He glanced at Mom, who refused to look up, and then back at me. Cringing away from my pointed stare, he sighed heavily.
“Vi and Mike were a couple. They were supposed to be married, and then Cecile came along and, well, that was it. Violet never met another guy like Mike.” My father hung his head.
“Vi has been carrying a torch for a dead guy all these years?” I said, looking from one parent to the other.
“Shhh! She’ll hear you. And I don’t appreciate your tone, Clytemnestra,” my mother said. “It was a tragedy the way he died. I felt terrible for Cecile, but it changed your aunt as well. There was a lot of bad feeling between Mike and Vi back then. Vi never had a chance to work through it.”
“What happened?” Diana asked.
My mother looked at Seth, who was listening intently. She and my father exchanged a look.
“Joe Stark and Mike Jones were business partners. They owned the restaurant together, but Mike had a larger stake.” Mom hesitated and glanced at Seth but continued. “Vi claimed Cecile was a gold digger. Her father owned the auto repair shop on the outside of town, and she always felt she could do better. She wanted to be respected here in Crystal Haven even if she didn’t have any psychic abilities. When things fell apart with Vi and Mike, Cecile ended up pregnant. Cecile and Mike got married. It wasn’t long after that he was dead.”
“Wow, I never knew any of this,” Alex said.
“It was a long time ago. But sometimes, for Vi, I think it’s still happening,” my mother said. She crossed her arms and gestured at us to eat.
*
After my mother’s revelations, and a few bites of dinner, the group scattered. Dad went off to listen to his police scanner, and Seth shuffled to his room with the dogs. Mom took her cards and the pendulum to Vi’s apartment. Alex and Diana had their own plans and unfortunately they involved me. It reminded me of when my grandmother had died. After the first shock of the death had passed, each person had his or her own way of coping.
“C’mon, Clyde. You need this,” Diana said as she took my hand and dragged me out of my chair.
Alex helped her push me toward the stairs, and I noticed he snagged the whiskey bottle on his way. At least they had their priorities straight.
Diana led the way up to my room. She and Alex had spent a lot of time there in high school discussing music, movies, parents, and our future plans. Her large tote bag bulged and clanked as she took each step. I had a lot of experience with that Mary Poppins bag, and not all of it was good. I looked to Alex for help but all he did was shrug and hold up the bottle.
My room hadn’t changed much since high school. I’d left everything behind when I moved to Ann Arbor. The color scheme was sky blue and dark brown, very trendy at the time. The bedspread was a swirly floral thing in brown and blue that I had loved when mom brought it home. Nancy Drew and Agatha Christie still dominated the bookcase. My shelves were cluttered with the combination of my current life and my previous one. My holster shared space with stuffed animals. Softball trophies had been pushed aside to accommodate my laptop and printer. The desk faced the large window that looked over the backyard and was cluttered with phone chargers, dog treats, and extra leashes. Alex and I sat on the bed while Diana set up her items on the desk.
“I should have done this after you found Sara’s body, but now the situation is out of control. We need to do a few different rituals, but they’re all simple. Don’t worry.” She fished around in the bag and pulled out a small glass jar, a package of needles, a package of razor blades, a paper bag, and a drinking glass.
I had seen this setup before.
“I don’t want to do this one,” I said as she put the glass in the bag and smashed it with the base of a trophy from the desk.
“What are you doing, Diana?” Alex wiped his mouth and passed the bottle to me.
“I’m making a very strong protective spell for Clyde if she’ll stop whining and just do what I say.” She dumped the broken shards, the needles, and the razor blades into the glass jar.
“No, forget it. That’s disgusting.” I held up my hand to ward off her offering of the jar filled with sharp objects.
“It works, Clyde. You’ve been close to murder twice in the last couple of days. You need protection, and this is one of the simplest spells I know that you can do for yourself.”
“Then let’s do a complicated one.”
“What does she have to do, put her hand in there?” Alex asked, taking the jar and peering inside.
“She wants me to fill it with urine,” I said.
Alex made a face and shoved it back at Diana.
“Wiccans are sick!” he said.
Diana rolled her eyes at both of us.
“Okay, fine. But this protection lasts at least a year, maybe longer. As long as no one digs it up, you’re good.”
“You have to bury it?”