Spells & Stitches (27 page)
Authors: Barbara Bretton
“She was probably thinking hospitals are germ factories waiting to infect you with staph and who knows what else,” Kim said, leaping to my defense. “I’ve thought about home birthing our baby, too.”
“Over my dead body,” Bunny said. “I put in over thirty years as a nurse. I know what can happen during a delivery. The hospital is the best place for you.”
“You were in cardiac, Ma,” Kim reminded her. “I don’t think you assisted at too many deliveries.”
“Laria is healthy and happy,” I said, glancing toward the baby who was sleeping in her Snugli, tiny face pressed against Luke’s chest. “That’s the important thing.”
“I can’t believe you’re out and about only a week later,” Kim said. “I thought you’d receive us from your fainting couch.”
“I can’t believe the nonsense you’re spouting, Kimberly.” Bunny shook her head in dismay. “She gave birth. She’s not recovering from surgery. Of course she’s out and about.”
Conversation ebbed and flowed around me as I picked at my chicken with sun-dried tomatoes. Suddenly I was so tired I wanted to crawl into a Snugli myself and sleep for a week or two.
“That’s it,” Bunny said, tossing her napkin on the table next to her empty dessert plate. “It’s time for you to go home and go to bed.”
Luke, who had been dozing himself, awoke with a start while I nodded mutely. Home. Bed. Sleep. What’s not to like?
Renate thanked everyone warmly for visiting the inn. She waved off the check, but I would take care of it the next day. I noticed that Jack left a very generous tip, which made me happy. Like father, like son.
After another flurry of good-byes as MacKenzies headed back to their various homes.
All except Bunny and Jack, who walked out to the parking lot with us.
“Better hit the road, Pop,” Luke said as he strapped the baby into her car seat. “You’ve got a long ride home.”
“Oh, we’re not going home,” Bunny said with a chuckle.
Maybe if we hadn’t been so tired we would have known what was coming next, but sleep deprivation had dulled our faculties to the point where we didn’t know our own names without checking our driver’s licenses.
“Darn right we’re not going home,” Jack said, putting an arm around each of us while Laria peered up at him from her Snugli. “We’re staying here with you.”
25
“Look at those faces!” Bunny said through her laughter. “We don’t mean we’re going to stay at your house. We’re going to stay here at the inn.”
This was wrong on so many levels I didn’t know where to begin.
“You—you have a room at the inn?” I asked, knowing that was utterly impossible.
“Well, not yet,” Bunny admitted, “but we’re going to talk to that lovely Renate and set something up.”
“I don’t think you can, Ma,” Luke said, sounding as shell-shocked as I was feeling. “Last I heard, they were full up.”
“Actually they’re not,” Bunny said. “I checked.”
Time to pick my jaw up from the floor. “Renate told you that?”
Bunny made a dismissive gesture with her hands. “I saw it for myself.”
Oh, gods, this wasn’t going to end well.
“What did you do, Ma?” Luke asked.
Jack rolled his eyes. “What do you think she did?” he said. “She stuck her big nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Bunny looked defiant and defensive. “I took a little tour of the place,” she said. “What’s so terrible about that?”
“Does the term
private property
mean anything to you?” Luke asked.
private property
mean anything to you?” Luke asked.
“It’s an
inn
, Luke,” Bunny said. “A public place.”
inn
, Luke,” Bunny said. “A public place.”
“Don’t look at me,” Jack said, hands up in surrender. “I can’t control her.”
“The rooms are beautiful,” Bunny continued, “and every single one I saw was unoccupied.”
Luke looked to me for help, but no way was I tackling his mother.
He gave me a look and plunged forward. “And it never occurred to you the guests might be out.”
Bunny sighed in obvious exasperation. “Trust me, Luke. I’m old enough to recognize when a room is empty and when it isn’t.”
One night,
I thought, as Luke and I exchanged glances. It wouldn’t be that bad.
I thought, as Luke and I exchanged glances. It wouldn’t be that bad.
“We’ll check out Christmas Eve morning and drive home,” Bunny said with a big smile. “We’d only need a room for a week. I’m sure they can do something for us.”
“No time like the present to find out,” Jack said. “Let’s ask them.”
“No!” I sounded like a crazy woman, but I didn’t care. “Let me see if I can call in a favor or two.”
I raced back into the inn and cornered Renate and Colm in the hallway.
“Tell me there’s no room at the inn,” I begged.
“There’s no room at the inn,” Renate said with a chuckle, “but we do have a double available at a good price.”
“Luke’s parents want to help out with the baby for a few days and they need a place to stay.”
“They can’t stay here,” Colm said with a wink. “Sorry, but we’re all booked up.”
I ran back outside to deliver the bad news.
His parents looked crestfallen and I felt a little guilty for feeling like we’d dodged a bullet.
“Wait!” Jack’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I think I saw a motel a few miles outside of town. We could stay there.”
“Bedbugs,” Luke said. “Big scandal. You don’t want to do that.”
“This is terrible,” Bunny said, looking like she was about to cry. “You don’t have a family of your own, honey, and I think it’s the grandmother’s place to help her kids with a new baby. I did it for Ronnie and Deni. I did it for Jen. I did it for Patrick and Kevin and I was so happy that I could do it for you.”
What was I supposed to say to that? This was what families did. They helped each other.
I took a deep breath and jumped into the deep end of the pool.
“Stay with us tonight,” I said, trying to ignore the look of total shock on Luke’s face. “We’ll figure out what to do tomorrow.”
“The place is small,” Luke warned. “The guest room has all the baby stuff in it and a lot of Chloe’s yarn.”
“And spinning wheels,” I added. “We planned to have everything straightened out by the time Laria came, but she surprised us.”
“We don’t mind small,” Bunny said with a wave of her hand. “All we want is to be with you and the baby.”
“How small is small?” Jack was beginning to sound concerned.
Luke shrugged. “Maybe eight by ten.”
“That’s small,” Jack said, nodding. “If I sneeze, I’ll probably blow out a window.”
“Jack!” Bunny shot him a reproving look. “We’ll be just fine. We’re early risers so we can feed the baby while the two of you get a little extra sleep.”
“I’m nursing,” I reminded her.
“Express your milk so I can give her a bottle.”
My head was starting to spin. Maybe I should have urged them toward the hot-sheet motel after all.
“Am I the only one here who’s freezing his ass off?” Luke asked. “Let’s continue this at home.”
My stomach dropped at the realization of what I had done. Our tiny cottage was not made for visitors. Last year Luke’s ex spent a few nights with us (which is a whole other story) and I don’t think I got a second of sleep the whole time. When it comes to homemaking I’m not exactly Martha Stewart and it takes a yearly visit from my house sprite friends to keep me from drowning in clutter.
“Did you clean the litter boxes this morning?” I asked Luke as we pulled out of the parking lot.
“I changed three diapers. Does that count?”
“I can’t remember the last time we changed the litter. I don’t imagine your parents are cat people, are they?”
“My mother has plastic covers on the living room sofa.”
“This is going to be a disaster.”
And don’t get me started on the whole magick part of the equation.
At home Luke maneuvered the Jeep alongside my Buick, which left his parents’ minivan hanging out on the street. Not that we ever had any traffic, but both Bunny and Jack were starting to look a little stressed out so I asked Luke if he would move the Buick to the street and let his parents pull next to his Jeep.
“Besides,” I said, “that’ll give me a minute to race through the house and make sure nothing weird is going on in there.” A flatware conga line. Mini tornados on the kitchen table. Self-opening roofs. I’d seen it all and wanted to make sure Bunny and Jack didn’t get the surprise of their lives.
I was brushing cat hair off the living room sofa when Bunny walked in.
“You have cats,” she said.
I crumped the hairy wad of Scotch tape in my hand and stood up. “Four of them,” I said. “Five, if you count Penny the store cat.” Of course Penelope was a great deal more than a store cat, but there was such a thing as TMI.
“I didn’t know Luke liked cats.”
“I’m not sure he likes cats in general, but he’s pretty fond of our crew.”
She nodded and I could see the wheels spinning inside her fluffy blond head.
Pyewacket and Lucy strolled in from the kitchen and began to purr and wind themselves around Bunny’s ankles.
“They like you,” I said as I dropped the tape into the nearest wastebasket. “They don’t like just anyone.”
I’m not sure Bunny felt particularly honored, but she nodded and forced a smile.
I took pity on her and scooped the two girls up and deposited them a few feet away just in time for the next kitty onslaught. Blot and Dinah, meowing loudly, entwined themselves around Bunny’s ankles where the other two had left off.
“That’s exactly how they reacted when they met Luke,” I said. “It must be genetic.”
“What did you say their names are?”
I gave her a quick rundown on who was who and to my surprise she bent down and gave Blot a cautious scratch behind her right ear. Blot, instantly delirious with joy, flung herself across Bunny’s boots and presented her belly for admiration and attention.
“You’ll never get rid of her now,” I laughed.
Bunny crouched down to do Blot’s bidding while I took the opportunity to race down the short hallway to the guest room and shovel a path to the bed. Were the sheets clean? I hoped so, but there wasn’t time to find out. Everything seemed in order. Cluttered, but at least there were no signs of any outbreaks of magick as far as I could see.
There was nothing left to do but cross my fingers and hope for the best.
LUKE“No arguments,” my mother said as she shooed Chloe away. “I ran a bath for you. Go! Enjoy!”
“You heard her,” I said. “We’ll hold down the fort.”
She disappeared down the hallway before I finished my sentence.
My mother was sitting in the rocking chair by the living room window, cradling Laria, who showed no interest in sleep.
“You, too,” my mother said to me. “You look terrible. Go get some sleep. That’s why I’m here. Take advantage of your father and me while you can.”
“Laria,” I said. “She’ll need—”
“I raised seven of these,” she reminded me. “I think I have a pretty good idea what she needs and when she needs it.”
“Her bassinet is in our room.”
“Why don’t we put it in the guest room overnight?”
“Have you seen the guest room?” my dad asked. “We’re lucky we can fit in there.”
“You’re going to need a bigger house soon,” my mother said over Laria’s steady crying.
“The cottage is big enough for us.”
“But not for two adults, four cats, and a toddler.”
“We have time.”
“It goes faster than you think, Luke.”
“You two lived in a four-room apartment until just before I came along.”
My mother flashed me a smile. “That’s how I know you’ll need a bigger place.”
“Listen to her, son,” my dad said. “She knows what she’s talking about.”
I didn’t even try to hold back my yawn. “I’m going to take you up on your babysitting offer and hit the sack.”
I made sure my folks had access to food, drink, and baby paraphernalia and took off before my mother had a chance to offer any more suggestions.
“She means well,” Chloe said later as she climbed into bed next to me. “She wants everything to be perfect for us.”
“She’s planning to reorganize the kitchen while she’s here.”
“The kitchen?”
“That got your attention,” I said with a tired laugh.
“There’s nothing wrong with the kitchen. I know where everything is.”
“She’ll probably Dewey decimal your cookbooks.”
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