’s house.
Of course, when they weren’t relying on the hired help, they had expected me to use my useless domestic magic to fix everything from afternoon tea to tattered riding leathers.
Even Isaac had demanded that I wink the mud from his boots after he’d tried to off me.
I shuddered and thanked the Wizard that baby showers were only for female relatives.
The conversation between my batty in-laws and witchy outlaws remained cordial enough under Zelda’s careful watch. Neoma even got in a brownie point with Emmy by recognizing the Italina designer who’d fashioned her pointy heels.
Then Daisy kicked the games off with a round of guess mommy’s waist size, where each guest tore off a length of tissue paper as their estimate.
Glinda was the big winner, gloating over a jar of chocolate candies until she noticed her mother’s sardonic stare.
Another harmless game of batling bingo ended with DeeDee receiving a flower arrangement that she munched on as Daisy passed out notecards for the last game.
“Since Mummy and Daddy bat haven’t decided on a name yet, this game should hopefully give them some good ideas,” Daisy said.
“Write down your favorite. We’ll toss them in the baby bonnet and see how many Margo can match up with her guests.
Then she’ll pick her favorite, and the winner will get the last jar of lollies. ”
“Of course they haven’t chosen a name yet,” Ingra snorted, accepting a notecard from Daisy with an incredulous smirk.
“That doesn’t happen until after the baby is born and evaluated by her elders.
And she will have to have a traditional West name, not something so ridiculous as—Yanet,” she said, shooting a snooty look over Hermosa’s shoulder.
“No peeking, bruja.” Mama Hermosa pulled her notecard out of view. “And my granddaughter will be a Hernández, not a West.”
The pressure in the room shifted as my heart rate began to climb, but I counted backward from ten until I could trust my voice not to spill out in a shriek.
“I’m not going back to Kansas, for a naming ceremony or otherwise,” I stated, locking my gaze on Ingra’s. I was not the meek little witch she knew from Kansas.
“Don’t be absurd,” my aunt cackled. “Redrick will want to meet his granddaughter, and as the head of our family, it’s his right to bestow her name—”
“It’s just a silly party game,” Glinda told her mother. “She’s not really choosing the bay’s official name today.”
“I might,” I countered, feeling brave with the Baba Yaga in my literal corner. Zelda’s attention perked even as she stuffed a bite of cake into her mouth. She chewed slowly, watching the match unfold like a referee at the sidelines.
Glinda scowled at me, clearly annoyed that I wasn’t cowering for her sake. But this was my party, and I’d only agreed to invite her sister. Letting her mother push me around had not been part of the deal.
“I like Elphie,” Emmy said, filling out her notecard as if she hadn’t noticed the sleet suddenly pelting the nursery windows.
Ingra had. She clucked her tongue in disapproval. “If you had stayed in Kansas, Evillene could have helped you learn how to control the sky cauldron by now.”
“I can control it just fine,” I said through clenched teeth, punctuating my point with a roll of thunder. My gaze was still locked on Glinda. This was her fault, but the disgruntled look still creasing her face told me she wasn’t nearly sorry enough. Yet.
“With your mother exiled from the family home, I thought you’d be thrilled to return,” Ingra continued, not taking the hint. “Nessa really was quite cruel—even more cruel than was natural for a West witch.”
“Your son attempted to drown me,” I reminded her. The storm kicked up another notch, drawing nervous glances from my guests—the non-West guests, anyway.
“Harmless waterplay.” Ingra waved her note card dismissively.
“I suppose if this is just a game, Mombi will do. That was almost your name, but your gran vetoed your father’s suggestion and went with something more mundane.
I bet she would have chosen differently if she’d known you would inherit the sky cauldron. ”
My face felt like it was melting, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. DeeDee noticed from across the room and motioned her hands upward, signaling me to take a deep breath like she did in the birthing classes.
Breathe in... one, two, three... breathe out... one, two, three...
The sleet turned to hail just as Zelda finished her slice of cake.
“Okay, ladies and trollops!” she announced.
“Margo will have to review your favorite names and open gifts later, after a much-needed nap. She clearly needs to rest. Thank you all for coming!” She waved her hands, encouraging my batty relatives to take the lead and exit the nursery before my storm ripped it clean off the house.
“Very well,” Ingra sighed, relenting with more grace than my mother had. She dusted the crumbs from her dress as she stood and turned to Glinda. “I presume you still want to introduce us to your pet rabbit before we leave?”
“Yes, Mother.” Glinda dipped her head submissively, and a pang of sympathy stabbed me in the chest. Or maybe that was just the wittle witch. Her sucker punches were extra violent today.
“Watch out for falling houses. I’ll meet you at the Country Club,” Glinda told her mother and sister. She lingered behind, clearly wanting a moment alone with me, much to Zelda’s annoyance. The Baba Yaga paused in the doorway, watching Emmy and Ingra disappear down the stairs.
“It’s fine, go ahead,” I told her, not trusting my family would behave around the unattended Shifters at the club. Though, at the moment, I also didn’t trust myself not to sweep the club and all of Assjacket away in a cyclone.
“Great party,” Zelda said, giving me a sarcastic two thumbs up. “Always a blast when your family comes to town.”
“I know, Zee. Sorry.” My face burned hotter, out of embarrassment this time. But it shifted back to wrath once Glinda and I were alone in the nursery.
“How long have you known your mother was going to tag along?” I demanded, propping my fists on my hips. I was sure I looked like a squatting toad with my belly filling the space between us.
“It was a last-minute decision.” Glinda grabbed her waist, mirroring my defensive posture. “Did you really have to go all Almira over it? You couldn’t have just kept things vague to placate her?”
“You mean like you did?” I accused, waving a hand at her suck-up dress. “Yes, Mother,” I mocked in a whiny voice. “She called Roger your pet rabbit. That didn’t sound like hyperbole to me.”
“It’s a starting point,” she admitted. “I’m hoping his transformation will...impress her.”
“You’re hoping you can pass him off as a warlock.” I gasped at the realization. “You’re a liar.”
“You’re one to talk,” she threw back at me. “I thought you wanted to keep the West naming tradition. You said so yourself.”
“With you!” I finally snapped, yelling in her face. “I wanted to keep Gran’s traditions alive with you. I don’t need my father, your mother, or anyone else in our wicked family to give this baby a name. I wanted you to be there.”
“Oh.” The fight drained from Glinda’s face. “Well... Unfortunately, I don’t think that ceremony will be opening any doors back into the family.”
“Holy poppy fields,” I groaned as wittle witch jabbed my bladder again. It was sharper this time.
“Holy poppy fields,” Glinda echoed, her eyes going wide as a puddle formed between my silver flats.