Page 38 of Big Witch Energy

Being at the bar was a welcome distraction.

Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea, having Mina, a daily reminder of her dad, working in the Rose. But she kept showing up, day after day, early according to her mother’s reports. Josh usually tagged along. The compulsive need to prove he could lift more heavy objects than his sister—for no other reason than knowing that it bugged her—made for a productive competition. That meant that Gert was accomplishing more than she expected on a daily basis—something that was honestly unprecedented in the Wilton family.

“Dad texted me, says it’s time for your midmorning meds,” Mina said, holding up her sparkly blue cell phone. It went with her T-shirt and the bandana tied around her hair, both a shade of shocking arctic blue. “And then he said that if you’re on your feet at all, I’m supposed to ‘throw you in the nearest wheelbarrow and push you over to the clinic’ so he can yell at you. Does my dad think there are just wheelbarrows sitting unattended around on the island?”

“Your dad’s a man who enjoys a nice hyperbolic metaphor,” Caroline said, pulling her meds out of her purse and demonstrating that she was taking them.

Caroline was a little ashamed that she’d expected a couple of doctor’s kids to be soft, spoiled, unwilling to work—maybe years of dealing with her brothers had left her jaded. And she was mentally retracting those words. Both Hoult kids worked hard, and even if it was to spite each other, it was welcome. The area underneath the bar had been scrubbed and cleared for dismantling. The deep freeze had been defrosted and the frozen mozzarella sticks restacked by reverse expiration date. The keg lines had been untangled and removed. Josh had identified several kegs in the tap room that were well past their prime and put them in a “disposal” pile, most likely saving her family from a food poisoning–based lawsuit.

Mina snickered. “Thank you, Caroline.”

“For taking my meds without a wheelbarrow intervention?” Caroline asked.

“For talking to me like I’m a person,” Mina said, shrugging. “Despite the fact that I’m responsible for you being on those meds.”

“Well, you are a person,” Caroline noted. “But I’m not worried about you reinjuring me. I’m way more afraid that you will somehow detect everything I secretly hate about myself and throw it in my face.”

Mina marveled, “Wow.”

“Teenagers are terrifying,” Caroline replied.

“Only when provoked,” Mina insisted. “Look, Dad thinks he’s taking care of us, and that’s great. We appreciate it. But we worry about him. He doesn’t seem to understand that.”

Caroline’s head reared back at the sudden shift in conversation. Was this what it was like inside a teenager’s head?

Mina was still talking. “I can see that you like my dad. And I think my role in this whole dynamic is that I’m supposed to be a snotty jerk who yells in your face that you’ll never be my mom, but really, Josh and I just want our dad to be happy. We want him to have something, someone really, for himself. It would be nice if you were that something or someone. He likes you. I can tell.”

“I don’t know if this is appropriate,” Caroline said, shaking her head. “Your dad and I have a history that I don’t think I should talk about with you. There are rules about this sort of thing, I’m sure.”

“I respect rules,” Mina said, nodding. When Caroline pulled a doubtful face, she barked, “Hey! In the interest of setting those parameters, I think I should inform you, formally, that if you do anything to hurt my dad—or Josh, who also falls under my umbrella of protection, no matter what he thinks—I will destroy you.”

“Understood.” Caroline nodded. “Will I receive confirmation of this threat in writing?”

“No, I wouldn’t leave a paper trail,” Mina scoffed. “I’ll make it look like an accident…if anyone happens to find your body, which is unlikely.”

“I believe that you are capable of that,” Caroline said as Mina flounced off to follow whatever direction Cole gave her.

Gert returned from the office with a stack of invoices. “Mina made you take your meds?”

“Under threat of a wheelbarrow,” Caroline grumped while Gert sat next to her. Gert just sort of stared at Caroline. She’d never been one for jokes in the workplace.

“I don’t think we can save that one, Ma,” Wally huffed, pointing to the booth in the far rear corner of the barroom. It hadn’t been touched by the collapse. From her vantage point, Caroline couldn’t even see dust on the table. Will knew that between the two of them, Wally had a higher success rate of wheedling grace out of their mom, so he was sort of hovering in the periphery, not really doing anything, but appearing to be busy wiping down chairs. Appearing to be busy was his superpower.

“Are you saying that because you don’t want to have to carry it across the street to the salvage container, and the Dumpster is closer?” Caroline asked.

“No!” Wally cried. “I just think we should scrap it and get something nicer.”

Gert’s tone was much gentler. “Honey, new booths cost money, and we’re trying to save as much as possible. Please take the booth to the salvage container.”

“Can Caroline at least help?” Wally groaned. “These things are heavy!”

Caroline lifted her crutch from the floor and waved it at him, to remind him of her injured ankle. She winced at the strain that put on her ribs, but it proved her point. How was it that Wally was three years older than her and yet, he still sounded like a toddler?

“What about them?” Wally whined, chin-pointing to where Mina was standing on a stepladder dismantling the display of family memorabilia behind the bar and carefully taping it in bubble wrap. Cole was right next to her, measuring the space behind the bar. She only hoped Cole didn’t add to their misfortunes by knocking Mina off her ladder or something.

That wasn’t fair. Cole had been a sunny and steady presence in the barroom during the stressful cleanup process. He also had the uncanny ability to manage to find a single vision for the renovation through the cacophony of four battling Wilton voices. And he was easy on the eyes, which Caroline appreciated—all burly, bearded charm and big blue eyes. And while he might have fit her “not a local” requirement, it just didn’t feel right, picking up the big, old flirty signals Cole had been laying down since they’d met.

“Cole is busy,” Caroline’s mother reminded them. “And remember we’re handling the furniture removal because it reduces Cole’s bill.”

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