took me almost an hour to complete my task, and when I finished, even I was impressed. I threw open the back door of the house and yelled inside.
“Get your scrawny butts out here right now!”
Winnie was the first through the door. I think she expected to find me in the middle of mayhem. In a way I was. It was the best mayhem ever, though.
“What did you do?” Winnie asked, her eyes wide as she stepped into the accumulating snow and lifted her head to the heavens. “It’s … beautiful.”
“I know.” Smugness only works on some people. Actually, it doesn’t work on most people. I’m the rare exception. “It’s pretty cool, huh?”
“You made it snow,” Winnie said, flabbergasted. “How did you do it?”
“I’m the most powerful witch in the Midwest,” I shot back. “I can’t believe you ever doubted me.”
“It’s not that I doubted you,” Winnie said. “It’s just … thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” I said, grudgingly accepting her hug. “You did doubt me, though.”
“Let’s not get into that,” Winnie said. She turned back toward the house. “Come out here, girls! You’re never going to guess what your Aunt Tillie did for you.”
Thistle was the first through the door, excitement positively rolling through her as she slid in the snow. She wore slippers and hadn’t bothered to put on a coat, but she was sneaky and evaded Twila’s hands as they tried to corral her.
“Snow! It’s snowing!”
I may be their curmudgeonly great-aunt, but even I couldn’t hide my smile at Thistle’s enthusiasm.
“Young lady, you need your coat, hat and gloves,” Twila warned. “You’ll get pneumonia and die. Is that what you want right before Christmas?”
Thistle responded by tossing a loosely packed snowball and hitting her mother in the face.
“Holy crap!” Clove appeared in the doorway, her brown eyes wide as saucers. “I can’t believe this. It’s … snowing!”
“Your Aunt Tillie did this,” Marnie said, choking up as she shot me a grateful smile. “This is your first Christmas present. Do you like it?”
“It’s the best thing ever,” Clove said sincerely. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” I said, my cheeks burning. “I … come out and play in it. That’s why I conjured it.”
“I have to get my coat and gloves first,” Clove replied. “I don’t want to get sick.”
Thistle hammered Clove with a snowball as Twila chased her around. “Thistle!”
“I’m going to make you eat snow,” Clove warned, darting back inside. I had no doubt she’d return looking like the ghost of snowmen past and present.
Bay was the last to appear in the doorway, and the marvel on her face was something I won’t soon forget. “It’s snowing.” The words were barely a whisper. “The people on the television said there was no chance it would snow. How did this happen?”
“Your Aunt Tillie did it,” Winnie said, staring intently at her daughter. “She wanted you to have the best Christmas ever. Do you like it?”
Bay turned her attention to me, and I swear she looked as if she would burst into tears. “I … .”
“Don’t you even think about crying, little missy,” I warned, wagging a finger in her face. “Christmas isn’t for crying. Santa isn’t going to bring you any presents if you cry. You know that, right?”
Bay collected herself. “I still don’t believe in Santa,” she said. “You can’t make me. I know the truth.”
“Well, I guess you’re not getting anything good this year then,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I said I didn’t believe in Santa,” Bay said. “I do believe in you, though.”
For some odd reason a lump formed in my throat. “I believe in you, too,” I said. “You’re going to get your Christmas, Bay. This is only the first step. I’m going to find Bernard, and Santa will be at the town party. Everything will be okay.”
“You can’t promise her you’re going to find Bernard,” Winnie
“Get your scrawny butts out here right now!”
Winnie was the first through the door. I think she expected to find me in the middle of mayhem. In a way I was. It was the best mayhem ever, though.
“What did you do?” Winnie asked, her eyes wide as she stepped into the accumulating snow and lifted her head to the heavens. “It’s … beautiful.”
“I know.” Smugness only works on some people. Actually, it doesn’t work on most people. I’m the rare exception. “It’s pretty cool, huh?”
“You made it snow,” Winnie said, flabbergasted. “How did you do it?”
“I’m the most powerful witch in the Midwest,” I shot back. “I can’t believe you ever doubted me.”
“It’s not that I doubted you,” Winnie said. “It’s just … thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” I said, grudgingly accepting her hug. “You did doubt me, though.”
“Let’s not get into that,” Winnie said. She turned back toward the house. “Come out here, girls! You’re never going to guess what your Aunt Tillie did for you.”
Thistle was the first through the door, excitement positively rolling through her as she slid in the snow. She wore slippers and hadn’t bothered to put on a coat, but she was sneaky and evaded Twila’s hands as they tried to corral her.
“Snow! It’s snowing!”
I may be their curmudgeonly great-aunt, but even I couldn’t hide my smile at Thistle’s enthusiasm.
“Young lady, you need your coat, hat and gloves,” Twila warned. “You’ll get pneumonia and die. Is that what you want right before Christmas?”
Thistle responded by tossing a loosely packed snowball and hitting her mother in the face.
“Holy crap!” Clove appeared in the doorway, her brown eyes wide as saucers. “I can’t believe this. It’s … snowing!”
“Your Aunt Tillie did this,” Marnie said, choking up as she shot me a grateful smile. “This is your first Christmas present. Do you like it?”
“It’s the best thing ever,” Clove said sincerely. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” I said, my cheeks burning. “I … come out and play in it. That’s why I conjured it.”
“I have to get my coat and gloves first,” Clove replied. “I don’t want to get sick.”
Thistle hammered Clove with a snowball as Twila chased her around. “Thistle!”
“I’m going to make you eat snow,” Clove warned, darting back inside. I had no doubt she’d return looking like the ghost of snowmen past and present.
Bay was the last to appear in the doorway, and the marvel on her face was something I won’t soon forget. “It’s snowing.” The words were barely a whisper. “The people on the television said there was no chance it would snow. How did this happen?”
“Your Aunt Tillie did it,” Winnie said, staring intently at her daughter. “She wanted you to have the best Christmas ever. Do you like it?”
Bay turned her attention to me, and I swear she looked as if she would burst into tears. “I … .”
“Don’t you even think about crying, little missy,” I warned, wagging a finger in her face. “Christmas isn’t for crying. Santa isn’t going to bring you any presents if you cry. You know that, right?”
Bay collected herself. “I still don’t believe in Santa,” she said. “You can’t make me. I know the truth.”
“Well, I guess you’re not getting anything good this year then,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I said I didn’t believe in Santa,” Bay said. “I do believe in you, though.”
For some odd reason a lump formed in my throat. “I believe in you, too,” I said. “You’re going to get your Christmas, Bay. This is only the first step. I’m going to find Bernard, and Santa will be at the town party. Everything will be okay.”
“You can’t promise her you’re going to find Bernard,” Winnie
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