Witchdependence Day: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Shorts Book 8) by Amanda M. Lee Page B

nothing if not predictable,” Bay said.
    “Are you calling me boring?”
    “I’m calling you the handsomest man I know,” Bay replied.
    “Nice one,” Thistle said, laughing as Landon rolled his eyes. “All men love a good ego boost in the morning, especially if they’re contemplating a career change.”
    “Career change?” I was confused.
    “Landon wants to be your nurse,” Thistle said. “I hear he’s going to try giving you a sponge bath before he makes his final decision.”
    Thistle delightedly darted out of my reach as she did a little dance on the pathway. Bay joined in her laughter as Landon locked eyes with me.
    “I blame you for this,” Landon said. “You’re the one who made me look at your toe.”
    “No one said you had to get on the ground with me,” I pointed out. “That’s what made the whole thing weird.”
    “You have a point,” Landon muttered.
    We lapsed into comfortable silence as we made the trek to The Overlook, Bay and Landon swinging their joined hands as Thistle carefully drew closer to me. I think she was worried I would pay her back for the “sponge bath” comment, but I was already over it. Er, well, mostly.
    The entry to the family living quarters at the back of The Overlook is generally quiet in the morning. Winnie, Marnie and Twila busy themselves with breakfast preparations early, and Aunt Tillie likes watching the morning news programs so she can hurl insults at the anchors and tell them how stupid they are.
    This morning was different.
    “That did it,” Winnie barked. “Call the police. I’m pressing charges.”
    “Against who?” Twila asked. “We have no idea what happened. For all we know a dog could’ve taken it.”
    “Or Aunt Tillie,” Marnie added. “She might be messing with us.”
    “I hadn’t considered that,” Winnie said. “Aunt Tillie!” Her screech was loud enough to jolt me, and when I risked a glance in Landon’s direction I found his face twisted with confusion.
    “What’s going on?” Bay asked, increasing her pace as she approached the back patio. “Did something happen?”
    “Yes, something happened,” Winnie said, gracing her daughter with a look that would’ve been comical under different circumstances but was outright frightening now. “We’ve been robbed.”
    “Is this about the pie again?” Landon asked, releasing Bay’s hand and moving his fingers to her hip. He looked ready to run if the morning conversation didn’t shift in a more appealing direction. “I understand losing the pie contest has upset you, but … it’s a pie. You can make another one. I suggest blackberry … and make it big so I can have three slices.”
    “Listen, glutton, no one is talking to you,” Winnie snapped. “This is much bigger than the pie. I’ve come to grips with losing my pie and never seeing it again. Stop smirking, Thistle! This is not about my pie!”
    “Oh, good, it’s meltdown morning at The Overlook,” Aunt Tillie drawled as she sauntered out the back door of the house and joined her nieces on the patio. “Does anyone want to tell me why all this screeching is going on? I’m trying to watch the news. They’re being real idiots this morning, and I don’t want to miss my daily laugh.”
    Winnie was in no mood for games, and when she swiveled in Aunt Tillie’s direction the persnickety elder aunt had the grace to look abashed. Winnie clearly meant business. “Did you steal my bread?”
    “Oh, man. Now the bread is missing? It really is the end times,” Landon intoned.
    Winnie ignored him as we joined everyone on the patio, her attention remaining fixed on Aunt Tillie. “It would be just like you to steal the bread as a joke. If you did, you’d better tell me. I’m not in the mood for games.”
    “Oh, and here I thought we were about to join in a rousing game of Ring Around the Rosie,” Aunt Tillie deadpanned. “Why would I take your bread? That really sounds nothing like me. I can’t list the ‘Bread Heist