15. Fifteen
FIFTEEN
“ W hat do you mean there are two Aunt Tillies?”
Landon stared me down, abject horror in his eyes. He was shirtless, still in bed—the promised workout never took place, just as I predicted—and waking up slowly. I didn’t give him a chance to adjust before I dropped my dream anvil on him.
“It happened when we were at Mrs. Little’s house.
” I tried to keep my voice calm, even though so many emotions were bubbling inside me that I didn’t know where one started and the next ended.
“She was casting a memory charm, and it got too big. She needed help reining it in. Before that happened, it was like something exploded out of the spell. We didn’t realize it at the time, but it was Millie. ”
“You mean the Millie that Aunt Tillie made up to be her scapegoat?”
“Yes, but…” I thought back to the dream. “Millie made it sound as if she had been free before.”
“Meaning what?”
“I don’t know. I need to find out … and I need to do it away from Steve and Spencer.”
“Crap.” Landon rubbed his cheek, the reality of our situation setting in. “This is bad, Bay. The last thing we need under normal circumstances is two Aunt Tillies. These are not normal circumstances.”
I was right there with him. “I’m not sure Aunt Tillie realizes she has a doppelganger running around. We need to get to her, explain things, and then see what we can do to get rid of Millie.”
“The fact that you’re talking about her as if she’s a separate entity makes me uncomfortable.”
“She is a separate entity.”
“I still don’t like it. Two Aunt Tillies is one and a half too many.”
“Kind of like four and a half abs is three and a half too few?” I adopted an innocent expression. It didn’t fly. Landon was furious.
“Keep it up. You’re the reason I lost my abs.”
“Yes, because I invented bacon … and chocolate cake … and pot roast.”
“Stop it.” He rolled away from me to escape the bed.
“Where are you going?” I demanded to his retreating back.
“You just said that we have to talk to the others away from Steve and Spencer. We have to catch them before breakfast.”
I glanced at the window. The sun was just starting to rise. I hurried to follow him.
“No funny stuff in the shower,” he warned as he turned on the water to let it warm up. “We don’t have time for that. You’re going to have to control yourself.”
I managed to keep a straight face. Just barely. “That’s okay. I only do funny stuff in the shower with men who have eight abs. Six at a minimum.”
“Keep it up,” he said. “You’re going to lose all access to the loving. Just keep pushing me.”
THE FAMILY LIVING QUARTERS WERE QUIET WHEN Landon and I let ourselves in through the back door.
I hadn’t even bothered taking the time to dry my hair.
I braided it while wet, which meant it was going to be kinky tonight when I took it down.
Makeup and shiny hair weren’t high on my current want list.
“What’s that?” Landon asked when I took a step forward to scan the living room.
“What’s what?” I asked.
“That?” He scooted closer, and it took me a moment to realize that he was sniffing my hair. “Oh, man,” he said. “This is just mean.”
“What is it?” I lifted my arm to get a whiff of myself. “What is it?” I asked, trying to keep from panicking.
He gave me a rueful smile. “You smell like freshly-frosted cupcakes.” He was mournful.
“Why would she make you smell so good if she’s trying to punish you?
Why not make you smell like something no one wants?
Like liver and onions. I wouldn’t even let you sleep in bed with me if you smelled like liver and onions. ”
I pinned him with a dubious look. “It’s sweet that you say things like that. Really.” Sarcasm was such an easy weapon to wield. “She made me smell like this because I’m going to attract every man in town, including your boss and Spencer.”
Landon balked. “They would never.”
“They won’t be able to help themselves. Plus, it will be added torture for you.”
“I didn’t do anything to her.” His eyes flashed. “What the hell?”
“We’ll worry about that later.” I pushed forward toward the kitchen, and was relieved to find Mom, Marnie, and Twila kneading dough.
Surprise registered on Mom’s face. “You’re early. Winchester isn’t even up yet. He’s sleeping with Terry.”
Landon’s morning went from bad to worse. “He stole my dog? Well, this is just great.”
“Be thankful he didn’t steal your abs,” Twila said. “You would be really upset about that.”
“Yes, how was your workout this morning?” Marnie asked dryly. Her condescending tone told me she knew it hadn’t happened.
“Oh, stuff it.” Landon looked around. It was too early in the morning for bacon. He almost seemed relieved. “You should make something healthy for breakfast this morning.” He looked pained when he said it.
“Like oatmeal?” Mom asked blandly.
Landon cringed. “Well, not oatmeal. There has to be something between oatmeal and a big pile of bacon and eggs.”
“Fresh fruit?” Mom suggested.
“Stop torturing me,” Landon whined. “Maybe I should start working out twice a day. Then I’ll be able to eat whatever I want.”
“That’s a myth.” I gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “It’s fine. I like the four-and-a-half-pack.”
“I can’t even look at you, Bay.” He shook his head. “I never knew you could be so hurtful.”
I left him to pout and focused on Mom. “Where is Aunt Tillie?”
“Ah, the question of the morning.” Mom took on a dark expression. “She is staging a protest. She refuses to eat with us.”
“So she’s cooking for herself? She doesn’t do that.”
“She doesn’t,” Mom agreed. “She said she’s not going to take anything from us given the current state of affairs in the house. That includes advice.”
“She’s afraid. She doesn’t have to be. I kind of figured things out last night.”
“You figured what out?”
Now that I was in front of my mother, the news that had filled me with such relief felt like an anchor around my neck. Would she be relieved? “Well…” I scratched my cheek, debating how best to deliver the information.
“Just spit it out, Bay,” Mom chastised. “We don’t have all morning. I have to make oatmeal for Landon.”
“The horror!” Landon threw himself in Aunt Tillie’s chair and covered his face.
I shot him a dirty look—he was really playing it up for his audience—then glared at my mother. “Do you have to get him going? He’s kind of like Aunt Tillie. Once he realizes he has an audience he can’t stop himself from going for the biggest performance in his arsenal.”
“Okay, that’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Landon lamented. “Right there. I’m going to have it put on a shirt.”
“Geez, is it going to be like this every morning when you don’t have bacon?” Mom complained. “If so, you should embrace the no-abs life. At least you have a charming personality when there’s bacon involved. This whiny monster you’re becoming is not pleasant.”
I had to bite my lower lip to keep from laughing at the betrayed look on Landon’s face.
“I see how it is,” he said. “All the love you had for me was fake. You only cared when I was eating the bacon. I won’t forget this.”
Mom made a face before focusing on me. “He’s kind of the male version of Clove.”
I had to think about it, and I didn’t like the realization. “Man,” I groaned, “how did that happen?”
“I don’t know, but you’ve mated with King Kvetch for life.” Mom threw her hands in the air. “You tell me what’s going on with your great-aunt right now.”
That’s when I realized this icy exterior she was putting on display was because she was worried about Aunt Tillie. No matter what she’d said the previous evening, she had been afraid. She wouldn’t be able to keep a brave face for much longer. It was time to put her out of her misery.
“Aunt Tillie isn’t going crazy,” I started. “That’s the good news. She’s also not terrorizing Clove or doing costume changes downtown.”
“Ha!” Aunt Tillie came roaring into the kitchen, dressed for mischief in combat helmet and camouflage pants. She’d been listening at the door. “I told you! Bow before your queen and beg for forgiveness.”
Mom’s only response was to arch an eyebrow.
“Somebody should bow,” Aunt Tillie complained. Her eyes moved to Landon, who was still in her chair. “What’s with Whiny McWhinypants?”
“He doesn’t have an eight-pack but he doesn’t want to give up bacon,” I replied. “He’s having a crisis of faith or maybe a temper tantrum. I’m not sure.”
“It’s definitely the latter.” Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes at him and focused on me. “What made you come to your senses and realize Clove was lying?’
“Clove wasn’t lying,” I replied. “I never thought she was.”
Aunt Tillie crossed her arms over her chest. She suspected a double cross. I could tell that by the way her nostrils flared. “You just said I wasn’t crazy. Now you’re saying I am.”
“I’m not.” I shook my head. “I had a dream last night.”
“Oh, here we go.” Aunt Tillie screwed up her face in disgust. “If I have to hear about you and your boytoy doing dirty things in dreamland I’m going to throw up … all over both of you.”
“It wasn’t that type of dream,” I assured her.
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, Bay,” Mom complained when I didn’t immediately come out with the information. “If we’re going to have to put Aunt Tillie in a straitjacket and secure a room with padded walls, we should know about it soon.”
Aunt Tillie’s face filled with rage. “I cannot believe you said that to me. You’ll be in a room with padded walls long before me.”
“Nobody is going in a room with padded walls,” I fired back. “I’m not telling you about the dream to be weird. I’m telling you so you understand.” I took a deep breath. “I should’ve started out by saying that I had a visitor in my dream last night.”
Mom stopped what she was doing and stared. “A real visitor?”
“Yes, although I didn’t realize it at the start. I thought I was talking to Aunt Tillie.”