Page 3 of The Witching Hours

“Stop!” Brigid gave the oldest two a warning with her practiced mom look. “Kenny,” she said, “we don’t call people morons or cheese, and we don’t start fights.”

Kenny looked at her like she was crazy. “Yes, we do! All the time!”

Brigid did her best to hide her smile. “Well, you’re right. I misspoke. Your brothers engage in that behavior sometimes, but that doesn’t make it right and it is against the rules.”

“You always take Blake’s side!” Kenny said.

Kenny threw himself into a sitting position on the second step of the staircase, crossed his arms, and gave Blake a dirty look. If she had to describe her boys in one word, she would’ve said Blake was her leader, Judson was walking charisma, and Kenny was a fighter. It was a good thing he was born last or there’d be even more trips to the first aid cabinet. Or worse, urgent care.

Just to reassure herself that Kenny’s accusation of favoritism wasn’t true, in an instant Brigid rewound years of history refereeing the boys. It didn’t take long to put the claim to rest. “That isn’t true, Kenny. It just seems like that to you when you don’t get your way,” she said.

“Oh, yeah? Then why didn’t Blake get in trouble for calling me a baby?” Kenny protested, face still red.

He had a point.

“I didn’t call you a baby. I said you’ll pick a baby movie, and we shouldn’t have to watch it,” Blake corrected.

Once again Kenny launched himself through the air like he was a missile aimed at Blake. Blake caught Kenny and restrained him in a bear hug. The fact that Blake laughed while doing so made Kenny wild with rage.

Brigid sighed. “Blake. Let go.”

He did so instantly. Brigid took charge of Kenny physically and set him back on the next to last step on the stairs. “No matter what your brothers say, stay there. Got it?”

Kenny looked at his mother like she was the definition of traitor.

To Blake, she said, “Kenny is right. You provoked this incident by making fun of his choices. At another time, when cooler heads prevail and everyone can control their impulses, we’ll revisit the tradition of rotating movie choice. For tonight, the two of you,” she pointed at Blake then Kenny, “will be content to enjoy whatever movie Judson picks.”

Judson was the closest thing to peacemaker. She knew he’d try to choose a movie that both his brothers could manage to endure if not enjoy.

Brigid listened to the protests she left behind on her way to the kitchen. Catching a random glance at herself in the hall mirror brought home the realization that she hadn’t showered or changed clothes for three days. It would have to get much worse before her boys would notice or care, but she was ashamed to take such little pride in herself. If her mom was alive, Brigid would get a “talking to” for certain. Even financially ruined widows must adhere to minimum standards of hygiene. Perhaps she could sneak away once the boys were enthralled byTransformersorWitcherorPercy Jackson.

Pulling her i-phone out of her pocket, Brigid found Pepe’s Pizza in contacts and speed dialed the number. She briefly wondered if having Pepe’s Pizza on speed dial meant she was a bad mother and vowed to increase the fruits and vegetables consumed in the household. That was followed by the thought that fruits, veggies, and meats that don’t contain antibiotics and growth hormones cost more than carbs. That was followed by scant recollections of her sixth-grade nutrition lesson. She’d paid close enough attention to know that raising boys on pizza was bad. With a sigh she dialed the number then set a short stack of plates on the kitchen island.

“I’m setting the house alarm,” she told the boys. “You know the drill. Don’t open doors or windows.”

An hour and a half later, she’d eaten like a coed, lathered three times in the shower to make up for the days she’d impersonated a blob, and emerged with happy skin cells, shiny hair, and laundered clothes. She didn’t want to let herself admit that anything in life felt good. After all, her husband had just died three months before. She wasn’t supposed to feel good about stuff. But it was undeniable. Cleanliness really was next to godliness.

The movie had ended, and the boys were fighting over whether they’d watch another movie or use the big screen TV to play video, leaving Kenny out.

“Hold it right there,” she said in her best authoritative voice. “Turn it off. Let’s play a game before bed instead.”

“A game?” Blake looked at his mother like she’d lost her mind.

She chuckled. “I’m sure you remember how. Go open the window seat and pick a board game we canallplay.”

“Mom,” Kenny said, “games are lame.”

“So are poets,” Judd laughed and threw a pillow at Kenny.

“I don’t care,” she said. “Break is almost over. You’re going back to school on Monday and, when you do, games won’t be an option. Homework will be your master.” Waiting for the groans to die down, she said, “So let’s play while we can. NotMonopoly. Takes too long.”

After listening to them argue for three minutes, she said, “Smallworld.” They stopped. And as they stared at her she could see wheels turning. Each was trying to come up with an argument why not. Kenny was too young. It was best with three players. The cop’s head was missing. It was stupid.

Finally, Blake gave her a break and pronounced it, “Okay.”

The boys had more fun than they’d expected, and Brigid felt like she’d partially made up for being a go-eat-pizza-and-watch-a-movie kind of mom. Win all around. It was a feel-good moment that was hard to come by these days. But once the boys were in bed, a pall seemed to fall over the house that might not be theirs much longer. That thought caused her to move a little slower and, when things got quiet, she was left thinking about a future without Steve.

She trudged back to the study and sat down at Steve’s desk then wondered if she would always think of it as Steve’s desk.

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