The Witches of Snyder Farms (The Wicked Garden Series) (3 page)

BOOK: The Witches of Snyder Farms (The Wicked Garden Series)
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“I’ve been hiding my identity most of my life because my mother is a tyrannical control freak, and my dad is a paradoxical paranoiac. They are both insane.” He quickly glanced at Gretchel. “Not that there is anything wrong with that.”

Gretchel rolled her eyes.

“In any case, it’s not as if anybody was looking for me—anybody who was a threat, I mean. Nobody knew that I existed as the person that I existed as, and it’s not as though it mattered anyway.”

“You’re talking in circles again, Eli,” Gretchel said.

“All right,” he said throwing his hands in the air. “Here’s the big secret: My mother is Diana Stewart. I’m sure you’ve heard of her. She’s written several bestsellers. She does lecture tours. She’s basically the high priestess of transpersonal psychology.”

“Yeah—”

“Carry on, Eli,” Gretchel interrupted.

“My grandparents—Diana’s parents—worked in LSD labs all over the world. Miranda Stewart—the late, great transpersonal psychologist of the 60s—was my grandmother. She knew Leary, Grof—all of them. So that’s the big secret. Well, half of it, anyway,” Eli mumbled.

Gretchel considered this information for a moment. “As intrigued as I am by your mother’s occupation, and absolutely astonished that Miranda Stewart—whose work I deeply respect— was your grandmother, it doesn’t explain why would you would have kept your identity secret. No offense, but your mom is not
that
big of a deal. Self-help and spiritual mumbo-jumbo aren’t exactly radical. I mean, is the Spanish Inquisition after her or something? Are bogus gurus selling enlightenment and cosmic awakening being burned at the stake these days?”

Ame, who had been listening intently to her mother, turned to see how Eli would counter this verbal attack.

Eli simply stared at Gretchel with disappointment in his eyes. “Remember, when you did ‘shrooms on your birthday, Gretchel.”

Ame’s eyes bugged and she could not suppress a crazy grin. Her mother ignored her—pointedly.

“What was that about, if not enlightenment and cosmic awakening? You know what I think, Gretchel? I don’t think it’s that you don’t believe. I think it’s that you’re afraid you’re going to miss out, that the cosmic awakening will leave you behind.”

Ame’s grin turned into a look of pure shock. She glanced at her mother and saw that Gretchel was giving Eli the death stare. 

Ame pushed her chair back from the table, stood up, and laid a hand on Eli’s shoulder. “Hate to tell you this Eli-with-an-I,” she whispered, “but you just stepped in a pile of shit.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

Irvine
, 2010s

After Gretchel stormed off to the bedroom, Eli took his time cleaning up the kitchen. Then he moved to the living room to mess with the fire, which they kept burning off and on during the cool days of spring. Eli poked at the smoldering logs, trying to calibrate just how long he should let Gretchel seethe. He was considering the vintage portraits on the mantelpiece when Ame came bouncing down the stairs.

“Hey, Ame-with-an-E, can you put names to these faces?” he asked.

“Hmmm...” she said, sitting on t
he arm of the storybook chair. “The first one is Bridget. She was my great-great-great grandmother. The second is Mary Catherine. I think she’s the one who built this cottage. And you already know Miss Poni and Grand Mama Elphame.”

Eli nodded his head silently as a disappoint
ed ripple worked its way through his body. No Carlin. He hated the thought of participating in his mother’s obsession, but he also knew that she would get off his back about the whole prophecy business if he could prove that Gretchel was the woman Diana was looking for.

“Excuse me,” Ame said,
nudging Eli from his reverie as she moved him out of her way with a hip bump He smiled at her and she smiled back. Then Ame’s smile dissolved into a pointed stare as she nodded her head away from the fireplace and out of the room. Eli took the not-so-subtle hint. When he took one surreptitious look back into the room, Ame was kneeling on the hearthstone and gazing at the buck’s head mounted on the wall.

Eli was wiping down an already spotless countertop when Ame came into the kitchen a few minutes later. She reached into her backpack, pulled something out, and offered it to him. It was a wad of cash. “Here’s most of the money back from the money order you sent. This is my first payment.”

Eli suppressed a chuckle. Ame was a never-ending source of astonishment. She was so much like her mother. She was what her mother might have been… 

“I don’t want your money. That was a gift. I just wanted to help you and your mom get by.”

“I have a job, and
that
helped us get by, Eli-with-an-I.” There was a steely note in Ame’s voice.

Eli almost reached out to touch Ame’s shoulder. Instead, he softened his voice. “I know that you’ve worked hard to take care of your family, Ame-with-an-E. But you can’t repay a gift. And now that I’m here, you can stop worrying. I can give you whatever you want.”

Ame’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of job do
you
have, Eli-with-an-I?”

“I don’t have a job.
I have an inheritance,” he explained.

“So, you’re a trust-fund baby. That must be nice for you. But that doesn’t mean that you can come in here and start changing things.”

“I think you and I both know that you mother could use some change.” Eli spoke as gently as he could.

Ame still looked defiant.
“I stand corrected. What I’m saying is, don’t make this into a Cinderella story, Eli-with-an-I. My mother married one man who controlled her with money, and she doesn’t need another.”

Eli began to object, but Ame’s glare stopped him. “And
I’m accustomed to paying my own way. My dad tried to make me beg for everything I got from him, and then he called me a spoiled brat. I learned pretty early on that the less I relied on him, the less power he had over me. I’ve never been poor, but Mom has, and seeing what it did to her scared the hell out of me. My parents taught me—without meaning to—that I need to take care of myself. So, Eli-with-an-I,
take the money
.” She held out the wad of cash again.

Damn
, she’s a pistol
, Eli thought with admiration. He knew that he was walking a very fine line here. He couldn’t pull any macho bullshit with Ame—not that pulling macho bullshit was his style. Be he couldn’t just back down, either. He needed Ame’s respect, and he was going to have to earn it.

“I don’t want to control you, Ame, and I think you know that, so why don’t we just cut the crap. I came here because I love your mother. That’s something you and I have in common: We both love your mother. Let’s try to remember that, because we’re not going to be able to do her any good—we’re not going to be able to help her heal the parts that are broken—if we’re fighting with each other.

“And here’s something else you should know: I love you, too.” Ame’s defiant stare was replaced with a look of surprise. “I’ve loved you since your mother put my hand on her belly and let me feel you kick. I will never forget that moment.

“I’m not trying to buy your love. Hell, even if you never love me, I will always love you—for your mom’s sake, and your own. But, before you reject me and my money, you might want to consider the fact that multiple years of college tuition—and we’re talking up to and including postgraduate degrees—wouldn’t even put a dent in my trust fund.”

A slow smile spread over Ame’s face. She cursed herself internally for showing even the slightest hint of surrender, but her father had never—
ever
—talked to her as kindly and as honestly as this relative stranger just had. She steeled herself.


Don’t you worry about college. I’m going to get a full-ride volleyball scholarship.”

Eli deflated slightly, and Ame was surprised to discove
r how bad that made her feel. “But if you really want to give me something, give my mother back to me—whole, healthy, happy. Give me back my little brother. Even though he’s a huge pain in my ass, my mom shouldn’t have to live without her son. If you want to give me something, give me a home that I’m psyched to come back to every night after busting my ass all day long.”

Eli smiled broadly.
“Do you realize everything you wished for was for your mother, with the exception of a happy home?”

“What’s your point?”

Eli shook his head. He just couldn’t get over this girl.

“What do you want besides a happy home
, Ame-with-an-E.  Aren’t you tired of driving Marcus’ old farm truck? Wouldn’t you like a new car? What do you want me to give
you
?”

“If you want to buy a car, buy one for my mom. She’s barely left Snyder Farms since we came here. She needs to be mobile again.”

“You haven’t answered my question. What can I give
you
?”

She
thought about it for a moment. He was hoping she would come up with something really grand that he could have delivered within a day.

“Give me your time, give me your honesty
, and give me something that will help me grow into the woman I want to become.”

Eli was
speechless, and almost moved to tears. His heartstrings were plucking the most beautiful song. He wished his father could meet this child.

“I can give you all of that.
I promise,” he whispered hoarsely, struggling to push out the words without letting go of a sob. “Now, how about something crazy? Anything your heart desires.”


Anything?”

“Anything.”

“I want to meet Graham Duncan.”

Eli choked on a cough.
It’s like she’s reading my mind.
“Another Duncan fan. Good grief! You know meeting him is close to impossible right?”

“You look like a guy who can pull off the impossible, Eli-with-an-I.” Ame gave him a skeptical glance. “I’m just kidding, obviously.”

Eli tried not to laugh. “Oh, no, no, no. I promise you right now that I will give you everything you have asked for.” He gave her a little bow.

Ame rewarded him with an ironic smile and a slow clap. “Fabulous. Now, if you will excuse me
I’ve got go to another volleyball tournament that my mom won’t be at, possibly stop by the fabric store for material to make my prom dress, and then I work until seven, after which I’ll come back here, do my chores, and try to find Uncle Marcus to help me with two weeks of physics homework so I don’t have to worry about it over my spring break which officially starts tomorrow.

Adopting a far-away glance, she continued. “Alt
hough I might close my eyes for a bit and wonder what it would be like to spend time with a boyfriend I never get to see, and dream about the stories I’ll never have time to write. It’s an ideal Saturday in the life of a goddess-in-training, I know. But what can I say? I’m only young once. Later.”

Then she swanned out the door.

Eli’s head was spinning as he heard her get into the old farm truck and speed away. This girl was in over her head. Of course, she was quite tall, so maybe not. He was, on the other hand, absolutely certain that
he
was in over
his
head—and that was even after accounting for inches added by curly hair.

 


 

Buoyed by his conversation with Ame, Eli was ready to face Gretchel. When he opened the door to the room they shared, he saw her curled up on the bed reading one of Graham Duncan’s earlier novels

Graham Duncan again. He was inescapable.

Eli cocked his head to the side and observed his lover. She was gorgeous. Even in threadbare yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt, she was gorgeous. He sighed.

Eli perched on the edge of the bed. He could tell that she was still pissed. He decided to proceed gently.

“I took care of the fire.”

“Thank you.” Gretchel spoke without looking up from her book.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in front of Ame earlier. What you said just struck me as incredibly cynical, and I know that you’re not a cynical person.”

She rolled over
—away from him—and turned a page. “I’ve been through hell and back several times, Eli. Hades thinks I’m Persephone. He’s signed me up for frequent flier miles, so that gives me every right to be as cynical as I want to be.”


You are such a drama queen!”

“Excuse me?” she said, slamming
down her book and turning to face him.

“Just trying to get your attention.” He leaned in to steal a kiss, and was gratified to discover that she didn’t want it to end when he withdrew.

Eli looked at the book that Gretchel had dropped. “Don’t live your life vicariously through Graham Duncan, Gretchel. He’s crazy. Wise, but crazy.”

“What
is
your problem with Graham Duncan? If anyone is going to usher in this cosmic awakening you’re so excited about, my bet’s on him. He inspires people to fight ego and raise hell against the status quo. Please remind me, what is it that you
do
, exactly? Has it occurred to you that you’re the one being left behind?”

Eli gasped, clutched at an imaginary dagger wound to the chest, and fell backwards onto the bed.

“Gretchel,
you misunderstand me. I think that Graham Duncan is brilliant, too. His writing does things to me that I can’t even begin to explain. His genius throws me into a state of unparalleled admiration. Every sentence, every metaphor, every page is like a strawberry sundae on a hundred-degree day. My reverence for him comes dangerously close to worship.

“And, yes: You’ve seen through my facade. I envy him. I do.
I envy him because his talent and insight is driven by a need to create and a respect for individualism and self-reliance. I envy him because he creates effortlessly, and the only way I can do it is when I have a beautiful redheaded muse sitting close to me. I envy him because he doesn’t feel compelled to explain his motives to anyone. And I envy Duncan because you’re obviously totally in love with him.”

She smiled sweetly.
“Then I guess I shouldn’t tell you I was just daydreaming of him and me canoodling in a lovely meadow.”


I shudder to think what that man would do to you,” he mumbled.


Then it’s a good thing it’s just a daydream.”

They stared each other down, stubborn smirks on both
their faces.

“Let’s get out of the house,” he said
, changing the subject. “Is there anyone you want to go see? You can take the rental if you’d like to go alone.”

“No, thanks. After too many years of all that suburban, country-club crap, I’m home, and this is where I want to be. The only people I care about are here—well, except for Teddy, and he knows where to find me.”

Eli could tell by the momentary sadness in her eyes that Gretchel was thinking about Zach, too, and that his absence was too distressing to mention. Eli didn’t push her.

“Ame has a volleyball game. I’d like to see her play. And she
wants
you
to see her play.”

Gretchel rolled her eyes.
“Oh, gods. You have no idea how many volleyball games I’ve watched, so don’t bother trying to guilt me into going to this one. I don’t feel like leaving the house yet. I’m still a widow in mourning,” she insisted, her face drawn into a tragic grimace.

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