The Witches of Snyder Farms (The Wicked Garden Series) (5 page)

“And what if you and Mom
don’t work out, and you leave? I’d be without a job and without a scholarship and I’d force myself to give the money back. Besides, I just don’t think I can take money I haven’t earned,” she said.

“It’s a gift, Ame! And yes, you have earned it.
You’ve been a rock-star daughter for taking care of your mother as long as you have—and for taking care of yourself. You don’t have to prove anything to me, Ame. I know what kind of person you are, and taking money from someone who loves you isn’t going to stop you from becoming the woman you want to be. In fact, learning to
receive
can only
help
you become the woman you want to be. You have to find some balance. Spreading yourself too thin, giving too much of yourself away, and never taking anything back will only make you bitter, and you’re way too young to be bitter.”

“
I’ll think about it, Eli-with-an-I.” He could tell by the look on her face that she really would, and he was slightly surprised to discover how happy that made him.

“In the meantime, let’s go shopping for a prom dress.”

“No way, Eli-with-an-I. I have never worn a store-bought dress to a dance, and I’m not about to start now. Great Grand Mama, Grand Mama, Cindy, Holly, my mother, and I always get together to make dresses for Holly and me. It’s totally special—sacred, even. Some of the only memories I have of my mom happy are from when we were working together on those dresses.”

Eli was struggling to not look crestfallen. Ame could tell that he wanted desperately to give her something. He really did want to help her.

“All right,” she said, “I’ve thought it over. I’ll take the damn money. But here’s the thing, Eli…”

Ame’s voice drifted away and her gaze wandered, as if she was watching an absolutely amazing scene visible only to her.

“And the thing is…,” Eli asked.

Ame looked mystified. “What thing? Oh, right… Um, yeah, I don’t remember what the thing was. I’m going to be honest with you, Eli-with-an-I. It’s possible that I’m just a
little bit
stoned.”

Eli burst into laughter.
They were both thoroughly baked.

“Teenagers shouldn’t worry this much,” he said.

“Hence the need for weed,” she said with a smile.

Eli looked serious again for a moment.
“A very wise man—my father, in fact—once told me to never use a drug as a crutch. You should use it to run
toward
something, but never use it to run
away
from a problem you need to face.” Eli pushed away a niggling awareness of his own hypocrisy, given his history of
totally
not heeding this particular bit of fatherly counsel.

She nodded her head. “That
is
wise, and you’re right: I do use pot as a crutch. I know it makes me dumb and weak, and I
hate
being weak. Good advice, Eli. I think I can handle having you in my life.”

Eli’s heart soared.

“I know my mom thinks you’re Hermes, but you’re starting to remind me a little of the Horned God. He’s my
sacred
father—the closest thing I have to a
real
father. You know what an asshole my dad was.  I hated that man with everything I am.”

Eli pushed down his anger toward
Troy and held his arms out to Ame. She sat on his lap and laid her head on his shoulder. “What was my mama like in college, Eli-with-an-I?”

Eli
snuggled his head against hers. “She was a beautiful free spirit. She was in love with the world and with life. She painted and read and dreamt and sewed and danced. Good god, when that girl danced the whole world was the better for it.”

Eli could tell Ame was on
the edge of tears again. “Dancing. Another thing I’ve never seen her do.”

“I’m sorry for that, but I promise if it’s the last thing I do, I will find a way to make her dance
like a witchy bohemian priestess again.”

She shook her head, and sn
uggled in closer to his chest. “I wish you would have been the one to raise me instead of my real dad, Eli-with-an-I,” she said. Eli could tell how hard it was for her to let her guard down, and he gently rubbed her long red hair trying to make it a little easier. He remembered her flinching at his embrace just that morning.

“Me
, too, Ame-with-an-E. Me, too.”

Suzy-Q waltzed into the barn, and sat at their feet, and suddenly Ame had a weird sensation as she stared off into space.

“He’s the messenger, Suzy-Q,” she whispered toward the dog.

“What?” Eli asked.

“Nothing.”

Ame rolled off his lap, and began digging inside the old chest as if there was a secret she had just remembered buried at the bottom.

“Chips?” she offered.

“God
s, yes!” Eli cried, and ripped the bag of snacks out of her hand.

∞

Gretchel could hear the music from outside. She didn’t listen to music anymore. It made her emotional no matter what song played, and she was still getting used to having emotions again.  But the rhythm still moved her. The rhythm always moved her, whether she wanted it to or not.

She walked into the barn to see
Eli and Ame dancing and singing along with early Fleetwood Mac – with Bob Welch. Gretchel knew this song. She tried not to grin.
Damn him
, she thought. There was a pile of junk food remnants lying in between the beanbags at the back of the barn. Gretchel was young once, and she knew exactly what had taken place. Her own youthful experiences did nothing to diminish the anger that surged through her body. If anything, her memories fueled the rage. The last thing in the world she wanted was for Ame to follow her example.

She stomped up to Eli, who swiftly let go of Ame
’s hand and twirled Gretchel around the dusty barn floor in her bare feet.

“Stop it!”
She fought, trying to escape his arms, but he swirled her around anyway.

“I want to see you dance
again,” he said as he pulled her close.

“Forget it
.” From her tone of voice, Eli understood that she was not going to be persuaded. He let her go, and waited for the outburst that he knew was coming. He didn’t have long to wait.

“What
I
want is for you to tell me why the
hell
you thought it was okay to get my daughter high?”

“Uh....” he stammered
.

“I got
him
high, Mother,” Ame announced coolly. Then she walked to the boombox, turned it off, and started to brush Epona’s mane.

Gretchel snarled and gave Eli the meanest glare she could muster.

He kissed her full on the mouth.

Gretchel pulled herself away. “This is
not
funny, Eli. If you want to get high, that’s your business, but don’t you
ever
do it with my daughter again.”

“I’m sorry, Gretchel.” Eli was suddenly hot with shame.

“And you,” Gretchel said as she turned to Ame. “
Go. Inside. Now.
”

Ame didn’t even look at her mother. She just kept brushing Epona. “Pretty high-and-mighty for someone who was an alcoholic by the age of nineteen, wouldn’t you say, Eli?”

“Careful, Ame,” Eli said quietly.

Gretchel fumed. “Inside. Both of you.”

“God, she’s such a buzzkill,” Ame groaned.

“Are you a buzzkill?” Eli asked in a baffled tone. “I don’t remember you being a buzzkill.”

“At the moment,” Gretchel growled, “I am doing my very best to not knock both your heads together.”

Gretchel realized that the love of her life and her daughter were teaming up against her, and she found that she didn’t entirely mind.

Eli leaned in and rested his forehead against hers. “Hmmm, not cracking our skulls. Not good enough, Gretchel.”

“
All right then. I’ll make brownies. Just this once.”

“That will do. That will do nicely.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Irvine, 2010s

             
Gretchel got back from her morning run to find a note from Eli. He had decided to spend the day helping Marcus in the fields. At lunch time, she packed a basket full of sandwiches, salad, and iced tea on the back of Marcus’s four-wheeler and went looking for her brother and her lover. She tried to suppress memories of doing this same thing many times in the past, for other men…

             
When Eli caught sight of Gretchel, he stopped the tractor he was driving and climbed down from the cab. His shirt was off, his jeans were dusty, and he was sporting a straw cowboy hat. Gretchel smiled and bit her lip. “Since when are you a farm boy?” she asked.

             
Eli tried his best to look wounded. “I’ll have you know that I’m a partner in an olive farm back in Oregon.”

“Don’t you mean ‘investor?’ Or ‘financial backer,’ maybe?”

Now Eli was slightly aggrieved. “Yes, I did supply the money to get the venture started, and my friend, Andy, managed the day-to-day operations, but I spent plenty of time working right beside him.”

Gretchel wasn’t quite ready to let it go. “Oh, how noble!
A rich boy like you, tilling the soil like a common peasant.”

“
We both know I grew up in a wealthy family, Gretchel, but that doesn’t mean I was spoiled. I was raised to be helpful—no matter what helping might mean—and taught to enjoy whatever task was put in front of me. Honestly, I’m disappointed that you could know me as well as you do and still insist on projecting shallow, reality-TVish stereotypes onto me.”

“I’m sorry, Eli.” Gretchel bowed her head, looking truly abashed. “You
know, during the Flood of ’93, this whole bottom land was covered in water. Marcus lost a good percentage of the crops. I had a new baby, but even I did what I could to help. Troy didn’t do a damn thing. In fact, he told Marcus it was his punishment for being the child of a witch.”

Eli’s jaw dropped.

“It took five strong farmhands to keep my brother from killing him. So, I’m sorry. I know that you’re not Troy.”

“
Gee, thanks. Glad we’ve got that straight, at least,” Eli said under his breath.

“Where did you get the hat?” Gretchel asked
brightly, intentionally changing the subject.

“It was in your closet,”
Eli replied with a sheepish grin. “Hope you don’t mind.”

They both sat on the f
our-wheeler facing each other.

“I don’t mind at all. You look quite sexy in it.” Gretchel poked at her salad. Apparently, she was not going to be able to escape the ghosts of farmhands past. “That hat belonged to the man who was with me when I shot the buck that hangs in the cottage. He was my Mad Hatter. He taught me a lot about life.”

Eli could tell that there was a whole lot Gretchel was leaving unsaid, but he knew better than to push her. He tried to recollect that farmhand’s name. She’d told him before–he knew it—but he couldn’t recall it. Oh, well. He wasn’t all that interested in trolling through the past when he had the woman of his dreams right here in the present. He finished his sandwich, took a drink of tea, and grabbed her around her waist. “So, were you fond of this Mad Hatter?” he asked with a bit of a grin.

“I was
indeed,” she giggled, playfully slapping at the bill of the hat.

“And was he fond of you?”

“Oh, it was a mutual fondness, yes.”

“And did this fondness turn into fondling?”

“Mutual, of course,” she grinned wickedly.

“And were you fond of his fondling?”

“Very fond of it, but it was mostly for educational purposes,” she laughed.

“And why didn’t you ride off into the sunset at five miles an hour on a tractor with this
farm boy you were so very fond of, and who was so very fond of you?” he asked, tickling her ribs.

“Be
cause I was twelve and he was twenty-two,” she whispered, pressing her lips against Eli’s before he could utter another word.

Part of him was aghast, disturbed by this latest revelation from Gretchel’s history. But part of him—an increasingly insistent part—was reluctant to turn this moment into a therapy session. It took him about three seconds to decide that, whatever trauma there was lurking in that story, Gretchel didn’t seem traumatized right now.

She pulled him off the four-wheeler and to the tractor.

“
Climb in,” she said with a devilish smile.

“There’s no
t enough room in there!”

“Oh
, there’s plenty of room. Trust me.”

∞

“I don’t think we should go without you, Gretchel,” Eli said. It was Monday morning and he and Ame were ready to buy that car he had promised her.

“Eli, it’s fine really. Just pick something. The last place in the world I want to be is a car dealership.” She shuddered at the thought.

Troy had been manager and top salesman at Sunset Motors. Eli and Ame had hoped that a new car might entice Gretchel to leave Snyder Farms, but he realized—belatedly—that car-shopping was maybe not the best way to tempt Gretchel back out into the world.

“I don’t want to leave the cottage. I feel safe here. Really.”

“All right, Gretchel.” However, Eli wasn’t quite ready to give up. “I have a few presents for you, though. Some of them you’ll have to earn, though. One is a big and you won’t get it until I take you to St. Louis for a weekend getaway in a few weeks,” he said.

“
If I recall correctly, your presents are always exactly what I want. But are they really gifts if I have to earn them Mr. Stewart?”

“Let’s argue semantics, Mrs. Shea.”

“Ms. Bloome, if you don’t mind.”

Eli winced at his error. He knew she didn’t want any part of Troy anymore, and certainly not his name. “Well,
Ms.
Bloome
, said gifts are in Teddy’s possession, and you must patronize his salon and spend the afternoon being pampered in order to collect them.”

She gave him the icicle eye.
“You’ve tricked me.”

“You should have known better when dealing with Hermes, my dear. It is one of his traits I use rarely, but effectively.”

“What is it? You don’t trust me to be alone for a few hours? You think I’m going to be hearing voices in your absence?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you
, it’s that I don’t trust that sinister spirit who is pestering you. I know nothing about her, and I cannot protect you from something I don’t understand. And besides, you just need to get out.” With that, Eli smiled, kissed her goodbye, and opened the front door. “Oh! And there’s one present that I would very much like to see you model upon my return.”

And there was Teddy, waiting on the threshold, a conspiratorial grin on his face.

As much as Gretchel dreaded going anywhere near uptown Irvine, Teddy’s salon had almost been her second home during her marriage—hell, given how she felt about the soulless McMansion Troy bought, the salon was essentially her
only
home. And she had always been safe in Teddy’s hands. 

∞

“Goodness gracious, Gretchel, you are radiant,” Teddy cried as he drove into town. She just grinned at him. “It’s the sex isn’t it?” She giggled and shrugged. “You’ve gained more weight, and I just can’t get over your glow!”

“Enough already,” she said.

“I’ll bet you never tell him that,” Teddy murmured.

Gretchel
snickered. It was good to see Teddy. He had been her best friend…. Well, forever. He had always been good for her. She smoothed out the wrinkles in the printed aqua sheath Teddy had picked out for her. His face had wrinkled in disgust as he surveyed the assortment of jeans, tatty camisoles, and old concert t-shirts she had been wearing for months. Teddy insisted that the blue-green was the perfect complement to her fiery red hair, and he had chosen a string of burnt-orange beads to complete the ensemble. She had to admit that it felt good to dress up a bit, but the necklace reminded her of the amethyst, and the amethyst reminded her of a sense of safety she no longer had. She focused on her breathing, and consciously decided to enjoy the day that her lover and her best friend had planned for her.

“Dare I ask if you’ve
talked to Eli about…”

Teddy didn’t have to finish his sentence.

“No! I don’t know how.”

“He’
s going to find out eventually. It would be best if it came from you.”

She shook her head.
“He’ll leave me.” She cursed herself for putting on mascara as she felt tears gathering.

“H
oney, he’s not going anywhere, but you have to tell him.”

“I hate secrets,” she
whispered plaintively.

Teddy snorted so
loud it nearly made him cough. “Please. You’re talking to the only person who knows just how many secrets you’re currently keeping.”

Teddy was never afraid to call Gretchel on her own shit. She wiped her eyes—carefully—and laughed. “And I shall be forever grateful for your silences,” she said with as much solemnity as she could muster.

“I know that Gretchel, but the fact is that this is a secret you need to tell—at least to Eli.”

Gretchel put her head in her hands. She knew that Teddy was ri
ght—of course he was right—but she also knew that, if this particular secret came out, it might not drive Eli away, but it would undoubtedly lead to more questions. Questions she wasn’t ready to answer for anyone.

∞

Picking out a car for Gretchel had been easy. The black Mercedes sedan Eli had chosen was perfect—luxurious, but low-key. When Eli went to the dealership office to do the paperwork and complete the sale, Ame had been staring at a snappy little S12. She was still staring at it when he was done. After another half hour of staring, she gave in. She agreed to let Eli buy it for her. He knew Gretchel would be pissed, but he also knew that she would get over it.
Nothing’s unforgivable
, Eli thought to himself as Ame rolled down the window of the sports car and waved,
And at least we aren’t getting baked in the barn.

“Beat you
home,” Ame taunted.

“Take it easy.
This isn’t a toy,” he lectured. And then he smiled.
Home.
It was nice to have a new place to call home. It
was
his home. He had never felt so at home anywhere in his life, except for the house on Pringle Street maybe, but that was only when he was a kid, and, later, when Gretchel was there. That was the key. Gretchel was home to him now. If he could get Gretchel’s son back, they’d all be one big happy family. He seriously couldn’t wait.

He hopped in the new car
and decided it was time to turn his cell phone back on. He had given Gretchel, her mother, and Marcus his number in case of a Gretchel-esque emergency. This was the first time he had turned it on since he had gotten to Irvine. There was nobody in the world that he wanted to speak to at that moment. Except maybe Andy or his dad, but neither of them was big on phone conversations, either. The only person who called him with any regularity was his mother, and he sure wasn’t ready to talk to her.

He winced when he saw how many messages he had waiting for him. Most of them from his mother.

He took a deep breath, put his mobile on speakerphone, and prepared himself for a miserable ride back to Irvine.

The first message was cheerful enough.
Hello my darling son. Just checking in. Haven’t heard from you in a while. Call me.
The next message was classic Diana.
Eli! I have to talk to you. I’ve had a very vivid dream about the prophecy.
You must
call me.

I can’t find your father. If you’ve seen him or heard from him, call me.
There was nothing strange about Peter disappearing for a spell. Eli knew it, and Diana knew it. She was just trying to bait him.

Eli! Your father just came stumbling into the house covered in mud and blood. I know that doesn’t seem entirely out of character, but there is something wrong with him. He had a bad trip out in the woods, and he’s not making any sense.
Not making sense wasn’t entirely out of character either… But having a bad trip was. Eli checked the time stamp. His mother had called the same night that the Woman in Wool had returned to Snyder Farms. Eli didn’t know what to make of that, but he didn’t like it. 

Eli! Turn your goddamn phone on!
And, with that, everything was back to normal. “Turn your goddamn phone on!” was his mother’s most oft-uttered message. Eli got a perverse kick out of its paradoxical nature—it was an order that would never be delivered as long as he refused to turn his goddamn phone on.