wicked witches 06.9 - you only witch once (2 page)

Willa was our aunt by blood, the youngest sister behind Aunt Tillie and our mother. While Aunt Tillie took over maternal duties to make sure we were taken care of after our mother’s death, Aunt Willa became nothing more than a semi-familiar face we saw only during family reunions and extended holidays. Her granddaughter, Rosemary, was her spitting image – in temperament and looks. What do I mean by that? Just wait.

“Marnie,” Aunt Willa said, pursing her lips. “You look … older.”

And there you go.

Marnie scowled. “Thank you.”

“Twila. Winnie.” Aunt Willa nodded in turn to us, her shoulders stiff. “You look older as well.”

“I guess that can be said about all of us,” I said, forcing my face to remain placid. As tempestuous as Aunt Tillie is, she’s much easier to be around than Aunt Willa. “I hate to say it, but I forgot Rosemary was coming this year.”

“Well, I remember how much Nettie loved this camp when she was a girl,” Willa said, referring to her daughter. “I thought Rosemary might like a couple of days in the great outdoors.”

Despite growing up in Hemlock Cove, Aunt Willa opted to move south with her husband and family twenty years earlier. She landed in mid-Michigan, but she still drops in when she feels like it – which is usually right around the time we’re feeling happy and content. She likes to ruin that for us.

At fourteen, Rosemary is tall and gangly for her age. Her long hair is blond, but reddish streaks are starting to infiltrate the flaxen masses. Her green eyes are set far apart, and instead of general mischief, they’re tinged with overt disdain. She looks down on us and our children by association. All of that stems from Aunt Willa’s hateful tongue.

She’s only a child, I reminded myself. It’s not her fault. She was raised to be suspicious of us. She’s probably a good kid in a bad situation. I tell myself these things every time I see Rosemary, which – thankfully – isn’t very often. There’s still something off about her.

“Is your summer going well, Rosemary?” I asked.

“It was until I found out I had to come here,” Rosemary said, making a face. “Now it sucks. Big time.”

“Her nose is just a little out of joint,” Aunt Willa explained. “She’s not a big fan of nature.”

“I guess that makes summer camp a great fit for her,” Marnie snarked.

Aunt Willa ignored her. “I’ll pick her up at the end of camp. She doesn’t eat saturated fats and we try to go light on the carbs with her. She tends to carry weight in her thighs if we’re not careful.”

That sounded … terrible.

“All we have are saturated fats and carbs,” Marnie said. “We’re not going shopping just for her.”

“I thought you would say that,” Aunt Willa said, lifting a cooler. “This is food specifically tailored to Rosemary’s digestive needs. There’s a note with instructions in her bag. I trust you’ll follow my instructions to the letter.”

Aunt Willa leaned over and mashed a cold kiss into Rosemary’s cheek. “Have a good time.”

Rosemary nodded obediently. “I will.”

“Wait, don’t you want to see Aunt Tillie before you go?” Twila asked. “She’s here.”

“I have no inclination to see my sister,” Aunt Willa said. “I’m sure you can pass on my … greeting.”

“Sure,” I said. “Have a nice couple of days, Aunt Willa.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

Two

“Do you think we can trust these kids to grill their own hot dogs?” Marnie asked, glancing around the campsite worriedly. “I’m thinking that fire and hot metal sticks could be dangerous.”

I hadn’t thought of that. “We’ll have to watch them,” I said.

“Or we could grill the hot dogs ourselves,” Marnie countered. “I’d rather do the work than try to dig a flaming stick out of Lila’s eye if Thistle loses her temper.”

I hate it when she’s right. “Okay, we’ll grill the hot dogs. Have you seen Aunt Tillie?”

“She’s helping Bay, Clove and Thistle unpack,” Twila said.

“Does she know about Rosemary yet?”

Twila shook her head, her bright red hair flashing against the green backdrop. “I thought you would want to tell her.”

Marnie snorted. “You mean you were too scared to tell her,” she said. “You know very well that Aunt Tillie is going to have a fit when she finds out Rosemary is here. She hates that kid.”

“We all hate that kid,” I muttered.

Marnie pursed her lips. “It’s not Rosemary’s fault that Nettie and Aunt Willa raised her to be so … cold.”

“I know that,” I said. “I’m constantly reminding myself of that every time I see that girl. But still, she’s … odd.”

“Bay, Clove and Thistle are odd, too,” Twila said. “I happen to like odd.”

“Rosemary is evil odd, though,” I said.

“You might want to keep thoughts like that to yourself,” Marnie said. “Rosemary is going to report back on every little thing we do. You’re only going to give Aunt Willa more ammunition if you’re mean to her.”

“I have no intention of being mean to her,” I said. “Do you think I’m a monster?”

“You have your moments,” Marnie said. “I don’t think you’ll be mean to her, though. I still think you might want to keep your distance.”

“Does that mean you’re going to take Rosemary in all your groups?”

“Of course not,” Marnie said, making a face. “I can’t stand that kid. She’s going to have to be Twila’s problem.”

“I think you guys are overreacting,” Twila said. “Rosemary is going to loosen up now that she’s away from Nettie and Aunt Willa for a few days. Just wait and see.”

Marnie flicked the end of Twila’s nose, causing her sister to jump back. “What was that for?”

“I’m trying to see whether your rose-colored glasses are invisible,” Marnie said. “It’s nice that you have faith Rosemary is a good kid. I don’t share that faith. Speaking of Rosemary, which cabin is she in?”

“I put her in the first cabin,” Twila said.

“Uh-huh.” Marnie glanced over her shoulder, making sure it was still only the three of us within hearing distance. “Did she talk to any of the girls when got in there?”

“Yeah,” Twila said. “She was friendly. In fact, she seemed to make instant friends with a few of the girls.”

“Which girls?”

“Hope Daniels and Lila Stevens.” Twila realized what she said. “Oh, crap.”

“Lila Stevens?” My voice sounded squeaky. “Are you telling me Lila and Rosemary are hanging out?”

“Well, that can’t be good,” Marnie said. “That means evil is joining with evil. Everyone should run for their lives now.”

I shot her a look. “We’re going to have to watch them,” I said. “They’re going to cause trouble. They were going to cause trouble apart, but now that they’re together they’re going to cause bigger trouble. We can adapt. We can deal with it.”

“I have a better idea,” Marnie said, turning and moving toward the cabins.

“What?” I asked, worried.

Marnie didn’t answer. Instead, she opened her mouth and let loose a bellow that could be heard three counties away. “Aunt Tillie!”

“I CAN’T
believe that little … .”

“Don’t call Rosemary names,” Twila warned. “It’s not fair. She’s still just a child.”

Aunt Tillie gripped her hands together, trying to remain calm. “Fine. I can’t believe that little ray of sunshine is our problem for the next few days. I just … why didn’t you tell me?”

“I honestly forgot,” I said. “I was going to tell you last week, and then Donna went missing. Everyone was so worried about her that everything else fell by the wayside. Then, when we decided to run the camp ourselves, it got lost in all the stuff we had to prepare.”

“You should have sent her away,” Aunt Tillie said.

“We couldn’t do that,” I said. “It’s an open camp. We can’t single out one child and ban her.”

“I could have,” Aunt Tillie said.

“We know,” Marnie said. “That’s why we’ve decided that you’re the one who gets to … deal … with Rosemary and Lila if they get out of hand.”

Aunt Tillie arched an eyebrow. “Lila?”

“Apparently Rosemary and Lila have hit it off,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “It seems they may have found something they like about one another.”

“I’m guessing it’s bitchiness,” Aunt Tillie muttered.

I tilted my head to the side, sending her a mental admonishment. I knew she couldn’t read my mind, but I hoped she could read my expression. It didn’t work.

“I’d be glad to take over the punishment of Lila and Rosemary,” Aunt Tillie said. “Leave it to me.”

I grabbed her arm. “We didn’t say you could punish them,” I said. “We want you to watch them, and if they get out of hand you can report back to us. We’ll deal with it.”

“Sure.”

Aunt Tillie was never this easy. “Sure?”

“I’d be happy to watch over the little … darlings. I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. It gives an old woman purpose in the face of her dwindling years. Now I can go to my deathbed knowing that my true purpose in life was to act as babysitter and snitch at summer camp.”

Sarcasm is a family trait, and the Winchester witches have it in surplus. Instead of calling Aunt Tillie on her dramatic retelling of the facts, though, I opted to ignore it. “I’m glad you understand. Thank you so very much.”

Marnie snickered. “This is going to be a great couple of days,” she said. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“We should really get lunch moving,” Twila said. “What time is Terry bringing the boys over?”

Crap! That was another thing I’d forgotten about.

Detective Terry Davenport was an old friend from high school. He was older than us by a few years, but he’d been an invaluable confidant as we traversed adulthood. He’d taken a position at the Hemlock Cove Police Department right after graduating from the police academy in Traverse City, and he’d been working his way up the ranks.

Because he was a good man, Terry donated his time with various children’s groups. He was the one who initially reopened the campground from our childhood, bringing groups of boys from southern urban areas up for hiking, fishing and swimming weekends. He said city kids deserved a chance to enjoy the country, too.

Once Donna Wilder took over the girls’ cabins, the two camps – separated by a small lake – ran in conjunction. While day-to-day activities were mostly separate, meals were served together to save on food bills and work hours.

“I can’t believe I forgot Terry was bringing the boys over,” I said. “He said he would be here around one. What time is it now?”

Marnie glanced at her watch. “He should be here in a half hour. That means we need to get the potato salad, buns and condiments ready. We should also round up the girls and get them out of the cabins. They’ve been in there since they arrived. What do you think they’re doing?”

“Plotting the downfall of mankind,” Aunt Tillie said, grabbing a radish from the vegetable tray Twila unwrapped.

“Oh, good,” I deadpanned. “You’ll fit right in. It’s your job to get the girls out here. Count them. Make sure we don’t lose any.”

Aunt Tillie jumped to her feet and clicked her heels together, mock saluting as she sent me a saucy wink. “Yes, ma’am.”

I bit my lip to keep my temper in check. Sometimes it feels as if there are four children in the house. “Thank you.”

Once she was gone, I turned to Marnie. “She’s going to drive me insane before this is all said and done.”

“That’s what she’s trying to do,” Marnie said. “She’s good when she has a task she wants to fulfill.”

“We need to find something to keep her busy over the next few days,” I said. “I don’t know what that is, but we need to put our heads together.”

“Let’s get through lunch first,” Marnie suggested. “How many kids does Terry have at his camp this week?”

“Um … twelve I think,” I said.

“Oh, well, thirty girls and twelve boys,” Marnie mused, “that seems like a great way to foster female togetherness.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s those hormones Twila was talking about,” Marnie said. “All the girls here are of an age when they’re boy crazy. There won’t be enough boys to go around. How do you think that’s going to end?”

That was a problem I hadn’t considered. “They’re not even going to be around the boys all that long,” I said. “It will be fine.”

“Sure,” Marnie said, moving her face closer to mine.

“What are you doing?” I asked, pulling my head away.

“I’m looking to see whether you borrowed Twila’s rose-colored glasses.”

I swear, sisters are both a blessing and a curse.

“LUNCH
looks wonderful, ladies,” Terry said, beaming at me as he doused his hot dog with ketchup.  “I can’t thank you enough for letting us eat with you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to thank us,” Marnie said, slipping a spoonful of potato salad on his plate as she sidled closer. “We love taking care of you.”

“We do,” Twila agreed, sliding a slice of pie onto his plate. “Feeding you is one of the great pleasures of our lives.”

They make me want to puke sometimes. This isn’t one of those times. Now I only want to poke them in the eyes and make them cry. “Will you two stop throwing yourselves at Terry?” I asked pointedly.

Twila had the grace to look abashed, but Marnie was beyond caring. She knew she was on my last nerve, but she didn’t care.

“Where are your boys from, Terry?” I asked, trying to draw the conversation to a safer ground.

“They’re from the Saginaw and Bay City area,” Terry said.

“I take it they don’t get to spend a lot of time in the woods,” I said, as I scanned the boys. They all sat at their own picnic table, occasionally shooting mischievous looks in the girls’ direction. “They look a little citified.”

“They are,” Terry said. “They’re all excited to go swimming and kayaking, though. They’re good kids. They just haven’t had a lot of time to spend in nature. This is their chance.”

I shifted my gaze to the girls, studying the table configurations. To my chagrin, Lila and Rosemary paired off at the far end of one of the tables. They whispered and laughed to each other, and every time one of them chuckled they shot dark looks to the adjacent table. Unfortunately, that happened to be the table where Bay, Clove and Thistle sat.

Terry followed my gaze with his steady eyes. “Why did you let Lila Stevens come? You could have banned her. You know that, right?”