Page 50 of Last Witch Attempt
“For one of your little memory spells, yes. Not for a big one.”
“I’ve never cast a big one. At least not under circumstances like this.”
“Luckily, you’re not alone.” Evan tipped an invisible hat and grinned. “It’s going to be fine, Bay. Don’t let the ‘what-ifs’ drive you crazy. Just take a breath and eat whatever wonderful dinner your mother has put together.”
“They have been cooking up a storm.” I glanced at the front door of the inn. “I should probably get inside. If I’m going to argue with Aunt Tillie—and that seems likely—I should get it out of the way before Steve and Spencer arrive.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Evan agreed. “There’s little Tillie loves more than putting on a show. If she believes she’s the center of attention, she’ll play it up for her audience.”
That was exactly what I was afraid of.
THE INN WAS QUIET WHEN I ENTEREDthrough the front door. Peg and Winchester weren’t racing around the lobby, which meant they were likely napping in the family living quarters. My intention was to check on the dog. I got distracted by the argument blowing up in the dining room.
“I’m not saying she’s crazy,” Twila insisted. “I’m saying that maybe she’s going a little cuckoo.” She twirled her finger near her ear to get her point across.
Mom glared at her. “That’s not better than saying she’s nuttier than a Snickers bar,” Mom snapped. “You should try to use your words better.”
“I use my words fine.”
“No, you don’t.” Mom vehemently shook her head. “Besides, Aunt Tillie isn’t cuckoo. She’s just looking for attention.” The expression on my mother’s face suggested that perhaps she didn’t believe what she was saying.
“What’s going on?” I asked, jolting them both. They hadn’t realized I was watching them.
“Nothing,” Mom replied quickly, avoiding eye contact. “Twila is just being Twila.”
“Yes, apparently it’s wrong to be worried about our geriatric aunt.” Sarcasm dripped from Twila’s tongue. “I should be flogged.”
My gaze bounced between them. “Does this have something to do with Aunt Tillie’s little performance downtown this afternoon?”
Mom snapped her gaze in my direction. “What did she do downtown?”
Uh-oh. Apparently, I was the tattletale today. There was little Aunt Tillie hated more than tattletales. I was definitely going to be on her list. “Um…”
“You’d better tell me,” Mom intoned. “I won’t be happy if you keep information from me. In fact, I’ll make sure your husband is the only one who doesn’t get a slice of cake as punishment. I put the raspberries on as garnishes just as he likes, so he’ll be doubly upset.”
I glared at her. “That was quite the effective threat.”
“I learned from the best.” Mom folded her arms across her chest. “Now spill.”
I told them about the four-wheeler and the scooter, about the changing capes and helmets. Mom seemed more confused than anything else when I finished. “Why would she do that?”
I held out my hands and shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Well, that is just odd.” She shook her head. “That’s not a very good use of her time. Aunt Tillie has always been efficient.”
That’s what she was worked up about? “Um…”
“I’m just saying,” Mom snapped. “Changing capes and hopping from vehicle to vehicle would take too much of her time. It wasn’t very warm today.”
“Plus, how did she get two vehicles downtown?” Twila asked. “She usually drives the four-wheeler and then loads the scooter in her truck. I don’t think there’s room on that four-wheeler for the scooter.”
“That’s really not what I’m worried about,” I said. “I’m more worried about her state of mind. Not to risk getting on your bad side, but that was a bit of a nutty thing to do.”
“Told you.” Twila was triumphant. “I told you it was fine to say that she was nutty.”
Mom ignored her and kept her focus on me. “She’s been fine.”
“She’s been a little off,” I insisted.
