15. Fifteen #2
“Oh, I’ve had those dreams.” Twila bobbed her head. “All you have to do is blow in her face and yank the dragon’s tail. Then her head gets so big she’s like a balloon and she floats away.”
I blinked.
Mom blinked.
Aunt Tillie blinked back.
Landon looked out from between his fingers and blinked.
“Anyway,” I said. Really, what was I supposed to follow that with? “The woman in my dream looked like Aunt Tillie. She talked like Aunt Tillie. She was on the bluff like Aunt Tillie might be. But she wasn’t Aunt Tillie.”
I focused my full attention on my aunt because I wanted to see her reaction. “She had green eyes.”
Aunt Tillie’s shoulders jerked. She recovered quickly—as quickly as she could—but she couldn’t hide it.
“You know,” I realized out loud. “You know who it is.”
“I need someone to tell me what’s happening,” Mom demanded.
I held Aunt Tillie’s gaze for an extended moment. She didn’t want me to continue. Somewhere, deep down, she recognized I had no choice.
“She calls herself Millie,” I said. “She looks like Aunt Tillie. She talks like Aunt Tillie. If it’s possible, she seems a little meaner than Aunt Tillie. She has none of the fondness for us that Aunt Tillie has.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Aunt Tillie countered. “I’m not all that fond of you.”
“Not Millie again.” Mom shook her head. “Millie isn’t real. Aunt Tillie made her up to get out of trouble years ago.”
“I don’t know what Millie was at the start,” I replied.
“Right now, she’s a threat to us all, because she’s here and she seems determined to cause trouble.
” I couldn’t look away from Aunt Tillie.
“She also said that at one time Aunt Tillie let her out. Then she clawed her back and put her … somewhere that wasn’t out. I’m not sure what she was getting at.”
Slowly, Mom dragged her eyes from me to Aunt Tillie. “What is she saying?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” Aunt Tillie replied. “The girl babbles. She’s always been a babbler. You raised her. You’re responsible for that runaway mouth of hers.”
Mom snagged the back of Aunt Tillie’s shirt before she could slink out of the room. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned. “I need you to be very succinct right now.” Her voice was low and deceptively calm. “How can Millie be real?”
“I don’t know that she is real.” Aunt Tillie shook her head. “Just because Bay dreamed about her … I mean … it’s Bay. She makes things up.”
Mom wasn’t about to be bamboozled. Her tone turned icy. “I’m serious, Aunt Tillie. I need to know what’s going on.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll handle it.” Aunt Tillie adopted an innocent expression. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”
Mom grabbed the finger Aunt Tillie was trying to wave in her face with her free hand. “Don’t push me,” she warned. “Tell me what this is.”
Aunt Tillie swallowed hard, then risked a glance at me. “I’m not sure.”
“Millie either escaped or was created when Aunt Tillie’s memory spell expanded in Mrs. Little’s house,” I supplied. “I saw Aunt Tillie through the window. She was dancing. I realize now her outfit was slightly different from the one the real Aunt Tillie was wearing that night.”
“I told you I wasn’t dancing.” Aunt Tillie had the gumption to act offended. “You owe me an apology.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” I shook my head. “I smell like cake this morning.”
“So mean,” Landon complained.
“I’m going to be fighting off every pervert in the county today,” I complained.
Aunt Tillie’s lips twitched but she didn’t say anything.
“No matter what you pretend, at some point you let Millie out.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t know if you created her as a diversion, if she was some optical illusion that got out of hand.
I don’t know if she’s part of you, although she seems to retain some of your memories.
She talked about how she preferred the old homestead to the inn. ”
Mom’s eyes slitted in Aunt Tillie’s direction. “What did you do?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Aunt Tillie held up her hands. Mom had released her, so she could back toward the door that led to the family living quarters. “I’ve got everything under control.”
“Oh, we’ve heard that before,” I complained. “I’m not falling for it this time.”
“Nobody is,” Mom said. “I want to know what you did.”
“There was a time,” Aunt Tillie wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Now that I know what’s going on, I’ll fix things.”
“How?” I challenged. “If you take back the spell, Mrs. Little will revert to that smelly creature hiding under the blanket. She’s been her normal self, and that’s actually a good thing.”
“I don’t have to undo the spell.” Aunt Tillie waved her hand. “It’s just a little glitch. I handle little glitches all the time. I’ll handle this one.”
“Wait.” I took a step to intercept her, but she was deceptively fast for her age and outstretched me.
“I’ve got this, Bay,” she assured me. “You have nothing to worry about.” With that, she was gone.
“This is not good,” Mom complained.
“I know,” Landon agreed. “I can still smell Bay from over here.”
I ignored him and focused on Mom. “She’s hiding something.”
“Oh, you think?” Mom gave me an incredulous look. “She’s relieved she’s not going insane, but she had no idea this was happening.”
“Which means she has no idea how to fix it,” I guessed.
“We’re in trouble,” Mom said. “Worse trouble than normal. How are we going to explain this to the Feds?”
I looked to Landon for help and found him sniffing Mom’s bread dough. “Seriously?” I shook my head. “You need to either embrace your inner chubby dude or start moderating your portions.”
“You’re not very supportive, Bay,” he complained.
“I have real problems to deal with.” I looked in the direction Aunt Tillie had disappeared. “Something tells me things are going to get worse before they get better.”
“Yes,” Mom agreed on a heavy exhale. “You’re right.”