My sister opened her mouth to argue but then sighed. "Fine. We can talk. But I promise nothing."
Jack threw his hands up. "Why would I expect you to be any more reasonable than the rest of the women in your family?"
When he divided a stern look between me and Aunt Ruby, Shelley giggled.
"Okay, okay. But since Aunt Ruby doesn’t feel great, can I go with you, Uncle Jack? Pleeeeease?"
He raised an eyebrow at me, and I nodded. I did plan to talk to Shelley about school, but it didn’t have to happen today. And I’d be just as happy for her not to be around for more of Aunt Ruby’s embarrassing magic-induced revelations.
"You take Shelley; I’ll take Aunt Ruby. See you at home later?"
"Done." He leaned over and kissed me, and Shelley’s peal of giggles surrounded us.
I took Aunt Ruby’s arm and nudged her toward my car, while Jack and Shelley headed for his truck, with my sister talking at him about a hundred miles per hour.
"Okay, Aunt Ruby. We’re going to get you something to eat. Then you can have a rest, and we?—"
"Don’t talk to me like I’m a child," she said irritably, yanking her arm away. "I’m perfectly able to walk by myself, thank you."
"I’m sorry. I was just trying to help."
She stopped and patted my arm. "I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry for being cranky. Remember the time you decided to help by cutting your own bangs for your school picture when you were Shelley’s age?"
I groaned. I’d hidden the lopsided results from Aunt Ruby and Uncle Mike and raced out the door for the bus with my hacked-off hair hiding beneath a ball cap. Luckily, my teacher, no stranger to the hair-cutting antics of elementary school kids, had pulled a hairband from her own purse and fixed me up for the photos. I’d looked like a red-haired Alice in Wonderland, but it had been a lot better than it could have been, as several candid shots in our family photo albums could attest.
"You’re a wonderful aunt," I suddenly said, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Thank you for everything you did for me when I was growing up."
"Why, Tess!" She stopped walking and turned to face me. "What a lovely thing to say. It was our pleasure. But now I feel like I might be in trouble."
"What do you mean?"
"I think I’m going to be sick."
And she was. Right there in the bushes next to the road.
Spectacularly.
"Aftereffects of the magic, probably. At least you did it before getting in my car," I told her, patting her back.
"Might not be the end," she told me, misery in her eyes. "I feel woozy and hungover. Like I had whiskey, which I haven’t had in decades."
"Do you feel like the truth-telling effects are wearing off?" I reached into the back seat for an empty plastic bag that had been riding around there for a while and handed it to her. "Just in case you get sick in the car."
"I—the truth-telling effects?"
I helped her into the passenger seat, climbed into the driver's seat, and explained about the brooch, wincing as her big blue eyes got wider and wider and tears welled in them.
"Oh, Tess! Why didn’t you warn me?"
"I tried! You wouldn’t listen, and then you didn’t answer your phone or my texts. I called Susan, but she was out, and then I called Jack and raced over here myself. There wasn’t much else I could do. I’m so sorry."
She patted my hand. "No. I’m sorry. Of course, it wasn’t your fault. But maybe think about putting a pause on all these magical items you buy for the shop, Tess. It feels like they cause a lot of trouble."
"I was thinking the exact same thing myself," I muttered, putting the car into gear. But before I drove off, I shoved the cloth-wrapped instrument of destruction beneath my seat.
She was sound asleep five minutes later, and so pale I started to worry. I told my phone to call Uncle Mike and quickly filled him in on today’s crisis.
He listened to it all without commenting, and then he sighed. "Welcome home, Tess. Guess you’re ready to turn around and go back to Atlantis."
