Page 17 of The Main Event

“It was actually pretty funny.” Levi’s grin was mischievous. “Delilah melted down because her napkins were supposed to be orchid purple and they arrived in iris purple. Then the parents started complaining that only purple drinks were available. Then Tammy, per usual, wanted to chuck the cake because she said it was a conduit to Hell.”

Mom stopped even pretending she was stretching. “Like … a sin on the lips is seven years on your hips?” she asked. “Is that the sort of conduit to Hell we’re talking about?”

“No, Tammy is a bit of a religious nut,” I replied. “She’s convinced that real witches live amongst us—and not the friendly tarot reading kind—and that by embracing the Halloween aspects of Salem we’re allowing the devil in to corrupt us.”

“Ugh.” Mom’s expression was hilarious. “I always knew that girl was a menace. Her parents are weirdos too. Do you know that they’re second cousins and yet they still got married? I bet Tammy has webbed feet or something.”

Well, that was an interesting tidbit I’d never heard before. “Are you being serious?”

“Oh, it’s totally true,” Mom confirmed. “I went to school with her mother Winnie. She was a total whiner. They actually started calling her Whiny at a certain point.”

“I thought you weren’t a fan of bullying,” Rosie challenged darkly. “Even if the person in question isn’t a good person. We’ve agreed that we’re joining the Salem Anti-Bullying 5K Run this year.”

Mom waved her off. Rosie might’ve liked to embrace the dark arts on occasion, but she was much more pure of heart and spirit than my mother. She was earnest to the point of beingLittle House on the Prairiepure sometimes. My mother, however, waffled between wanting to be as sweet as Rosie and thinking about punching certain people in the face just to shut them up.

I tended to be more like my mother.

“She was whiny,” Mom insisted. “Also, marrying your cousin is weird. I don’t care if it’s second cousins or eighth cousins. If you know there’s a blood tie, it’s time to put the penis back in the box and not procreate.”

“You know, now that you mention it, I’ve never seen Tammy in open-toed shoes,” Levi mused. He was clearly embracing the conversation with gusto. “Even in summer she wears closed-toe shoes.”

“That’s because she read an article about people having foot fetishes, toe sucking and such, and she doesn’t want to allow the devil to come in and have a lick,” I argued.

Mom’s eyebrows made a run for the Canadian border. “Are you being serious right now?”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “Sadly, I am. She’s like weirdly religious. Like…stereotypical religious.”

“I’m going to need more than that,” Mom pressed.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” I held out my hands.

“She once brought holy water in and tried to baptize us,” Levi offered.

“I thought she was just trying to drive the devil out of us,” I countered. “That’s how I remember it anyway.”

“I’m not sure either of those scenarios are acceptable,” Mom said dryly. “Seriously, though, that is some freaky stuff right there. Why did George allow her to do that sort of thing in the hotel?”

“I think he felt sorry for her,” I replied.

“Because she has webbed toes?” Mom asked knowingly.

“Because she very clearly has a wire loose in her head,” I replied. “She’s not all there. Last night a Day of the Dead cake set her off. We had to lock her in the cooler until she cooled off.”

“That doesn’t sound safe,” Rosie argued.

“We never leave her in there for more than a few minutes,” I assured her. “She always comes out more subdued than she was when she went in.”

“Maybe she thinks because Hell is hot the devil can’t get her in the cooler,” Rosie suggested.

“That’s a possibility.” I went back to stretching. “Either way, Tammy isn’t my biggest concern. She’s a minor inconvenience.”

“If Levi thinks your new boss is just in over his head, maybe you should offer help,” Rosie said. “I mean … nobody knows the inner workings of that hotel better than you.”

“Why would I want to help the guy who wants to eliminate my position?” I shot back.

Rosie was unruffled by my tone. “You need to show him that you’re invaluable to the operation, Daisy,” she argued. “He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know that you bring magic to every situation. You need to show him that.”

“Oh, geez.” I slapped my hand to my face without realizing it was a mistake. I toppled forward because I couldn’t balance correctly. Nobody jumped in to help me right myself. “I’m not magic,” I sputtered. “I’m just one person.”

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