Page 49 of Witch Please

“She told me she learned everything she knows from her grandmother, but I doubt an older person would know how to repair all the latest gadgets. I—”

“And I’m done with this conversation. If you’re curious, you should spend more time asking about her life and less time…” Maya made kissing faces and pressed her folded fingers together in an especially obnoxious impression of hand puppets making out.

Give me a break. I literally just had sex for the first time. Also, Ididask where she went to school, but she never answered me.

“Your advice is noted,” he said, giving Doris a final belly pat.

After changing out of his uniform, he played outside with the dog until it got dark. Maya had pasta primavera on the table when he came in and was lazily grating parmesan cheese while she watched something on her tablet. They’d talked about getting a small TV mounted in the kitchen, but he’d absorbed some of his mother’s old-fashioned ideas about electronics where they cooked. Plus, the heat wouldn’t be good for the circuits, and the TV might fritz. Then he’d have a reason to lure Danica to his house. Incredibly, a spark of arousal fluttered through him as he imagined her in his bed, riding him like she had in his office. Unbidden, other images rolled through his mind.

God, I’m dirty. No getting a kitchen TV if that’s why I’d be buying it.

Shaking his head, he forked up a bite of pasta. “Thanks. This is great.”

Having sexual fantasies while eating dinner with his sister wasnotsomething he’d ever imagined doing. Maybe it was because he’d gone without for so long, but until meeting Danica, he’d always shrugged over his lack of a sex life. He occasionally masturbated to take the edge off, but he’d always seen it as…exercise, almost. But now, he wanted to learn all the ways he could make her feel good.

“No problem. It was my turn to cook.” She studied him. “You’re awfully quiet. Shall I guess what’s on your mind?”

Before Maya could start teasing him, the house phone rang, usually a telemarketer at this hour. They had talked about disconnecting the landline, but Titus couldn’t bring himself to cancel it since the number had been in his mother’s name before she died. He had transferred the account, but this number had sentimental value to him, silly as that might sound.

“I’ll get it.” He headed over to answer the wall phone, not even a cordless unit either. This thing was an antique, butter yellow and still functional. “Hello?”

His dad’s voice came across cheerfully, and the rotini he’d eaten immediately clumped in his stomach. “Titus! So glad I got through. I think there’s something wrong with your cell phone. It keeps sending me straight to voicemail.”

Yeah, that’s not an accident. I don’t want to talk to you.

“What’s up? We’re in the middle of dinner.”

“Oh damn, right. I always forget that we’re not in the same time zone. Well, I’ll be quick. Check your email. I sent your itinerary. You and Maya have to come see us. Susan wants you both at the baby shower.”

What the hell?

“I hope those tickets are refundable,” he said, trying not to snap. “I can’t just close the bakery on a whim. We have set hours and—”

“This isn’t open for discussion. Put a sign on the door, and act like my son for a few days. It won’t kill you to show your mother some support.”

Fuck. He did not just say that. Breathe. Count to ten.

Titus’s tone was icy when he responded. “She’s your wife, not my mother. And we never agreed to this trip. I’ll talk to you later.” Titus cut the call and left the phone off the hook, trying to seem calm as he sat down at the table.

Maya was sitting with a blank expression, staring at her bowl. “He really expects us to drop everything just because Susan asked. Close the business, maybe lose customers. What the hell is wrong with him? He called her our…” She couldn’t even say it, and as if that was the last straw, she burst into tears. “I hate him. I hate him so much. And I hate it even more that he tries to make us feel like the bad ones, like we’re ungrateful and selfish for not supporting everything he does, no matter how shitty it makes us feel.”

Titus got up and hugged her, patting her back awkwardly. “I know, Mini. And I wish I knew what to do about it, but the conversations I’ve tried to have with him about this… They didn’t go well.”

“That’s because he just wants what he wants. He’s the selfish one! If he’d given us any time at all to adjust or paused to consider our feelings, the situation would be better. As it is, I constantly wonder if he was cheating online with Susan while Mom was dying.”

Shit. She said it.

The same suspicion had chased around Titus’s head more than once. People didn’t just move on from death and get remarried that fast, did they? Not unless the seed had already been germinating for a while.

“I haven’t asked,” he said softly. “Because I’m afraid of the answer.”

She made a scoffing noise. “Like he’d even tell us the truth. I’m sure he’d blame us for asking instead of owning up to it.”

“That sounds about right.” Gently he patted her shoulder and went back to his food, although neither his mood nor his appetite was the same.

Finally, after ten minutes of pretending, they got up to clear the table. Titus loaded the dishwasher while Maya put things away and wiped down the counter and table.

When they were done, she said, “I think…I’m going out for a bit. Sometimes this house…” She shook her head. “Do you mind if I take Doris for a run? If you’re in bed when I get back, I’ll keep her in my room.”

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