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Authors: Amanda M. Lee
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the girls on the side of the house. “May the Goddess have mercy on your poor soul.”
“Bring it on,” Terry said, smiling despite himself. “Christmas is coming early and you’re going down for a change.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Seven
“How did you get stuck with us two days in a row?” Thistle asked, watching as I mixed herbs in a bowl the next afternoon. “I thought you would be everyone’s favorite person after the snow thing.”
Funny. I thought so, too. “Maybe I volunteered to take you,” I suggested. “Did you ever think of that?”
“Nope.”
That kid is too smart for her own good. “Your mothers have a few things to do,” I said. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. They’re running out of time.”
“Are they off getting our puppy?” Bay asked.
“I’m going to cast a spell and make you allergic to dogs if I hear about that puppy one more time,” I threatened. “How does that sound?”
“Can’t you just make us allergic to you?” Thistle asked. “I think we’d all be happy then.”
I stopped mixing long enough to stare her down. “Thistle, in a few years you’re going to be one of the all-time greatest snot-nosed teenagers to ever walk the face of the Earth,” I said. “When that happens, I’m going to laugh at your mother because she earned all the trouble you’re going to bestow upon her, and then I’m going to move to another house. Does that make you happy?”
“Geez, I was just joking,” Thistle said, rolling her eyes. “There’s no need to blow a basket.”
“Gasket,” Bay automatically corrected as she came into the kitchen.
Thistle made a face. “What’s a gasket? How do you blow one?”
That was a pretty good question.
“How do you blow a basket?” Bay shot back.
That was an even better question. “You two need to stop squabbling,” I ordered. “Santa doesn’t like fresh-mouthed little girls.”
“You like us, though, and you’re better than Santa,” Clove said, her eyes sparkling.
I leaned down so we were eye to eye. “I think you’re even more manipulative than your two cousins put together,” I said. “At least they’re upfront about what they do. You sneak in behind them and wreak havoc when you think no one is looking.”
Clove blanched. “I do not.”
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” I pointed out. “The three of you all have special gifts. You’re all different, but when you work together the sky is the limit on what you can accomplish. I can’t wait until you’re teenagers and you decide to work as a unit against your mothers.”
“Why?” Bay asked.
“Because when your mothers were teenagers they made my hair go gray,” I replied, pointing to my mostly ashy hair. It was once dark and lush like Marnie and Clove’s, but time caught up with it years ago and I don’t have the energy to dye it. “My hair used to look just like Clove’s. Your mothers turned it this way.”
“How did they do that?”
“By doing the things you guys are going to do in a few years,” I said, measuring some hemlock and dumping it into the bowl.
“I can’t wait to be a teenager,” Thistle said. “That means we’ll get to stay out as late as we want.”
“And no naps,” Bay added.
“And we’ll get to date boys,” Clove said, giggling.
I fixed her with a dubious look. “You’re going to be boy crazy. I can already tell.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Your mother was boy crazy, too,” I answered. “In fact, all of your mothers were boy crazy when they were younger.”
“Now they’re just crazy about one boy,” Bay said. “Officer Terry makes them all go bonkers.”
I studied her for a moment, worried she was building up some great romance in her head. For a girl who wants a father, Terry is an awfully appealing figure. “Your mothers like to compete for Terry’s affection because they always want to win,” I explained. “I taught them that. What they do when Terry is around is more about them
“Bring it on,” Terry said, smiling despite himself. “Christmas is coming early and you’re going down for a change.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Seven
“How did you get stuck with us two days in a row?” Thistle asked, watching as I mixed herbs in a bowl the next afternoon. “I thought you would be everyone’s favorite person after the snow thing.”
Funny. I thought so, too. “Maybe I volunteered to take you,” I suggested. “Did you ever think of that?”
“Nope.”
That kid is too smart for her own good. “Your mothers have a few things to do,” I said. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. They’re running out of time.”
“Are they off getting our puppy?” Bay asked.
“I’m going to cast a spell and make you allergic to dogs if I hear about that puppy one more time,” I threatened. “How does that sound?”
“Can’t you just make us allergic to you?” Thistle asked. “I think we’d all be happy then.”
I stopped mixing long enough to stare her down. “Thistle, in a few years you’re going to be one of the all-time greatest snot-nosed teenagers to ever walk the face of the Earth,” I said. “When that happens, I’m going to laugh at your mother because she earned all the trouble you’re going to bestow upon her, and then I’m going to move to another house. Does that make you happy?”
“Geez, I was just joking,” Thistle said, rolling her eyes. “There’s no need to blow a basket.”
“Gasket,” Bay automatically corrected as she came into the kitchen.
Thistle made a face. “What’s a gasket? How do you blow one?”
That was a pretty good question.
“How do you blow a basket?” Bay shot back.
That was an even better question. “You two need to stop squabbling,” I ordered. “Santa doesn’t like fresh-mouthed little girls.”
“You like us, though, and you’re better than Santa,” Clove said, her eyes sparkling.
I leaned down so we were eye to eye. “I think you’re even more manipulative than your two cousins put together,” I said. “At least they’re upfront about what they do. You sneak in behind them and wreak havoc when you think no one is looking.”
Clove blanched. “I do not.”
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” I pointed out. “The three of you all have special gifts. You’re all different, but when you work together the sky is the limit on what you can accomplish. I can’t wait until you’re teenagers and you decide to work as a unit against your mothers.”
“Why?” Bay asked.
“Because when your mothers were teenagers they made my hair go gray,” I replied, pointing to my mostly ashy hair. It was once dark and lush like Marnie and Clove’s, but time caught up with it years ago and I don’t have the energy to dye it. “My hair used to look just like Clove’s. Your mothers turned it this way.”
“How did they do that?”
“By doing the things you guys are going to do in a few years,” I said, measuring some hemlock and dumping it into the bowl.
“I can’t wait to be a teenager,” Thistle said. “That means we’ll get to stay out as late as we want.”
“And no naps,” Bay added.
“And we’ll get to date boys,” Clove said, giggling.
I fixed her with a dubious look. “You’re going to be boy crazy. I can already tell.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Your mother was boy crazy, too,” I answered. “In fact, all of your mothers were boy crazy when they were younger.”
“Now they’re just crazy about one boy,” Bay said. “Officer Terry makes them all go bonkers.”
I studied her for a moment, worried she was building up some great romance in her head. For a girl who wants a father, Terry is an awfully appealing figure. “Your mothers like to compete for Terry’s affection because they always want to win,” I explained. “I taught them that. What they do when Terry is around is more about them
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