Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie We're In Trouble! (The Toad Witch Mysteries Book 2) (7 page)

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Authors: Christiana Miller

Tags: #Occult, #Horror, #Genre Fiction, #Ghosts, #Literature & Fiction

BOOK: Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie We're In Trouble! (The Toad Witch Mysteries Book 2)
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“The cog in your cliche-machine. Got it. What happened with that Jack guy you hooked up with in Chicago?”

“You’ve got to keep up, girlfriend. Jack was so three weeks ago. I met Forrest at the gas station before I left for Chicago. I didn’t think about him again, until I met him at the grocery store this week. Who knew your lack of domestic skills would land me a sweet thing like him? Decaf coffee on your cereal? Really?”

“Hey! It’s a liquid.”

“It’s disgusting. Anyway, we went on our first date last night,” he said, looking happier than I had seen him in awhile.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“You were asleep. That’s all you do anymore. When you’re not bitchin’, you’re sleepin’. Or eatin’.”

“Baby on the way, hello.” I said, pointing at my belly. “Cranky, tired and hungry pretty much defines my pregnancy.”


What-evs,
baby mama. Besides, I didn’t want to get your hopes up, if it didn’t work out. Not to change the subject, but did you notice the outdoor thermometer? Sixty and climbing.”

I sighed. “I really hope this weather thing doesn’t bite us all in the ass.”

There was the sound of a car horn outside.

“Speaking of ass-hickeys…” Gus ran to the front room to look out of the window. “There’s my guy. Gotta go.”

“Seriously? Are you providing drive-thru blowjobs now? Is that why he’s not coming in?” I asked, following him. I felt snappish and surprisingly, more than a little jealous that someone new was now going to be taking up all of Gus’s time.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, you nasty girl.” Gus pulled out his cell phone and texted Forrest. “
Be right out.
Oooh, he says he’s got a surprise for me.”

“I hope it doesn’t involve penicillin.” I handed him back his twenty. “Can I go ahead and make my breakfast now? Since your new boyfriend doesn’t have enough manners to come inside and pick you up?”

Gus made a face and blew me a kiss. “Try not to set the house on fire while I’m gone, Sybil. Maybe you could let one of your nicer personalities come out to play by the time I get back.”

I flipped him off as he slammed out the front door.

*     *     *

After breakfast, I opened the windows to air out the house, then sat down at Aunt Tillie’s desk. Although, I guess it was my desk now. I was still getting used to that idea, because the furniture still felt so much like Aunt Tillie. Maybe Gus was right about replacing it.

The puppies settled in by my feet for an after-meal nap and I booted up my laptop to see about getting him his own mini-fridge as a Yule present. I wondered how much it would cost to hire someone to build Gus his own little cottage get-away in the back yard. That way, he could move in there and stop annoying me so much.

After spending way too much time on shopping sites—mini-fridges weren’t anywhere near as expensive as I thought they’d be, but custom-built sheds that looked like miniature log-cabin houses were
way
more than I could afford—I checked my bank account. It was dwindling at an alarming rate.

The online store wasn’t making anywhere near the profit we had thought it would and with a baby on the way, money worries were burning a hole in my psyche. During my long month without Gus, I had gone out and tried to find a part-time job, but no one wanted to hire a pregnant woman. I was starting to feel the familiar cold fingers of fear and desperation wrapping around me, and I didn’t like it one bit.

 

Chapter 13

A
s I searched online job sites, the room grew ice cold. The puppies stirred and looked around. They focused on the rocking chair and started to growl, in unison.

I sighed and shut down my laptop. Witches were hard enough on computers—I didn’t want to take a chance on a ghost blowing the motherboard.

“I know you’re here, Aunt Tillie. What’s up?”

Aunt Tillie appeared in her rocking chair. “Divine bliss and eternal happiness got old. So I thought I’d drop in. Your mom and I have been discussing decorating ideas for the nursery.” She looked me over and zoomed her focus into my belly. “The baby’s doing well. Oh, look at that face. So cute!”

“Hey!” I said, covering my baby bump. “Stop looking inside my body like that. It creeps me out.” After a second, I added “Really? Is the baby really doing well? Is it a she? It is, isn’t it? Or is it a he?”

Aunt Tillie sniffed. “You said stop. So I did.” She looked around, frowning. The windows were open, and outside, birds were singing and flowers were starting to bloom. “What month are we in? Isn’t this supposed to be winter?”

“I think Gus’s experimentation with weather magic may actually be working. Come back in a few days and I’ll be in shorts and a tank top.”

Aunt Tillie turned to me, her mouth a thin, tight line.

“Hey! Don’t give me the stink-eye. I told him it was a bad idea.”

“Eating month-old fish is a bad idea. Manipulating the weather is a catastrophic idea. He needs to turn this around now, or mark my words, you’ll both regret it. You have no idea what kind of forces you’re toying around with.”

“I know,” I said. “Messing with Mother Nature, B-A-D. I’ll tell him.”

“You are such an idiot. Grow a brain, girl, and do the MacDougal line proud.”

“Is it MacDougal or McDougal?” I asked. “I’ve seen it both ways in the paperwork.”

She gave me an odd look, as if I had derailed her train of thought by lobbing horseflies at her. “It was MacDougal in Scotland, but it was changed to McDougal by a careless clerk at Ellis Island. Americans always think they know best when it comes to spelling. Personally, I prefer Mac to Mc, but a hundred years from now, what will it matter? Now can we get back to the topic at hand?”

“I was hoping we were done with that topic,” I said.

“So was I. I was hoping you’d learned your lesson with Lisette and the mess you got us all into. But here you are, doing it again.”

“How is Gus’s mess my fault?!”

“We both know that boy of yours can develop unhealthy obsessions, and he never thinks out the consequences. Mark my words, this weather ritual of his is going to bite both of you. And what he’s planned next is even worse.”

I blew out a cross sigh. Of course. That’s why she was here. The toad bone ritual. “Gus just wants to honor Grundleshanks.”

“Oh, he wants more than that.” Aunt Tillie snapped. “He wants the type of dominion humans are not allowed to have.”

I raised an eyebrow and gave her my best
don’t be stupid
look.

Aunt Tillie didn’t appreciate my attitude. A stack of books jumped off a shelf and crashed to the ground.

“Would you knock that off?” I said, annoyed. “Other people have done the ritual.”

“Not many. Not often. And definitely not with
that
toad. You stupid children. You know just enough to get you into trouble and not enough to get you out. Why do you think the practice stopped?”

“Let me guess. Witches who tried and failed died, right? Isn’t that how the line goes? You really need to chill with the dire warnings. Been there, done that, got the hoodie. They’re losing their effectiveness.”

“No,” she said, equally annoyed. “Witches who failed were driven into madness and despair. Witches who succeeded died. The last thing I want is you two nincompoops showing up on my side of the Veil, destroying the place.”

I couldn’t decide if that was an insult or a left-handed compliment. “We don’t particularly want to cross over yet, ourselves. And are you talking
all
witches,
most
witches or
some
witches? It couldn’t have been
everyone
. The Horsemen didn’t go mad or die. Or by die, did you mean,
eventually
? Because
eventually
, we’re
all
going to die.”

She harrumphed and gave me a cross-eyed stare. “Don’t push me, or you’ll find the toad bone isn’t the only thing that can confer a fate worse than death. I don’t know why I even bother with you two.”

I sighed. “I’ve already told him to pull back on his rituals. What more do you want me to do?”

“Take the toad away from him.”

“And tell him what? A mysterious toad thief struck in the middle of the night?”

“Why do you need to say anything? Haven’t you ever heard of pleading the fifth, child? Throw the damn thing in the lake, and deny, deny, deny.”

While I was thinking how annoying it was that people kept telling me what to do, no matter which side of the Veil they happened to be on, I must have fallen asleep.

The next thing I knew, the puppies were climbing up on my shoulders, their little puppy tongues licking me awake. 

I set the puppies down and glanced over at Aunt Tillie’s quietly rocking chair. I opened my sight and could sense her still there.

“Aunt Tillie?”

Either she wasn’t in a talkative mood, or she had used up her ectoplastic energy for the day, because she remained silent.

Outside, the sun was shining so brightly, it was heating up the house and I was starting to sweat.
I got up and went to the back door, to check the thermometer. The temperature had risen to seventy degrees.

What if Aunt Tillie was right? What was Gus’s faux summer going to do to the natural order of things? Even worse, what if she was right about Grundleshanks? Would Gus go mad? Would we have to go into hiding? Was there such a thing as a Witches Protection Program? How badly were we going to be regretting everything, a month from now?

 

Chapter 14

G
us didn’t come home that night. By the time I let the Dobies out for their morning gallop the next day, it was seventy-five degrees. I thought about going on a Grundleshanks-finding mission with the Dobes, but if they found the toad, it would not end well. And if I found him, queasy wouldn’t even begin to cover my reaction.

Aunt Tillie was just going to have to deal with Gus on her own. If any ghost was capable of being a huge pain in the ass, it was my Aunt Tillie.

*     *     *

I pulled on an oversized tee-shirt and maternity jeans, and went to visit Paul’s great-grandfather, Daniel. Since he was well over a century old, I wanted to make the most of any opportunities I had, to spend time with him.

The nursing home was on the outskirts of town, surrounded by an acre of land. It was surprisingly peaceful. The staff seemed to actually enjoy the oldsters and constantly thought of new activities they could do. Right now, Daniel was the reigning tournament champ of Wii bowling, although he had to cede his title in Wii boxing to an 80-year old newcomer.

When I got out of the SUV, the sun was bright and hot and cheerful and my guess was that the temperature was hovering around eighty degrees. I wondered what Daniel was going to say about the unusual weather.

*     *     *

I walked into his room just as Raoul, one of the nurses and a part-time stylist/barber/make-over artist for the oldsters, was finishing Daniel’s shave.

“Hello, Miss Mara,” he said, cheerfully.

“Have a seat,” Daniel said. “I’m getting prettified. This may take awhile.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed.

Raoul gently placed a steaming hot towel on Daniel’s craggy jaw. “Let me know if it’s too hot, sir.”

Daniel cackled. “I have elephant hide for a face. Can’t be too hot.”

“What would you like today, for your hair cut?”

“Make me look like George Clooney. I got some hot young honeys I need to impress.”

Raoul ruefully shook his head, grinning. “Ayyy, too bad I’m all out of miracles.”

Daniel cackled. “You used them up giving Mrs. Norbert a full head of hair, didn’t you?”

Raoul grinned. “You know I don’t style-and-tell. Client-hairdresser privilege. How about a trim and blow dry?”

Daniel winked at me. “Don’t get old,” he said. “Life becomes all about settling.”

“It’s better than the alternative,” I replied.

“There is that,” he nodded, then turned his attention to Raoul. “If you can’t do Clooney, let’s go for Cary Grant.”

“Mister Daniel,” Raoul protested. “I’m a nurse, not a plastic surgeon.”

I laughed. “You don’t need a barber, Daniel. You need a magician. Too bad Houdini’s dead.”

“Hey, now,” Daniel frowned. “Respect your elders, you young whippersnappers. Or I’ll put both of you in a time-out.”

“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “If Raoul can make you look anything like Cary Grant—even if it’s Cary Grant’s great-grandfather—I’ll take you both out for dinner. You pick the day.”

“Did you hear that? We have a challenge on our hands.” Daniel said.

Raoul laughed. “Don’t you worry, sir. We’re going to win this bet.”

“I pick a Monday.” Daniel said. “Monday dinners are disgusting. Okra. Who the hell ever looked at okra and decided it was supposed to be edible?”

“Mondays work for me.” Raoul said.

“Dinner time around here is four p.m. It’ll be like a late lunch for you two young-ins. They like us to be in bed by eight. You’d think we were toddlers.” Daniel flipped through his daily planner. “I’m booked for the next four Mondays, but the fifth one is all yours, sweetheart.”

I took out my smartphone and added it to my calendar. “Done.”

“I’m looking forward to it. I’ve heard all about you youngsters and your menage-a-trois Mondays,” Daniel said, with a grin, waggling his freshly trimmed eyebrows.

“Oh, now, there’ll be none of that,” Raoul said, faking shock. “You’d better be on your best behavior, missy.” He winked at me. “I don’t want people saying you’re buying us lunch just to get in our pants. Especially this strapping stud here,” he said, nodding at Daniel. “The ladies will be beside themselves with jealousy.”

“It’ll be difficult, but I’ll try to restrain myself.” I could feel my lips twitching as I tried not to laugh.

“Hell with that. I’ll let you grope me a little.” Daniel chuckled. “Maybe even more than a little. Gotta keep up my reputation as a ladies’ man or all the chickens around here will be looking for a new rooster.”

The door opened and Paul walked in, clearly surprised and a little angry to find me there.

 

Chapter 15

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