The Magick of Dark Root (Daughters of Dark Root) (34 page)

“Maybe that was something he did before the accident?” I suggested.

“Yeah, not likely. Unless he had a foot fetish.” Eve rubbed her hands together. “I will spend the next few days trying to gather more information about him. When I was an actress in New York, I played an amnesia victim. The only thing that brought me back was a picture of my dog. Maybe it’s the same sort of thing.”

“Maybe,” I said, dubious. “But what else can we do?”

“By the way,” Eve lowered her voice. “Aunt Dora wants us dressed and ready to go in an hour. I tried to let you sleep as long as possible, but she was starting to ask questions.” She leaned in to me. “I also told her Leo would be bunking in one of the spare rooms. She seemed okay with that.”

“Good thinking.” My hair was still wet and I pulled it into a messy bun on the top of my head. I waited for Eve to say something about my hairstyle, but she didn’t, evidence that tiredness had taken over her fashion sensibilities for the time being.

“What shall we wear?” I asked. I hadn’t done any laundry in a week.

“I’ll find you something of mine to wear. You attend to him. I got a duffel bag out of his trunk and he had some spare clothes in it.”
 

“We are taking him?”

“I think we have to. Unless we want to chain him up in the backyard?”

We looked at Leo and he shot us a toothy smile, then continued playing with his feet.
 

“He’s our chain now, Maggie. For better or worse.”

I wasn't crazy about seeing Shane, but it hardly seemed to matter anymore, in light of the newest developments. Murder has a way of putting things in perspective and I had more important things to worry about at the moment.

I drove Leo’s Cadillac as he played with the dials on the radio, howling along to various songs, his mind trying to latch on to lyrics and melodies he remembered. When he’d hit a certain line or key I found myself saying, “Yes, that’s right. Good, good.”
 

Eve rolled her eyes in the rearview mirror, not thinking the horrendous sounds coming out of Leo were good at all.
 

“Later,” I whispered and he smiled, putting a finger to his lips to show me that he was in on the secret.

Leo looked around when we arrived at Dip Stix. I had had to bribe him with candy to get him into the car. When he saw that there was no candy waiting for us, he gave me a look that said I was a big, fat liar.

“Don’t worry,” I said, taking his hand and following Eve into Dip Stix. “There are mints inside.”

“Swank,” Eve said as we entered the café.
 

I stopped in the entryway, my mouth dropping as I took in the room’s holiday cheer.

The white lights I had “popped” had all been replaced by newer, stouter models that were intertwined with strands of red and green, neatly outlining the windows and the arch that separated the dining room from the kitchen. Near the bandstand, a small tree with a silver garland twinkled at us. The pictures on the wall had been wrapped in foil and ribbon to make them look like presents, and instrumental Christmas music played softly in the background.
 

But the most beautiful addition of all was the oak harvest table that sat in the center of the room, surrounded by a dozen, hard-backed chairs. The table abounded with candles, crystal glasses, white china plates, place cards, and an assortment of trays and covered dishes. Smells of turkey, hot rolls, and pumpkin pie permeated the room.
 

I tightened my grip on Leo to keep him from darting to the table without me.

“It’s beautiful,” I said as Aunt Dora emerged from the kitchen. Paul had picked her up hours before, so she could help them finish up dinner.
 

“Aye,” she said, plunking a pie onto the table. “An’ without a woman’s touch. I never would have guessed it possible.”

“Can-dee?” Leo asked again, looking forlornly around.

Aunt Dora narrowed her sharp eyes, but returned to the kitchen without a further word.

“She’s on to us,” Eve said, removing her coat and seating herself at the table.
 

“I know.”
 

I pulled out a chair for Leo and sat him between myself and Eve. Leo cocked his head, listening as Paul and Shane argued about spices from the kitchen. Aunt Dora emerged once again, throwing her hands into the air.
 

“I give up,” she said, easing into the chair next to Eve. “If the boys want ta run the whole show, who am I ta stop them? I tell ya, I’ll never get used to these modern times.”

The door chimed and June Bug pushed through, her cheeks the color of apples and her eyes flashing with holiday enthusiasm. Bits of dried leaves clung to her pink beanie and pearl gray sweater. She picked them off as she made her way towards us.
 

Merry and Ruth Anne followed through the door, holding Mother’s arms as she hobbled forward.

“Who’s he?” June Bug asked, seating herself across from Leo, who studied his reflection in a spoon.

“A friend,” I said, as Mother settled into her chair at the head of the table.
 

Ruth Anne sat by Mother and Merry fell in next to June Bug.

“June Bug, that’s the special visitor I told you about,” Merry said, tilting her chin to the side. “Remember, he doesn’t have any family to be with for the holidays, so we are going to make him feel like he’s a part of our family. Right?”

“He’s weird,” June Bug said, removing her gloves and placing them in her mother’s purse.
 

Leo opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, like a puffer fish.

Merry frowned. “That’s not the way we treat our guests, young lady. Now mind your manners, or no pie for dessert.”

“Well, he is,” June Bug shrugged, as Leo licked a fork.
 

I snatched the utensil from his hands. He seemed about to object when he noticed Merry. A dopey grin overtook his face. Merry leaned across the table, and patted his hand.

“Hi, Leo,” she said. “Good to see you again.” Taking a sip from her water glass, she asked casually, “You enjoying your Thanksgiving so far?”

“Thanks-givvv-ing?” he asked, trying out the word.
 

“Why do you talk like that?” June Bug asked.
 

Leo stared at her a moment, before turning his attention back to Merry.

 
“Leo doesn’t hear very well,” Merry answered. “And sometimes it’s hard for him to talk.”

June Bug’s eyes lit up. “Oh? Like he’s deaf?”

“Yes, yes. So we have to speak slowly, okay?”

June Bug accepted the explanation and proceeded to tell Leo about the earth worms she had seen that morning, in loud, drawn-out words. Merry sighed, obviously relieved.
 

Mother studied the china as Ruth Anne and Aunt Dora talked about the impending cold weather to come.

“I can feel it in my hips,” Aunt Dora said, as Ruth Anne confessed to not knowing a “real winter” in years.
 

Eve reached behind Leo and tapped my shoulder, drawing attention to Paul who stood near the kitchen, a cell phone in his hand. “He’s still texting her,” she whispered, her face tightening. “I don’t know why I bothered to come.”

“Really?” I whispered back. “That’s what you’re upset about? It was your petty insecurities that got us into this mess in the first place.”

“They’re not petty,” she said, her cheeks flushing to the color of the cranberries on the table.
 

Paul put the phone to his ear and disappeared around a corner.
 

“I’m sorry,” I said, sensing the helplessness inside her. “I know it’s hard.”

“It is. And thank you.”

“What’s a lady gotta do ta get some wine around here?” Aunt Dora bellowed, clanking a crystal glass with her spoon as if she were going to make a toast.
 

Mother snickered, then coughed so loudly she clutched her chest.
 

We sat silently, waiting for the cough to subside.

“Hurt?” Leo asked me, pointing at Mother.

“Yes.”
 

“Sad.” He started to rise, perhaps to comfort her, but I pulled him gently back into his seat.

At last, Mother became aware of our new companion. “And who’s this?” she asked, one brow arching slyly over her cloudy, blue eyes. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Miss Sasha, meet Leo. A friend of Maggie’s,” Ruth Anne said quickly.

“The baby’s father?”
 

I turned quickly to see if Shane was nearby. Fortunately, he hadn’t left the kitchen.

“No, just a friend,” I said, hoping she’d drop it.

There was a spark in her eyes that told me she knew something was amiss, but a coughing fit interrupted her thoughts and she lost interest in Leo as she tried to regain her breath.
 

“I’ll help you, Mother,” I avowed under my breath, squeezing the cloth napkin in my fists.
 

I had raised a man from the dead; surely, I could stop my mother’s illness from progressing.

“Sorry to keep you ladies waiting.” Shane emerged, carrying two bottles of wine and a corkscrew. “We wanted this day to be special for you.”
 

He stopped, mid-step, as he noticed Leo. Shane regained his composure and proceeded around the table, pouring wine into everyone’s glasses but June Bug’s and Merry’s.

“Cider for you two,” he said, winking.

“Maggie needs cider, too,” Eve said and I shot her a furious look. She shrunk down in her chair as she realized she had said too much.

“Oh?” Shane asked.

“No. Wine’s fine,” I lied.

“I’m Shane, by the way,” he said, extending a hand to Leo.

Leo looked at him strangely and didn’t respond.

“A friend of Maggie’s,” Mother said, smiling.
 

“Yes,” I agreed, feeling Shane’s eyes burn into me. “Shane, this is Leo. And he’ll be drinking water, if that’s okay?”

Shane gave me a curious look but left his cup empty. “So sport, you in Dark Root for business or pleasure?”
 

“Plea-sure,” Leo grinned, latching on to the word. “Magg-ee.”

I caught Ruth Anne’s lips twitching, resisting the urge to break into laughter.

“I see,” said Shane, scratching his head. “Maggie’s full of surprises. Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable.” With that he returned to the kitchen

“Pleasure, Maggie?” Eve whispered from my right. “Maybe the dufus has some use after all.”

“You’re a sick woman,” I said. “Keep laughing and I’ll send him your way.”

Eve’s eyes drifted to Paul, standing under the archway, pecking buttons on his phone. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea.”