Spooky Spindle Page 3

  “I just have work,” I said. “Any time you come by should be fine.”

  “I need to go into the office at some point. I’ll come find you when I get back,” he said.

  “Great. Avoid my family at all costs,” I told him with a smile.

  “Oh, is it hard to have privacy here? I had no idea.” His eyes were twinkling, and I found myself smiling.

  After the guys left, Lark, Pep, and I went to check on Lizzie. She had been set up in her room on the fourth floor, which had once been my room. My mom had given it away when I had been off trying to make a life in New York, and I had quarters in the attic now.

  As I followed my cousins to Lizzie’s room, I saw a soft glow coming from under the door. When we went in, we found Lizzie was propped up in bed, but it was everything else I saw that made me blanch. I hadn’t been in the room in a while, and now that I’d seen it I was thinking I should have let more time pass.

  Lizzie’s comforter was a fluffy purple and the walls had been painted pink. The rug was green, and the pillows were also fluffy . . . and pink.

  Lizzie looked a bit delirious as we entered.

  “Hey, Lizzie, how are you feeling?” Lark asked, taking the desk chair while Pep and I shared a chair wide enough to be a love seat, which Lizzie had shoved into a corner of the room.

  “I’m flying,” cried Lizzie. She spread her arms wide from her position in bed.

  “You already did that tonight,” said Lark. “That’s what landed you with a broken arm.”

  “Yes, and I was amazing at it! Unlike you lot,” said Lizzie, her words slightly slurred.

  Pep leaned over to me and whispered, “Is she drunk?”

  “I think Cookie gave her something for the pain. It might have been wine,” I muttered.

  “She’s still insulting us, but somehow I like her better this way,” said Pep.

  I nodded.

  “Flying is the most incredible experience. Trust me, once you get good at it you’ll never look back,” said Lizzie encouragingly.

  Lark, the most literal-minded among us, couldn’t help arguing with her cousin. “You realize you’re the one who broke your arm, right? All three of us have flown before. None of us have sustained serious injuries. Unlike you,” she added after a pause.

  “Sometimes when you talk it’s very confusing,” said Lizzie. She was still smiling, but her blinking and out-of-focus eyes were starting to make me dizzy.

  “I agree with that,” said Pep. Lark glared at her sister.

  “I did have a question,” said Lizzie. “I’m not sure which one of you to ask since all three of you seem to be clueless in this area, but I have been trying to work it out for a while, and there’s nothing wrong with asking advice . . . even if it’s from witches who aren’t as smart as you are.”

  “Who do you think she’s talking to?” Lark asked me.

  “Herself. Definitely,” I said.

  “What did you want to ask us?” said Pep, whose curiosity was showing.

  “Well, it’s kind of a secret,” explained Lizzie conspiratorially. “I haven’t really told anyone. I’ve wanted to keep it on the down low.” She shifted a bit, as if she had suddenly remembered that she wasn’t entirely comfortable. Her broken arm was propped up on a bunch of pillows, and someone had helped her change into a roomy nightgown, probably Aunt Meg, who was usually the one who helped with picking out clothes.

  “What if I don’t want to keep it a secret?” Lark asked irritably.

  “You’ll do as I say or I’ll know why,” said her sister threateningly.

  “Fine,” muttered Lark.

  Lizzie leaned forward, then waited for a such a long time that I thought she had forgotten what she was going to say.

  We waited along with her, and at last her eyes widened and she gazed at each of us in turn.

  “Well? What did you think?” she asked.

  The three of us sane ones exchanged looks. I was starting to feel as though it was Cookie we were talking to.

  “You didn’t say anything,” I explained.

  “Oh, right. Um, maybe I said it in my head,” she said. When she still didn’t say anything, Pep asked, “What was it you wanted to tell us?”

  “I wanted to tell you that I have a slight . . . like, very tiny, itty bitty crush on Kip. It’s barely worth mentioning. He’s below me. I mean, kind of. He doesn’t know how to dress in a classy way. But he’s just so impressive and strong. Anyway, I knew none of you had any idea. It’s kind of new, so I thought I’d tell you. I just had a small question about it. Like really small. I don’t even know why I’m asking . . .” She paused.

  “So you haven’t been in love with him for years?” Lark asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Lizzie looked appalled.

  “Don’t mind her. She has no idea what she’s talking about,” said Pep.

  “I always thought she was the most confusing of you. I decided that it’s because she’s strictly irrational,” said Lizzie.

  Pep elbowed me hard in the ribs, while Lark looked like she was about to have a meltdown.

  I gasped in pain but got the message.

  “We really would like to hear about what’s going on. If you want to tell us. Lark agrees,” I said.

  Lizzie looked at Lark as if for confirmation. Our redheaded cousin smiled tightly but knew not to say anything more.

  “I know that if he thought I was in his league, he would date me,” Lizzie rambled. “That’s the thing. He probably just thinks I’m too good for him, so why bother. The other thing is that I’m not sure I should be dating him anyhow.”

  “Because you’re too good for him,” I supplied hopefully.

  “Exactly. I’m so glad you understand so completely,” said Lizzie, looking at me with relief.

  Lark shifted uncomfortably, as if she wanted to run around the room waving her hands as steam burst out of her ears.

  “Anyway. He thinks I’m too good for him. That’s true, so it’s a bit tricky. Just before you came in I was sitting here thinking of solutions to this problem,” said Lizzie.

  “Talking to him isn’t one of them?” Lark said.

  Pep gave her sister another death stare. I recognized it as her final warning.

  As we had feared, Lark’s interruption threw Lizzie off her stride. She blinked feverishly, having completely lost her thought train.

  “You were trying to figure out a way to let Kip know that the two of you could date. Talking to him is out of the question. May I ask why?” I said.

  “I just don’t think having a heart-to-heart conversation would be helpful,” said Lizzie.

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “Heart-to-hearts are completely wasted in relationships.”

  Secretly, I was relieved that Grant wasn’t here to hear any of this nonsense. If he heard me saying that having a serious conversation was pointless in a relationship, he’d probably call off our dating status immediately.

  Given that I got excited just at the thought of accidentally running into him, that would be awful.

  “I need another way to let him know I’d stoop to dating him,” Lizzie explained, speaking slowly, as if we were too dumb to understand anything more complicated.

  “Maybe it would help if you didn’t speak about it in those terms,” I suggested. “No one wants to think that the person they’re dating is stooping to their level.”

  “So you’re saying that I should lie?” Lizzie said, incredulous.

  “No, not exactly. I just think it would be better if you didn’t bring it up,” I explained.

  “I can do that. Not bring it up to him. A long time ago Mom told me that I shouldn’t talk about shaving my legs to guys either. I’ve never brought it up since. And she thinks I don’t listen to her,” said Lizzie.

  “I’m so glad that you understand,” I said, giving her an encouraging smile. “I guess I’m just not sure where you want to go from here. If you don’t want to talk to Kip and you don’t think he’ll say somethin
g to you on his own, what exactly were you thinking would happen?”

  I tried not to make it sound hurtful, it was just that she was so ridiculously unreasonable it was a bit difficult. Of course, you’d think I’d have been used to that by now. Lizzie was nothing if not unreasonable, day after day after day. It was another thing she had in common with my grandmother.

  “That’s where I thought you three would be helpful,” Lizzie explained, as if we should be delighted to be of service to her. “Obviously you won’t be helpful in the love department. None of you three could get a boyfriend to save your lives. I hope you don’t take offense to that. If I can’t be honest with my future boyfriend, the least I can do is to be honest with you three.”

  Luckily, she missed the looks that passed among us as she forged ahead describing her plan. “Not that any of you are un-datable. Obviously someday you’ll find somebody desperate enough. Don’t worry. It just hasn’t happened yet.”

  Pep sat back and started laughing into the sofa cushions. There really wasn’t anything else to do.

  These were Lizzie’s true thoughts, but she never would have uttered them out loud if Cookie hadn’t given her something for the pain in her arm. I was surer than ever that Cookie had in fact given her alcohol; whether my grandmother had known we’d visit Lizzie tonight I wasn’t sure, but either way, I was pretty sure that Lark would go away and cry while Pep would either thank my grandmother in person or send her an appreciative card.

  This was all just too good to miss.

  “I do hope Kip realizes that I’m funny,” Lizzie continued, oblivious to the reactions she was generating. “Pep, would you mind telling him when you have a minute how funny I am?” Her eyes had gone wider and more dilated, and I had a feeling she’d soon be asleep. Maybe mid-sentence, maybe not.

  “I’d be happy to tell him how funny you are. I promise. Maybe I should tell him to come check on you, too,” said Pep.

  “You must not do that. Under no circumstances can he see me like this. This is my favorite nightgown, but I look ridiculous. Mom said to always try and look good when a guy is around. This is not me trying. If he sees me like this he’ll never date me,” said Lizzie. “He might even think we’re on the same level.”

  “I see the dilemma there,” said Pep reassuringly. “I won’t tell him to come check on you then.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it,” said Lizzie. “Now, I’ve stalled long enough. Let me tell you my plan and how you three can assist me in it. Of course, first of all I’d like to express my appreciation for . . . you three listening.” She looked at us and smiled. She never actually managed to choke out a direct “Thank you.” Indirection was as close as it got.

  Again Lark looked like she wanted to freak out. Again her sister gave her a death stare that quelled her.

  “You want to make him a nice dinner,” I said.

  “I can’t cook,” said Lizzie.

  “You want to create a scavenger hunt with “I love you” at the end of it,” said Pep.

  “I couldn’t possibly talk about my feelings,” said Lizzie.

  “Because you can’t find them?” said Lark. Pep gave her the side-eye and she subsided again.

  “You want to start wearing sexy outfits,” I said.

  “It’s too cold for that,” said Lizzie.

  “I’m starting to run out of ideas,” Pep admitted.

  “You aren’t thinking in the right vein. We are witches. I plan on using that to my advantage,” said Lizzie.

  “You want to create a magical cage so that he will always be where you want him to be. Kind of like Cookie’s pet fire,” I said.

  “You want magical arrows to shoot at him so he has to go in the direction you want him to go in,” Pep suggested.

  “These are all terrible ideas. I’m surprised that I asked you three for help at all,” Lizzie said, incredulous again and now pouting as well.

  “You asked us to guess. We’ve never come up with ways to convince somebody to love us before,” said Pep.

  “This visit has cleared up a lot. What I want to know about, though, is a love potion,” Lizzie declared, getting to the point at last.

  For once my cousins and I were speechless.

  Chapter Five

  Far from letting us exit quickly, Lizzie’s request for a love potion meant we had to stick around even longer.

  Love potions for witches were usually a bad idea. As my mother liked to say, they were a recipe for disaster. Definitely pun on the word recipe. If you had to resort to a love potion, you had already lost. Lizzie was young and in love and didn’t care.

  “Do any of you know anything about them?” she asked.

  Pep and I both shook our heads. After a brief pause, Lark did too.

  “Do you know something about love potions?” Pep asked her sister, seeing the hesitation.

  Lark brushed her foot against the floor.

  “Not really. I’ve done a bit of reading. Purely accidental,” she said.

  Lizzie got more excited than I had ever seen her before. “Really? You have to tell me. I was hoping I’d find somebody who would know something about it. I figured since the three of you were loved-starved, you might be good candidates.”

  “I’m just going to ignore her. That’s really what I have to do, right?” Lark asked Pep and me in a whisper.

  “Just tell us what you know about love potions,” Pep said in delight. “Who were you planning on using a love potion on, anyway?”

  “I had no intention of using a love potion. Anyhow, most of what I read said they didn’t really work,” said Lark.

  Lizzie looked so disappointed that even Lark felt bad. “Why didn’t they work?” Lizzie asked.

  “Because finding the right combination of ingredients to spell emotions is very difficult. No one is really regarded as having done it well. The spell is always just a little bit off,” Lark explained. “And that can have unpredictable consequences.”

  “So, it’s a matter of determination and painstaking care,” said Lizzie.

  “That isn’t exactly what I said,” Lark shot back.

  Just then there was a knock on the door. Lizzie yelled “Come in” in a singsong voice, sinking lower into the covers as she did so. I had the distinct impression that she thought her one true love had come to check on her, despite her previously stated horror at the idea of having him see her in her nightgown.

  Cookie opened the door.

  When none of us moved, she motioned impatiently for us to come out into the hallway.

  We did.

  My first inclination was to say something about the amount of wine she must have given Lizzie, but when I caught sight of my grandmother’s face, all thoughts of wine flew out of my head.

  In short, she looked upset.

  “Did any of you do this?” She looked deadly serious.

  “Do what?” I asked.

  “The driveway,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “We don’t know what you’re talking about. We had been busy in here for the last hour. Before that we were at dinner,” I said.

  “Come with me. This is something you have to see for yourself,” she said.

  She led us to the foyer and headed for the front door. None of us were happy about it.

  “Do we really have to go outside again? It’s freezing and it takes forever to get dressed.” Pep asked.

  Cookie didn’t even bother to say anything. She just looked at her granddaughter. At that point Pep realized there was going to be no contradicting Cookie.

  Again.

  “Very well. I’ll get my coat,” Pep said.

  It took us about ten minutes to get dressed, and despite Cookie’s urgency I did it reluctantly. It was very late, and I was far and away ready for bed. After all the excitement of the evening, I was tired. However, given how nervous and upset Cookie was, I had a feeling that this was big. Sad to say, I probably wasn’t going to get to bed any time soon. I just hoped it wasn’t another dead body. The mo
nth wasn’t up yet, and Mom would be terribly disappointed.

  When we were ready at last, we headed back to the foyer and followed Cookie outside. Her puppy dog flame reappeared as soon as she was out the door, this time an even bigger fire, because that was apparently what she needed for what she was about to show us. If we walked near enough, the pet fire actually kept us kind of warm. The gusting wind didn’t seem to have any effect on it at all.

  I was starting to get a little angry with my mother about that fire. If she hadn’t been angry with Cookie about it, we could be taking advantage of it all the time.

  But I couldn’t dwell on that right now, I had to focus on staying close to Cookie. I tried to hope the big thing she said we had to see turned out to be a dud, but from the look on Cookie’s face when she’d come to get us, I knew it wasn’t.

  As she led us down the driveway, I spared a thought to wonder where Mom and Grant and the rest of them were. If they saw us going outside they’d definitely come to investigate, and I hoped they would. Cookie wasn’t making any effort to hide, so there was at least a chance.

  She led us to the end of the driveway, where we found the gates closed. Cookie had taken to making sure of that after the recent spate of murders.

  “If someone is going to get killed here, I’d at least like to know they’re on the property,” she had explained.

  “Excellent reasoning,” I had said.

  The gates were supposed to be protective. They were well spelled. Not only that, but the gargoyles would awake to defend us if any of the witches were threatened. However much I hoped nothing would happen, I figured that gargoyle involvement might also end up involving murder.

  Cookie was walking in front of us. Pep didn’t have that many inches on her, but she had enough to not be the shortest member of the family. It didn’t take me long to see what we were heading for now.

  Something luminous was shining in front of the gates. At first I thought it looked like a miniature Ferris wheel. It was bright and blue and it lit up the night sky around it. As we got closer, I thought maybe it was something drawn on the gates themselves. It certainly wasn’t moving with the wind.