Every Witch Way But Wicked (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery) by Amanda M. Lee

do.” I was uncomfortable being referred to as “poor Bay” – but I honestly wanted to hear his answer.
    “I didn’t disappear,” Landon shot back quickly. “I was recovering from a gunshot wound.”
    “That’s your excuse?” Aunt Tillie didn’t look impressed.
    “It’s not good enough for you? I did get shot saving you, after all?” Landon reminded her.
    “I didn’t need you to save me,” Aunt Tillie harrumphed. “I had the situation under control.”
    As unstoppable as she is, even I had doubts about her ability to stop a bullet with only her mind as a weapon. The doubts were relatively weak, though.
    “I’m sure you could have handled the situation,” Landon conceded, flashing his dimples again.
    “Those don’t work on me,” she warned him.
    “What don’t?”
    “Those dimples,” Aunt Tillie said.
    “I’m surprised you can see them with the sunglasses on,” Landon countered.
    Thistle, Clove and I all sucked in a sharp breath. Landon seemed surprised by our reaction.  It didn’t stop him from asking the question that we were all mentally warning him against. “Why are you wearing the sunglasses?”
    “I’m sick,” Aunt Tillie announced.
    “That’s terrible,” Brian interjected with an overt sympathy that could only be described as fake. “Do you have an eye infection?”
    “No, I don’t have an eye infection,” Aunt Tillie said irritably. “I’m allergic to oxygen.”
    Landon looked surprised. Brian looked doubtful. “I don’t think that’s really a thing,” he said.
    Thistle and I exchanged dubious looks. “Uh-oh,” she mouthed. I was actually kind of curious how Aunt Tillie would react. I was just glad Landon hadn’t said it. Aunt Tillie had once boasted she could shrink a man’s, um, unit. I didn’t want to risk Landon suffering that fate before I saw what he had to offer. Did I just think that? At least I didn’t say it out loud.
    “Are you calling me a liar?” Aunt Tillie challenged Brian.
    “I don’t think he’s calling you a liar,” Clove interjected helpfully. I couldn’t help but be a little irritated that she felt the need to race to Brian’s aid. I wanted to see Aunt Tillie unleash her full fury on him.
    I saw Thistle jerk spasmodically. If I had to guess, she’d kicked Clove under the table. She was clearly on my side -- as far as Brian was concerned, at least.
    “You’re not a liar,” Brian said hurriedly. “You’re very old, though. You might be senile.”
    My mouth dropped open in surprise. No way was Aunt Tillie going to stand for that.
    “What did you just say?” Aunt Tillie was incensed.
    “Um . . . I said that maybe you’re senile,” Brian looked suddenly uncomfortable. The fact that he was looking at my aunts and mom for help with the situation was humorous in itself. Despite Aunt Tillie’s obvious rage, though, he hadn’t tried to placate her. You had to admire his guts – or his rampant stupidity.
    “He just called me senile,” Aunt Tillie turned to me incredulously. I had insinuated that Aunt Tillie was senile several times in the past month alone. I didn’t think now was the time to point that out, though.
    “What are you going to do about it?” Hey, focusing Aunt Tillie’s rage on someone else – someone I didn’t trust – could only help me at this point.
    Aunt Tillie was suddenly standing. She was either going to curse him or dump his dinner on him. Both were mildly entertaining possibilities. To my surprise, Aunt Tillie turned on her heel and disappeared into the kitchen. I made a move to get up and follow her, but Twila stopped me.
    “I’ll go.”
    The entire table watched as Twila disappeared into the kitchen after Aunt Tillie rage-filled form. She was like a really tiny Hulk when she got like this. “Is she okay?” I couldn’t be sure, but I think the young redhead at the end of the table had asked the question.
    “She’s fine,” Marnie said dismissively. No one that shared in our dubious gene pool