Chapter 16
EAT THE FUCKING CUPCAKE
Maggie
“Hey Mom, look, I made your favorite Christmas cupcakes.” I held out the platter of perfectly decorated cupcakes topped with little Mr. & Mrs. Santa Claus figurines, tiny reindeer, and even a few elves working away at their toy stations.
I hated every second of making them. But she was still my mom—and even though I despised how Christmas was an amalgamation of pagan practices stolen for the sake of Christianity, I wanted to do something to show her I was fine with a little of Christmas at my Yule party.
“Oh, how sweet, thank you, dear.” She took a sip of champagne before picking up a cupcake.
My breath held as she clasped the cupcake liner with her red-and-white striped nails, peeled it back, and took a bite.
At first, I thought I’d done it—I’d given her something that would make her at least a little thankful for the work I put into it tonight. But it was a short-lived dream.
“Oh, honey. Your frosting’s a little dry, and you could have added more vanilla, they’re a bit bland, and frankly your little…
elves, are they? They look like demons.” She scrunched up her face and chuckled, eyeing Annie and the others as she set the half-eaten cupcake back on the platter before dusting the crumbs from her fingers and returning to Jeremiah and his wife by the fireplace.
Graham caught the entire exchange and marched over to my mother.
Oh, God.
He said something my mom didn’t like, but I could barely hear him, so I leaned out of the kitchen.
“…she worked really hard on making today a special day for you and your family, and I can’t stand to see her heartbroken.
So the least you could do is put on a fake smile and eat the fucking cupcake without any complaints.
Got it? She’s barely holding it together as it is.
At first, I thought she was overreacting—until I actually met you.
She wasn’t. The way you put everyone else on a pedestal except her, I’m surprised she’s even allowed you into her home.
Cause I sure as hell wouldn’t allow you in mine. ”
“Well, I never—”
“I’m not done speaking,” he said, aggravation etched in his brow. “If she ever did want to invite you back, I’ll make sure to talk her out of it—show some fucking appreciation.”
Mom stood appalled, smoothing her short brown hair before holding hand on her heart like he’d just slapped her.
“Do you speak to all women like that… Officer… Locke?” she said like bringing his profession into it was some sort of threat.
His eyebrow rose. “Only if they deserve it.”
“…and your commanding officer is aware?”
Oh God, Mom, what are you doing?
“Yes, he’s very aware.”
“It doesn’t bother him?”
“Look, lady, apparently not… because he keeps calling me back for photoshoots and stripteases to make money for the goddamn precinct.”
No. Nononononononono! Why’d you have to say that? You were doing so well.
“I don’t think I like your kind hanging around my daughter.” Mom left the conversation, shoving past him and headed back to the kitchen.
I dove back in and acted like I was straightening something on the butcher block.
“Magdalene, did you know that officer friend of yours is a…” She lowered her voice. “…a stripper?”
My eyes darted to Graham, whose glare at my mother was sharp enough to cut glass, then back to Mom.
“Yeah, Mom.” I swallowed. “I did.”
“And you invited him to dinner?” she asked quizzically. The disapproval in her voice was so thick I thought she was about to choke on it. “Maggie, you have no idea where he has been and what kind of filth he rolls around with.”
I picked up a cupcake and shoved it in my face, staring blankly at her and nodding as she continued rambling about how I should’ve been more careful with the type of people I kept close to me, how she still disapproved of my moving here, and how this was all too much for me—too much for her.
I was being reckless, causing her unnecessary stress, and needed to start thinking about when I was going to put the Manor on the market.
Not knowing what else to do and not wanting to start a fight with her, I did what I did best. I turned my back to her while she moved on to informing the rest of the household what all was wrong with me, my life, and my friends—even the ones she was staring directly at.
A complete chicken...
A useless chicken…
I took that entire platter of cupcakes into the sunroom where I could lock myself in, tug the curtains shut, and pull out my phone so I could doomscroll, just so I didn’t have to think for two seconds about pleasing her.
It had been about fifteen minutes and at least six more of those perfectly flavored—perfectly moist—cupcakes had been devoured. And those elves? They looked nothing like demons. They were full of Christmas cheer and Yuletide wonder.
The tears welled behind my lashes, but they didn’t fall. Pretty sure it was anger, tearing me up inside—no—rage. I bit into another cupcake, then aimed my finger at one of the elves and flicked its tiny head through the air straight into my monstera.
A soft knock at the door jump-started my heart.
“Open the door, Sugs, it’s only me,” Annie said, her voice warm and calm and exactly what I needed.
I unlocked the door and cracked it open. “Want a demonic elf cupcake?” I held up the half-eaten one with a headless elf poking from the frosting.
She let out a breath and sat beside me on the papasan.
“Now, I know you ain’t got me sitting out there all alone with your family lookin’ like a goddamn Little Debbie Christmas Tree cake for nothin’.
” She ran her hands down her white-and-red striped sweater, like she was presenting it to me for the first time.
“What’s goin’ on, darlin’? Is it the murders? ”
“First off, you wear that sweater every year.” I scrunched my face in disgust. “You love that hideous thing.”
“I do, don’t I?” She smiled, nodding.
“Second. It’s not the murders… I’m not scared this time, not really, anyway. It’s Graham… and Hunter… and Mom… and Jeremiah… and… and… Gemma? What the fuck even is that?” I sighed. “It’s all of them. No matter what I do, nobody cares and I’m just the big disappointing joke of the family.”
“Now, honey, you know as well as I do that just ain’t true.” Annie put an arm around my shoulder. “They’re here, ain’t they? They don’t necessarily understand your version of Christmas, or maybe even your life choices, but they’re here. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
“But Annie, I don’t want them here—at least not my family. I went through all this trouble, and it feels like it doesn’t even matter because I did everything wrong.”
“Tell me what you did, cause I sure as hell don’t see it.”
“Well, these cupcakes for starters.”
“What ‘bout them cupcakes?”
“They’re bland…” I examined one. “And demonic apparently.”
“Who you tryin’ to impress? The queen? Well guess what, darlin’…
the queen’s dead,” she said matter of fact, turning to the side and looking at me with her brow cocked, and a hand on her hip.
“And Graham sure didn’t seem to mind when he snuck three of those cupcakes before you even had the cellophane off—neither did your father or Miss Gemma when they followed right behind him. This ‘bout your mama, innit?”
I shrugged.
“I think this whole blasted thing is about trying to get that woman to respect you, and child, I think you wastin’ your breath on her. Some family—no matter how much their blood look like yours—is just sour.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“What d’you mean, you guess? Quit worrying ‘bout what your mama thinks—cause it don’t amount to a hill of beans—and live the life that you want to.
Girl you ‘bouts to be forty in a few years and I still don’t see none of them chil’ren you fittin’ to be havin’ soon.
I gots lots of spoilin’ left in me, and I’m not about to use it up on Hunter.
You best find a way to break that spell before that mighty fine officer breaks him first.”
“Yeah, that’s a problem. Hunter was really great to me—”
“What you mean… was?”
“He was kind and caring and thoughtful. But once Graham came back… he changed.”
“How so?”
“He’s jealous of Graham.” I fidgeted with the wrapper on another cupcake. “So jealous… that he doesn’t want me to even be alone in the same room as him.”
“Does he got anything to worry ‘bout?”
“No. I mean. I don’t know.” I fell back into the cushion. “I’d never intentionally cheat on him, or on anyone. I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that, and I just can’t.” I sighed. “But I almost did. Twice.”
Annie blew out a breath and sat back with me. “Alright, let me have it, git it off your chest.”
I hesitated. “At the awards in the alley… Graham and I… we got close… too close.”
She adjusted in her seat. “Mmkay—”
“And… Hunter and I invited him into our bed with us.”
“Lord—child.” She grabbed a pillow and fanned herself.
“Let’s just say there are certain rules Hunter has… and Graham was about to break them… and I wasn’t going to stop him.”
She sat forward. “Looks to me like you’ve got yerself quite the problem then, don’t ya?”
The paint flaked off the edge of my thumbnail as I picked at it.
“Lemme tell ya sumtin’, sugs.” Annie took my hands in hers. “Yer just going to have to tell Hunter the truth. No sense in torturing all three of ya. When really, you and Hunter need a break.”
“That’s just it, Annie. He can’t give me a break.
He can’t back off. Just like all the other men, he can’t let go.
He’s bound to me, and I can’t find a single thing in any of the books Uncle Silas or the Aunts have.
Even the old witches over in Salem haven’t a clue about it either. It’s hopeless. I’m royally fucked.”
“Don’t you worry, girl. We’ll git ya sorted out.
I can stay a few extra days if you need me to.
” Annie patted me on the knee, got up, and opened the door—her signal for me to quit wallowing and move on.
“I’ll give you five more minutes to wipe that cake off your face and get back out there.
Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes, and I’ll be fit to be tied if I end up stuck between your parents and Miss Gemma. ”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Dammit, girl.” She scowled at me.
I sighed. “Annie, it’s been over twenty years… unfortunately… you’re a ma’am now.”
“Oh—hush. I ain’t never had this much trouble gittin’ my point across. I ain’t no ma’am ’til I’m dead in the ground.”