Every Witch Way But Wicked (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

of those things we weren’t supposed to bring up around Aunt Tillie.
    “Who wants attention?”
    Everyone in the room froze at the sound of Aunt Tillie’s voice. Crap. Today’s episode of Jeopardy must be over.
    We all turned to see Aunt Tillie’s frightening figure – all 4’11” of it – as she stood in the doorway. Well, everyone that is but Thistle. She appeared to be trying to make herself smaller on the countertop. She was like a cat – she figured if she couldn’t see Aunt Tillie, then Aunt Tillie couldn’t see her either. What? It’s a theory.
    “My mom was just telling us about your condition,” Clove said. I think she was trying to help Thistle, but it was obviously the wrong move.
    “And Thistle thinks I’m making it up for attention?” Aunt Tillie’s voice was ominous as she ran a hand through her close-cropped slate gray curls. She kind of reminds me of a hobbit some days – a really mean hobbit, but a hobbit still.
    No one in the room spoke – or made eye contact.
    “So everyone thinks I’m making it up for attention? You all think that an 80-year-old woman – the 80-year-old woman that has taken care of all of you for your whole lives – is making up a painful and debilitating ailment to get attention?”
    She was pulling out the big guns now. Aunt Tillie only called attention to her age when she wanted to guilt us. When we called attention to her age to modify her behavior she was equally offended.
    “Why do you think you’re allergic to oxygen?” I asked finally.
    “I’m not allergic to oxygen,” Aunt Tillie scoffed.
    Well that was good news.
    “Only my eyes are allergic to oxygen.”
    Criminy. “And why do you think that?”
    “Because my eyes have been watering for days and they’re red and inflamed. When I wear the sunglasses and don’t go outside, that solves the problem. What else could it be?”
    Allergies. “It’s fall, there’s a lot of pollen in the air for the changing of the seasons.”
    Aunt Tillie gave me a withering look. “You sound like my doctor.”
    “And don’t you think the doctor would know about things like this?” I know better than arguing with Aunt Tillie – but I can’t help myself. Now I’m the cat and her paranoia is catnip.
    “Not if it’s a new condition that hasn’t been discovered yet,” Aunt Tillie informed me haughtily.
    “And you think you’re the first person to have this condition?”
    “I’ve always been a scientific anomaly,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “The sooner you people realize that and stop questioning my uniqueness, the better you’ll all be.”
    With those words, Aunt Tillie flounced back out of the kitchen.
    It was going to be a long dinner.
Five
    Clove, Thistle and I helped carry all the dishes of food out to the dining room – leaving my mom’s pies on the countertop to cool. When we got into the dining room, I noticed that both Brian and Marcus were already seated next to each other. That didn’t surprise me, the rest of the guests at the inn were primarily couples.
    The conversation at the table was light – and most everybody was excited about the upcoming murder mystery.
    Everyone took their seats. I couldn’t help but notice that Thistle had slid into the chair next to Marcus. His eyes had nearly popped out of his head when he saw her outfit. I didn’t blame him.
    Twila saw Marcus’ gaze wander down to Thistle’s cleavage – and she didn’t look happy. I didn’t know what she expected. Thistle had purposely brought out the big guns – well, as big as she could muster – for a clear purpose. She seemed to have achieved that purpose.
    “Who is this?”
    Aunt Tillie had entered the room and her gaze had immediately found Marcus. Thistle introduced Marcus to everyone at the table. My mom, Marnie and Twila had met him casually at the stable – but Aunt Tillie didn’t believe in manual labor, so she hadn’t had the pleasure yet.
    “You brought him to family dinner for your first date?”