Page 7 of Haunt Improvement
“It’s about motherhumping time,” Zelda snapped, giving my cousin’s biker attire an appraising once-over.The Shifter Wanker’s tastes leaned more toward modern designer duds, like the Max Midnights jeans and Jimmy Choo heels she wore today.
“What’s she doing here?”Glinda demanded.
“Well, good morning to you, too.”Zelda snorted.
“No offense,” Glinda backpeddled.She yanked off her sunglasses and gave Zelda a phony smile.“I just have some private things to discuss with Margo.”
“How private?”I asked.“Like back hair?A third nipple?”
“What?”Glinda balked, her bloodshot eyes blinking stiffly.“No!Why would—” Understanding dawned on her suddenly, and she huffed.“For Wizard’s sake, Margo.I’m fine.That was a long time ago.Harmless sibling shenanigans when we were children,” she added, waving her hand dismissively.
Her cartoony villain mustache hadn’t seemed so harmless on picture day.Neither had the oozy acne in my own pictures.Thank the Wizard for photo editing software.
“Welp,” Zelda said, grabbing her Prada bag as she stood, “I guess you don’t need my help after all.Later, witches.”She stalked out of the dining room without a backward glance.
“Thanks anyway!”I called after her, wincing with embarrassment.She threw a halfhearted wave over her shoulder.
Wasting the Shifter Wanker’s time was becoming a bad habit of mine, but I wouldn’t be rude or ungrateful—like my cousin.
“She was here to help you,” I hissed under my breath at Glinda.
“Ididn’t ask for her help.”Glinda tossed her broom in the nearest corner and plopped onto Zelda’s abandoned chair.She snatched up the half-drunk mimosa and nearly took a sip before noticing Zelda’s bright lipstick on the rim.“Ugh.The service around here.”
I refrained from reminding her that she was a bartender at the Country Club too, and instead asked, “How was your night?”
“Fine, fine.”Her voice rose an octave, taking my hackles along with it.When she realized her answer wasn’t going to cut it, she added, “It was a college town, so lots of schmucky dude-bro munchkins who totally deserved the ass-zappings I passed out as freely as trick-or-treat candy.Of course, there were no treats.Just tricks.”She smirked wickedly.
“So...Emmy behaved?”I asked more directly.
“Uh, yeah.”Glinda scoffed.“I told you, we’re not children anymore.She saved her hexes for the villagers.You should have seen the unibrow she put on this neanderthal we ran into at a frat party.You would have thought he was shifting into a werewolf, the way he was carrying on.”
“What’s wrong with werewolves?”I asked, indignant on behalf of Zelda’s husband Mac.
“Nothing.If you don’t mind fleas.”Glinda snickered.
Holy poppy fields, was I glad no one was close enough to overhear her.
“Not all werewolves have fleas,” I whispered through clenched teeth.
Before Glinda could pop off with another insult, Daisy appeared with a fresh mimosa and a pair of menus.Asher’s mom was usually a hostess, but she’d been picking up some waitressing shifts for the tips.Not that I didn’t love having Asher at the house, but I felt guilty for all the time his mother was missing with him.
Mama Hermosa was right.We had room to spare, and if Daisy and Ash moved in with us, she’d be able to drop some shifts instead of picking up more.Once we finished remodeling the nursery, I was betting Asher would help us convince his mother, too.If that didn’t do the trick, maybe we could knock down a wall on the second floor and merge a couple of the bedrooms into a proper suite with a kitchenette.
After the wittle witch arrived, I planned to have a more serious talk about it with Daisy.I was even willing to forgo my commission if I sold her house, as soon as my testy broom was willing to tote me to and from showings and open houses again.
“G’day, Linda!”Daisy greeted my broody cousin.“We missed you at the party last night.”
“It’sGuh-linda.”Glinda snatched the fresh mimosa from her and downed it.“Keep’em coming, Blondie.”
“Got it.”Daisy grabbed a pitcher of water from a nearby cart and topped off my glass before disappearing to fetch Glinda another drink.
“I don’t remember you being this rude before you left,” I said, sucking in a strained breath to calm my rising ire.The dress was back to squeezing my mangoes, an uncomfortable reminder that I needed to get my mood under control.
“Sorry,” Glinda grumbled then paused to yawn.“I haven’t been to bed yet.”
“You stayed outallnight?”
“What’s it to you, Gran?”Her face twisted with malice, but she reined it in quickly.“Sorry,” she repeated.“Ireallyneed some sleep.I would have called to reschedule, but I didn’t want you to worry, and I thought I should at least give you a head’s up...”
