Page 8 of A Cursed Noel
We rarely bother withlights anymore. It doesn’t change anything. There’s only darknesswith Dad gone. He no longer whistles as he leaves his suite, ready tostart his day. No longer laughs hard enough to shake the walls.
Quiet has silenced histune as well as his booming laughter. And his strength, the glue thatmade us all one? Yeah, that left us, too.
With his absence thesilence is more pronounced, and the melancholy is as loud as anymournful word. Still, that’s not what I focus on. Not with Momcrying as hard as she is in this memory.
Rain splatters againstthe stained-glass window overlooking the foyer. The raindrops startslow, a staccato of pitter patters that gain momentum with eachwretched sob my mother unleashes. She’s in agony, the force of herbroken heart more painful than any blow I ever gave.
This wasn’t the daywe found out my father was dead. It wasn’t even the day of hisservice. It was mere days before I left on this last mission, hermourning as raw as the moment we felt him leave this earth.
Instead of rushing into comfort her, to tell her that I hurt, too, and that no matterwhat, we still have each other—instead of simply beingpresent,I take a seat outside the door like a coward.
One leg is bent againstmy chest, the other leg is stretched out motionless. My stare isblank. There are no tears, just all the ugly that comes with beingweak.
Weak. That’s what Iam when it comes to my mother. It’s pathetic, especially since hopeis what she needs.
I find enough muscle tostand and stagger in the direction of my room, leaving my motheralone. I stop in place when her voice screams through the door. “Whydid you leave me, Aidan? I can’t make it on my own.”
My breath releases hardenough to rattle my chest. My mother feels abandoned. As I watchmyself walk away, I can’t deny she’s wrong.
The image fades asfluidly as it arrives. Mimi is known for cruelty. I never experiencedit firsthand until now. I round on her, yelling at the top of mylungs. “What’s your problem?”
“I don’t have aproblem. You do.” She jumps off the log, her ragged cloak flappingas she levitates toward me.
“Oh, yeah? And what’sthat?” I snarl.
“Hmm, how can I putit?” She holds up a crooked finger. “Oh, I know. You’re anasshole.”
“What?” Ijab my finger at her. “You come on my land—unwelcomed andunwanted—showing me things you shouldn’t be showing me and insultme likeI’mthe wacko?”
Light explodes in frontof me and another image of me appears. It’s brief but it’senough.
Liam is chasing afterme, telling me to wait. He reaches for me and tries to place his armaround my shoulder. I shove him harder than I should, knocking him tothe ground and leaving him winded. Koda rushes forward, growling, andready to punch me square in the face for hurting our friend.
If not for Gemini andhis twin wolf, holding him back, Koda and me would have come toblows. I reward Gemini’s effort with a stiff middle finger and anot-so polite request for all of them to fuck off.
Mimi nods at the imageas it fades. “I take it back. You’re a rudeandselfishasshole.”
I loom over her,bordering on violence, and she just squints at me. I start to tellher to take a flying leap when I realize I can’t speak, or move,or….
Great, she just hexedme, and I just let her. I glance down at my navel. No fangs arepuncturing through my shirt. Not yet. I still have all of my toes, Ithink. But that’s about all I can say.
Mimi reaches inside hercloak sleeve. She pulls out a porcelain cup with a giant yellow roseat its center filled to the brim with steaming tea.
She eyes me up anddown.
“Hmm,” she says.“This might be worse than I thought.”
She levitates back andforth, pondering things a hag probably shouldn’t ponder. This isfantastic. I’m supposed to be getting Mom dinner. Instead, I’mfrozen stiff with a maniacal witch contemplating ways to torture me.
I focus hard, managingto make my hand move just a little. Mimi takes a sip of her tea andslaps the back of my hand hard enough to sting yet steady enough notto spill a drop from her cup.
“Stop it,” shesays. “I won’t tolerate any distractions.” She pauses, beamingand pointing. “Distraction. That’s what you need, and I know justthe gal to do the distracting!”
My features sour.Agirl, really?I think back to the female at the airport with theglittery sign.Good luck with that one.
She throws back herhead, cackling like she heard me, but then it’s like the commonsense she lacks jars the humor right out of her.
“No. Mustn’t toywith the space-time continuum. No, no, no. Magic doesn’t like that.Perfect balance and all.” She resumes her levitated pacing but onlymanages a few strides. “Unless it’s brief and for the benefit ofgood,” she reasons.