What's a Witch to Do Part 24

"I said I'm fine," I snap. The bell rings again, and Billie looks at me. Consider my patience gone. I mutter, "G.o.ddess, just make them go away."

I roll my eyes and walk out. Two minutes of peace. I just want two stupid minutes- I stop dead, all color draining to my toes. My breath catches as it always seems to do around him. I wasn't ready. I can't handle this right now. Just hours ago those lips now pulled into a bright smile were on my most intimate places. Those eyes were full of awe and l.u.s.t as they roved my naked body. Now as they gaze into mine, all mirth leaves them. His smile fades too. I can't think of anything to say, I don't know what to do, so I flee into the back room. Something to do, I need something to do. I need to get the h.e.l.l out of here is what I need to do.

"Mona, what the h.e.l.l-" Billie starts.

"Bank," I blurt out. "I haven't been to the bank. I have to make a deposit, and we need ones." I rush over to the safe and punch in the code. Just as I stand, Adam steps in. I read his face, but can't tell if he's hurt or is just as embarra.s.sed as I am. I can't look at him, I can't ... I have to get out of here. "h.e.l.lo, Adam," I say as I grab my coat. "You're looking well this morning. Billie, I have another million errands to run today. I don't know when I'll be back. I have my cell if things get crazy."

"O-kay," she says, pierced eyebrow raised.

I rush out of the room and worm my way to the front door. "Mona, stop," Adam says coming behind me and taking my arm. "What is-"

I spin around. "I can't deal with this right now," I hiss in a low voice. "I can't be around you today. You need to stay in the store and fix this mess you made, okay? I will be fine alone. I'll be surrounded by people today. Just ... do this, please?" I pull my arm away. "I'm sorry."

He lets me go without protest. Don't know how I feel about that. I don't have a d.a.m.n clue about anything anymore.

Bank/Clay/phone calls/festival prep Bank: check. Gas up Auntie Sara's car: check. Video store: check. Thousand phone calls while at Starbucks: check. Visit my best friend who I almost got killed: check. (He's still really tired, so I make him a sandwich and let him nap.) Minutes spent at the shop: two, and Adam and I can't even look at each other, let alone talk. Good.

I give Billie the car keys to give to him before walking to the park where the vendor trucks are lined up and unloading their goodies for Friday's festival. Mechanics are already building the Ferris wheel and carousel, while builders hammer away on the stage for the pageant. I find Mayor Magda yelling at a man with mutton chops at the concession area. As he leaves, I walk over. "Sorry I'm late."

"Mona! How are you? Are you okay?"

If I had a nickel for every time someone asked me that ... "Fine. Ready to work."

"If you're up to it. I need someone supervising the games area."

"I'm on it." Just as I get to my station, a familiar silver Mercedes parks across the street, and Erica climbs out. My savior. She eyes a few of the cuter workmen as she saunters into the park. The tens of thousands of dollars she's spent to turn heads pay off as they return the favor. My fellow committee members Eileen and Yvonne all but run over to her.

As they fire questions, she leads them to me. "Well, of course I was afraid, but I just pushed it aside. I couldn't very well let three innocent people die."

"You are so brave," Eileen says. "An absolute hero."

"Oh, please don't call me that," Erica says with fake humility. "I just did what anyone would." She smiles, and I smile back. "Mona. How are you?"

"Fine. Thanks to you."

"And Clay and your other friend?"

"Both much better now."

"Glad to hear it." Erica turns to the women, all smiles. "I can't stay long. I just came to speak to Mona. Will you please excuse us?" As if she's my best friend, she slides her arm through mine and leads us to a more isolated part of the park. "You owe me six grand."

"What?"

"Your doctor friend put a stop on his check this morning."

"I'm sorry," I say.

"I mean, really Mona, after all the preaching about black and gray magic, you're so desperate for a man you compromise your morals?"

"I didn't. It was my nieces. I had no idea."

She pulls out her buzzing phone and begins texting. "Well, I don't suppose your cousin would agree to honor his bid of four thousand for dinner, would he?"

"What cousin? Clay?"

"No, the cute one. Adam, I think his name is? The one who almost died? He was the other bidder."

Well, knock me over with a feather. "He was?"

She keeps texting. "That's what I heard. So, would he?"

"I-I don't think so. Sorry."

"d.a.m.n it. Well, this is why I have a lawyer on retainer. I'll get her to call and scare the money out of that doctor. We broke a record, and I intend to keep it." She puts her cell away. "And I a.s.sume you know the cover story? About the bear? It was the best I could come up with on such short notice, though everyone knows the real story. At least people can't say I throw a boring party."

"I'm sorry," I say. "For everything."

"For accusing me of trying to kill you? You need to send flowers for that one, hon."

"I know. I was wrong. It's just, someone is trying to kill me, and they would have if it wasn't for you. I don't know why you did it, but thank you."

"Well, I couldn't very well have a demon attacking my guests. It's unseemly."

"Thank you just the same."

She nods. "You're welcome. See you at the coven meeting. And try and stay out of trouble." She nods again and walks away. That went better than I thought it would.

Adam was the mystery bidder? That doesn't make any sense. It takes twenty minutes to get to the country club from the house, and I had called him less than five minutes before I got on the stage. Which means ... he was already there. He ignored my order to stay home. But why? Why would he ... he was doing his job, protecting me. That's why he bid too, to keep me away from Guy, since he was suspicious of him. That's gotta be it. Right?

Oh h.e.l.l. The thoughts I've been attempting to keep at bay can no longer be contained. I had s.e.x with Adam last night. The fact is I've wanted to have s.e.x with him. For a few days. I admit that now, but the l.u.s.t from last night was brought on by sadness and fear, the joy of being alive. Intense situations have that effect. We almost died, and there's nothing more life-affirming than s.e.x. We acted on it, and now it's out of our systems. End of story.

I mean, he's leaving Sat.u.r.day. He'll be almost six hours away and long-distance relationships never work. He has a life up there, a job, a pack that needs him. Last night was an aberration. I've known him for eighteen years. Eighteen years with about thirty words exchanged, though I tried for more. The man would see me coming and walk away. He's probably as uncomfortable and freaked as I am. No, it was a one-off reaction to a life-and-death situation. I will not read anymore into it. I've learned my lesson from Guy. At least I got some o.r.g.a.s.ms out of it. Back to real life now.

"Hey, you in the wife beater," I shout. "We aren't paying you to check out my cousin's a.s.s! Get to work!"

Ugh. Men.

Get ready for rehearsal dinner "Cheyenne came into the store today," Billie tells me as she drives me to Goodnight Autocare. My car has four new tires, and I am officially broke. Thank you, Lilith. May you rot in h.e.l.l.

"What did the psychopath want?"

"To fawn over Adam. She seemed worried about him."

"She was technically responsible for his death. If she was capable of it, I'm sure she'd be drowning in guilt." I pause. Not that I care, but I ask, "How did he respond?"

"Well, he was in a p.i.s.sy mood all day, and it didn't get much better when she came. He shrugged her off, and she left in a huff."

"Oh." Good. We pull into the parking lot, and I get out. "Thanks for the ride."

I am so freaking exhausted that I write a five-hundred-dollar check for tires without even hyperventilating. Usually I'd need a Valium to survive that. It helps that I just spent five hours running around like a crazed harpy yelling at lazy workmen and organizing stuffed animals. Took it out of me. At least I was so preoccupied I couldn't brood. Now I can barely sign my own name. My future in-laws are going to think I'm an idiot if they engage me in conversation tonight. Greg's parents, Conrad and Gretchen, are lovely people. I could kiss them for paying for the whole wedding, but they are a tad sn.o.bbish. My drooling and grunting when they ask me questions will not improve their opinion of the McGregor clan.

Luckily driving doesn't require complex thought. The house is quiet when I walk in. The girls laze in front of the TV, but both sit straight up when I walk in. They're scared. They should be. If I could muster it, I'd be furious. I'll fake it as best I can. Their wide eyes follow me as I walk to the TV and smack the off b.u.t.ton. "Hope you enjoyed that show because it's the last one you'll be watching for a month."

"Aunt Mona-" Sophie says.

"I don't want to hear it," I snap. "Do you have any idea what you did? Do you have any idea how illegal what you did was, not to mention just plain wrong? You took away a man's free will. He could press charges and the F.R.E.A.K.S. could take you away. What the h.e.l.l were ya'll thinking?"

"We knew you liked him," Sophie says, "and we liked him too. We wanted you to be happy. If he loved you, you'd be happy."

"That isn't love," I say. "It's trickery and manipulation and downright evil toying with a person like that. Two people. I just ... I am so disappointed in you. Both. I can barely even look at you. Get upstairs. Get ready for the rehearsal. Get out of my sight."

Sophie hangs her head and takes her sister's hand, leading her past me. "Sorry, Aunt Mona," Cora says. A few seconds later a door shuts upstairs.

"Kind of hard on them, weren't you?" Adam asks.

I turn my gaze to the kitchen entrance where he stands. "What they did was illegal and dangerous. I have merely begun."

"Their hearts were in the right place."

"Well, if last night has taught me anything, it's letting your heart override your head only leads to misery. It is not a mistake I will ever make again."

"Then you're in for a very lonely existence."

I scoff. "Yeah, well, I've known that since I was twelve. Such is life."

He steps toward me. "Doesn't have to be."

I glance at his impa.s.sive face, my d.a.m.n stomach clenching again. Just stop it. "I have to get ready. Excuse me."

"Mona, we really need to-"

"Not now."

"When?"

"Not. Now."

I half expect him to follow me-and yes a little part of me wants him to-but he doesn't. When I get to my bedroom my stomach seizes again as I stare at the remnants from last night lying on the floor. Granny's old dress is nothing but rags, along with the Spanx and bra. Don't know how my panties survived the onslaught. I just want it all gone. Out of my d.a.m.n sight.

The Captain meows and jumps off the bed as I rip off the rumpled sheets. No reminders from my bad judgment can remain. I need to add laundry to my To Do list. After I make the bed, I start on myself. Oh joy of joys, I get to return to the country club to go through the ceremony and have dinner with the families. I'm sure the staff from my previous sojourn will be there tonight, and I will get many pitying looks. I settle on a light blue blouse and white skirt with sandals, slap on makeup, and brush my hair before stepping out. If the way I feel is any indication, I still look like h.e.l.l.

When I walk in the girls' room, they're both lying on Sophie's bed looking at a magazine and wearing their best floral print dresses and white sweaters. Without a word, I remove their TV and PS3, hiding them in my closet. The girls haven't moved when I return. "That is punishment number one. Of twenty. Put your shoes on, we gotta go."

"Do you hate us?" Cora asks pitifully. "Are you going to send us away now?"

She looks so much like Ivy at that age. She used to do this exact thing to Daddy when he punished her. The pout, the "if you loved me, you wouldn't do this" eyes. Manipulation at its finest. Not buying it. "No. Put your shoes on."

They do, and I all but push them down the hall. Adam is coming up the stairs just as we reach them. He smiles at the girls, saying, "You all look very pretty tonight."

"We're rehearsing dinner," Cora says.

"We should be back in about two, three hours," I say.

"You're not coming?" Sophie asks him.

"Girls, go wait by the door," I order. They obey without hesitation. "It's a small party. I wouldn't know how to explain you to Greg's family. The demon's dead, Cheyenne won't be there. I'll be safe."

I expect protests, but instead he says, "Fine. You're the boss. I could use a night off anyway." He walks up the stairs past me. "Being your houseboy takes it out of me."

"Excuse me? My what?"

He spins around, face hard and angry as a rattler. "Houseboy. You know, slave? Unpaid babysitter, cook, manual laborer, h.e.l.l even s.e.x toy."

"Keep your voice down," I hiss in a low voice as I step toward him. "And you volunteered to be here. I didn't ask you to do any of this."

"No, you're right. You didn't," he says with att.i.tude. "Don't know what the h.e.l.l I was thinking. I forgot, you're the woman who needs nothing and no one. Well, since you don't seem to need a bodyguard or anything else anymore, maybe it's time I left you and your delusions of grandeur alone."

"Well, maybe you should if you think I'm such a selfish, delusional b.i.t.c.h."

"Maybe I will."

"Good! Great!"

"Fine!" He stomps toward his room and slams the door shut.

"Perfect!" I shout before I stamp down the stairs. The girls stand there with the fear of G.o.d on their faces. "What? Move your b.u.t.ts! We're late!" I slam the door shut with a sad sigh.

Yeah, we have to go celebrate love. So why do I feel like I just gave its eulogy?

Rehearsal dinner I thought I'd have a breakdown or panic attack when I got to the country club, but there are no PTSD flashbacks or even apprehension as I pull up. The girls and I didn't say a word the whole ride, but by the looks on their faces they're about as miserable as I am. Hope we don't infect the rest of the party with our gloom.

They wedding party and families are a.s.sembled in the garden by the fountain with the two swans. The wedding planner, Jocasta, talks to the Reverend Potter, going over the details and pointing to the flowers on the hedges. Representing the McGregors are the beaming Debbie, Collins, and bridesmaids Becca, Kaylee, and Chelsea. I recognize Greg's parents, but the groomsmen and ushers, along with a crying three-year-old boy held by a thin woman, are strangers. Not for long, I'd guess. "Sorry we're late," I say as the girls and I walk down the steps. "Insane day."

"We heard," Gretchen, Greg's mother, says. "It must have been so frightening for you."

"What happened?" one of the groomsmen asks.

"There was a bear here last night," Gretchen says. "It attacked Mona here."

"Is it still around?" Becca asks.

"Animal control got it," I lie. "We'll be fine. Just a freak thing."

"Well, we're glad you're safe and sound," Conrad, Greg's father, says. "Reverend?"

The Reverend Potter smiles. "Everyone please follow me."

We meander down the gray pebble path toward the seven-foot-tall arch that will be covered with pink roses and daisies on Sunday. Jocasta takes over, telling us where to go, stand, and what to do. On the day I'll walk Debbie from the clubhouse, past the two hundred plus guests on either side of the path to the arch, where she will pledge her undying love to Greg. The rehearsal goes well with the girls relishing their flower girl duties, tossing imaginary petals with abandon. The ring bearer does begin to cry halfway through, but Debbie's future sister-in-law takes him away. We go through it twice, which takes an hour, then it's dinner time.