Page 53 of Witches of Honeysuckle House
Violet shook her head. “A little something extra.”
Once the wax had melted, she handed Tillie a set of the tapers. She held Tillie’s hand and dipped them once more into the wax. This time, she only lowered them part of the way, so the bottom half of the candle was pink, and the top black. Tillie followed her lead. Violet dropped one of the tapers into a glass of water to set the wax.
Now finished, the two women took the candles and made their way back inside. Violet positioned one of them on the small table in the bedroom sitting area. She struck a match, and the wick caught flame as the sun started to rise.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Regina, 1960
Over the next few days, Regina feigned happiness for Violet and Tillie while she tried, three separate times, to use her magic to come between them. The first attempt had been the morning after she discovered them in a state of undress, when she’d found them drinking coffee in the kitchen. Judging by the bags under their eyes, they hadn’t slept any better than Regina had.
“I thought I might make dinner for all of us tonight,” Regina said as she poured herself a cup. “We didn’t get to celebrate Tillie moving in properly.”
Violet’s eyes narrowed. Regina avoided meeting them by pouring milk into her coffee, adding a spoonful of sugar, and stirring three times clockwise.
“You don’t make dinner,” Violet said.
Her sister wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t that Regina didn’t know how to cook. She’d learned from her mother when she was a girl, but after their parents’ deaths, Violet had taken on all the responsibility herself.
“It’s a special occasion,” Regina said. “I was thinking beef stroganoff.”
“That sounds delicious,” Tillie said.
“It’s Violet’s favorite.” Though she didn’t mean for it to, Regina’s voice had a bit of a malice in it.
“You never told me that,” Tillie said.
“I don’t have it often,” Violet said. “It makes me think of my mother.”
“Now you can reclaim it,” Regina said with a forced lightness. “And think of Tillie instead.”
Violet made a thoughtful noise as Regina watched her over the rim of her coffee cup.
After Tillie and Violet left, Regina got to work. She started with the same spell she’d used to keep her sister from loving a man. It had worked perfectly well for years. Regina simply hadn’t been broad enough with the types of people her sister might come to love, so she expanded her wording. As soon as she finished, she took the candles into the house, set one up in her favorite spot in the attic, and prepared to light it.
But the moment she tried, the window opened, and a breeze blew out her match.
“Not this again,” she said.
Her lamp flared brighter, as if to say, “Yes, this again.”
“I can’t have Tillie stealing my sister away from me,” Regina said. “Whether you like her or not.”
She walked over to the window and slammed it shut. Then, she struck another match. The window opened a crack.
“Don’t you understand?” Regina asked. “If it weren’t for Tillie’s family, we’d never have lost Mother and Father. They took us on that stupid trip so they could convince Father to sell his shop. If we hadn’t been out with them, then he wouldn’t have been driving so fast. He wouldn’t have lost control, and he wouldn’t have hit the tree.”
The lights flared brighter, curious.
“Lucky for the Greys I suppose. If they hadn’t died, Violet never would’ve sold the store,” she paused, a new thought taking form. “Maybe a littletoolucky.”
She’d said something similar to Violet the day Tillie moved in. But the more she thought about it, the more she wondered. Her father hadn’t been the most careful driver, but he’d never been reckless. Asriled up as he’d been, he wouldn’t have rounded the corner so fast if he thought he wouldn’t be able to stop.
“For all we know, Tillie’s father did something to the car, and now you’re playing music so Violet can dance with his daughter.”
The light dimmed, and the window closed.
“That’s better.”
