Trouble's Brewing (Stirring Up Trouble) Page 7

  “Mom! Seriously? Are you drooling over Dr. Finnegan?” My gag reflex was on red alert.

  Mom reached out to grab my arm. “Oh, no! Zoe, no! I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. It was just an admiration of true beauty. That’s all. Like when a room comes together perfectly. Or like you in your dress from Homecoming. Perfection. I’m speaking with an artist’s eye, not with a creepy perv eye. I promise.”

  Mom’s horror almost had me convinced. Even I had noticed that Finn had a nice form in a totally objective kind of way.

  “The problem was that while the clothes fit fine, Finn’s personality doesn’t work with many of the styles we tried. The boy, er, man is so tense and uptight. The dressier and fussier the clothes were, the more he liked them. He’s lucky you intervened and got my help.”

  “Good. I’m glad you helped.”

  Mom’s expression turned serious. “Zoe, I feel sorry for Finn. He doesn’t know anybody here except us. He must be lonely.”

  “I doubt it. He probably spends all his time working on potions, Mom. He’s devoted his life to potions. Why would he be unhappy now?”

  “He’s used to a large estate, and now he’s in a tiny apartment. He must have had interaction with friends and colleagues at his home. Except during the time his skin was rotting from his punishment.”

  I held up my hand. “I don’t think he would want us to dwell on that.”

  “I know you, Zoe. I know you really don’t want me to talk about the putrid smell and make you nauseated.”

  My stomach reacted long before she got to the word nauseated. “Please, Mom.”

  “I think he’s lonely,” she said.

  “Maybe he is.”

  “I’d try to introduce him to people, but who? We don’t have a lot of witches in town, and I don’t want them to interfere with your studies or make him the victim of their gossip. I’d try to find some normal people with whom he has common interests, but I haven’t managed a single idea. Someone his age? He’s in his nineties and looks nineteen. I thought about trying to find a nice female genius for him to spend time with, but what age? Ninety-five? Surely not. College-age? Doubtful. Should I divide the ninety-five plus twenty and go with fifty-seven? The looks they would get! I think perhaps a forty to forty-five would be the best fit, but again, the cougar stigma. He doesn’t need to draw attention.”

  “Mom, you’re forty-five.”

  “Exactly. I think my age is a combination of health and energy as well as enough wisdom and maturity to make it work.”

  “Mom! You don’t mean you, do you?”

  “Of course not! That’s not what I meant at all.”

  I should have pushed harder for Dave, her hottie producer. I’d caught them kissing in Jake’s kitchen a few weeks ago. I hadn’t liked the idea at all, but at least he wasn’t my tutor. Plus he was thirty and looked thirty. Mom didn’t have feelings for Dave. I hoped she didn’t have feelings for Finn. A forty-five-year-old woman and a nineteen-year-old guy? They’d probably get more than dirty looks. They’d probably get rotten tomatoes and hate mail.

  “Zoe, trust me. I wouldn’t go there. He’s your tutor! He looks as young as you. And since I know he’s actually an elderly man, I have to admit the whole idea gives me the heebie jeebies.”

  Thank God.

  “Are you going to shower soon?” she asked. “No offense, but you kind of smell like eggs and cat.”

  Cat! “Jazzy! I forgot about her. Did you see her when you came in?”

  “No,” Mom said. “I’ll go call her. She may not be on speaking terms with you right now.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Not kidding,” Mom said over her shoulder as she walked toward the kitchen and the back door.

  Chapter Six

  “Guess what,” Milo said on the phone later. My only close magic friend, Milo was my sounding board. He didn’t live here, and I was lucky to see him a few times a year. I had been thrilled when he visited at Halloween, and his family had been invaluable in dealing with the events that night.

  “What?”

  “We’re coming for Thanksgiving!”

  “No way! For sure?” I shut down my laptop and left my desk to sit on my comfy bed.

  “It’s a done deal. My parents confirmed this afternoon. They got somebody to cover the shelter and the food pantry.”

  “We are going to have so much fun! When are you coming up?”

  “Not til Wednesday.”

  “And how long are you staying?”

  “Until Sunday morning.”

  “This is going to be so great!”

  “I know. We’re lucky my parents want to meet Dr. Finnegan as much as I do.”

  “We are going to have the best Thanksgiving ever!”

  “Uh, Zoe, your friend Anya isn’t going to be around this time is she? I don’t know how long I can hold her at bay. Four days of dodging her might be more than I can take.”

  He probably should wear his running shoes because I couldn’t control Anya. She’d practically stalked him at Halloween. “Well, you do have some competition this time. She’s got a crush on this senior, and I told you about her stalking Dr. Finnegan.”

  “Yeah, that’s just weird.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I said. There was no way to convey the gorgeous specimen that was Finn. Milo was going to have to see for himself.

  “What about Jake? Is he adjusting to your tutor?”

  “Yeah.” I had shared Jake’s jealousy with Milo.

  “How long have you been dating him anyway? A month?”

  “Longer.” A few days longer, but whatever. “Anyway how’s Darlene?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “What’s she doing for Thanksgiving?”

  “She’s going to her grandmother’s in Boca Raton.”

  “Too bad you couldn’t bring her as an anti-Anya shield.”

  “Wouldn’t work anyway. She’d interfere with our time with Dr. Finnegan.”

  “True. And our Milo and Zoe time. You can help me with my unicorn horn substitution!”

  “Your what?”

  “I’m going to find a substitution for unicorn horn.”

  Milo didn’t speak for a moment. When he did, he scolded, “Zoe, you just found the toad slime substitution, and you have Dr. Finnegan, the Dr. Finnegan, as a tutor.”

  “Right. So?”

  “Do you know how lucky you are? Maybe you should chill with the research for a while and enjoy life.”

  “Experimentation is how I enjoy life, Milo.”

  “Yeah, but it shouldn’t be the only way you have fun.”

  What was he trying to say? Why shouldn’t I be pursuing another substitution? “I have fun,” I protested. “Why do you think I don’t have fun?”

  “It sounds a little strange for you to start another project right when you have your first boyfriend ever and the undivided attention of the most famous and accomplished potions master of all time.”

  When he put it that way… it did sound weird. “I have plenty of time for all three, plus Dr. Finnegan wants to learn more about my approach.”

  “If you say so, Zoe. I barely have time for school, volunteering at the food bank, and Darlene. It’s almost Thanksgiving, then I have two papers due, and before I get caught up on everything, I’ll have exams.”

  He wasn’t wrong. November and December were tough months. Unlike Milo, I had divorced parents, and spending time with one parent at a time took a lot longer than Milo’s “family time” did. “I can handle it,” I told him. Two Thanksgivings, two Christmases. It hit me suddenly that dating my father’s girlfriend’s son actually saved me some time. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing ever. No, it wasn’t good. I’d long ago started worrying about the situation getting worse. If Dad broke up with Sheree, it would get awkward with me and Jake. If Jake and I broke up, I’d be stuck doing so-called family stuff with my ex-boyfriend. I should’ve brewed a potion to make Sheree and Dad break up. To heck with the consequence
s. Life had gotten way too complicated, and the stakes kept rising.

  “Zoe?”

  Oh, right. Milo. “Huh?”

  “Are you still there?”

  “Sorry. I spaced out for a second.”

  “No problem.”

  If Jake and I broke up, I was totally going to erase everybody’s memory because there was no way I was living life in Awkwardland.

  Focus on Milo. You’re on the phone with Milo. “It’s going to be great to see you guys on Thanksgiving. And you are going to love Dr. Finnegan.”

  “I didn’t mean to stress you out.”

  “Oh no. You didn’t. Really.”

  “Bye, Zoe.”

  “Bye.”

  It was a good thing that I was going to see Jake tomorrow because I was starting to worry. Milo thought I was taking on too much, but this was exactly why I always had something scientific to work on, to puzzle over. I was much better off if I didn’t focus on real life too much. I’d end up obsessing over my relationship with Jake.

  I was much happier if I spent my energy on unicorn horn possibilities. Now what could I use to get the chalk to work…

  “Do you want to practice driving some before I take you over to Jake’s?” Mom asked on Sunday morning as she shoveled two giant pancakes onto my plate. “You haven’t gotten any practice since your birthday.”

  “Naw. That’s okay. I have almost a year left. I want to get there and get my homework finished. I’m supposed to help Jake with his biology, and then we’ll get to hang out.”

  “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the two of you being alone in the house all day.”

  “Mom! You already agreed. We’re studying, taking Indiana for a walk, normal stuff. And it’s only for five or six hours.”

  Mom sighed. “I know. You’re right. I already agreed.”

  Dad and Sheree were spending the day in Asheville. They wouldn’t be home until evening. “You trust me, right?”

  “I trust you,” she said, and hugged me.

  “Are you going to be lonely?”

  “No. I have plenty of work to do.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Jake opened the door as Mom and I pulled to the curb in front of his house. Indiana came bounding out and ran straight for me. Since I hadn’t opened the car door, he jumped up, placed his paws on the door, and stuck his face against the window.

  Mom flinched so dramatically that it was almost audible. She hated scratches or even paw prints on her car.

  “Don’t open it,” she said. “You’ll make it worse.”

  Suddenly, Indiana flew back a few feet, and I saw that Jake had him by the collar.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said, and pushed the door open.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Miller,” Jake called out.

  “It’s—”

  I slammed the door before we could hear the response. I wasn’t sure my mother could say it convincingly.

  “Hi, Indy,” I said, shifting my books to one arm, and bending to scratch him behind the ears.

  “Aren’t you going to say hi to me?” Jake asked.

  “Not until we get inside,” I said. I turned and waved to my mother and she pulled away.

  Jake leaned in as if to kiss me, and I stopped him. “She can still see us. She’s already halfway to freaking out over us being alone.”

  “We’ve been alone before.”

  “Yeah, but she’s ignoring that.”

  “We aren’t alone as much as I’d like us to be.”

  “Don’t get greedy,” I said, shoving at his arm. “Let’s go inside.”

  I opened the door, waited for Indiana to rush ahead of us, and stepped inside.

  Jake moved inside, shut the door, and took my books. He set them on the foyer table, and then he pulled me close and kissed me.

  The boy could kiss.

  We could spend the next five hours doing this, I realized as a giddy joy spread through me.

  No one home to interrupt us. No one to catch us and give us condemning looks. No one to draw us out of the moment.

  Indiana barked.

  We ignored him. Jake held me even more tightly and my heart raced in response to the intimate dance of our tongues. His hair was damp from the shower, and he smelled fresh and clean with a hint of spice.

  Jake groaned.

  Indiana barked.

  Then he barked louder.

  Jake pulled away, turned toward the dog, and yelled, “Sit.”

  Indiana was already sitting. At least, I thought he was. My head had gotten a bit fuzzy from the kisses.

  Indiana whined, but I didn’t care because Jake’s lips were back on mine.

  Oh, yeah. Five hours of alone time with Jake.

  Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark bark bark. Bark bark bark.

  At Indiana’s insistence, we stopped.

  Bark bark bark.

  “Seriously?!” Jake yelled at the dog.

  “Is he going to do that every time?”

  “No.” Jake stared down Indiana. “Because he’ll be going outside if he does.”

  “I’m so glad you got that fence.”

  Jake grinned. “Me too.”

  They’d gotten it because Indiana had been hit by a car. Luckily, his injuries healed almost “magically.”

  “We should get our homework done,” I said as reason slowly returned to my hazy mind. “Then we won’t have to rush.”

  “True,” Jake said. He picked up my stack of books. “Where should we study?”

  “Ummm,” I said looking around.

  “The kitchen table or the coffee table in the den.”

  “Sitting on hard chairs or cuddling on the sofa while studying. Hmmm,” I said. “Let me think.”

  Jake slung his arm around my shoulders and steered me to the den. “Good choice.”

  He placed my books on the table. “I’ll grab mine and be right back.”

  I sat down and Indiana jumped up beside me. “Hi, baby,” I said, petting him. “That’s a good boy.”

  Jake appeared, backpack over his shoulder, and he walked around the large, square coffee table to sit next to me. “That’s my spot, Indie,” he said. “Off.”

  Indiana jumped down, walked around the couch, and jumped up to sit on the other side of me.

  “She’s mine, Indy,” Jake said.

  Indiana pawed at my leg. “There’s enough of me to go around.”

  “Save the kisses for me.”

  “We’ll see,” I said reaching for my biology book. “Let’s get this done.”

  Jake didn’t need much help. He was a good student too. He just thought he wasn’t good at science.

  We finished in forty-five minutes.

  “Now for some cuddle time,” Jake said as he tucked his notebook paper into the book and set it on the table.

  “Almost,” I said. “I have some math left, and I know you do too.”

  “I do not.”

  I leaned in and looked him straight in the eye. “You’re lying.”

  He gave me a peck on the lips. “Fine. I am lying.”

  “Do your homework, mister.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  There was no way I could concentrate on my math. Jake and I sat side by side, each of us with a book in our lap, a pencil, and some paper. He pressed his leg against mine and sent heat through my jeans.

  Then he started taking a lot longer on each problem, studying it before he started working it out. And while he was “thinking,” he would take my hand in his and rub little circles against my palm with his thumb. I don’t know if he was doing any homework at this point, but I sure wasn’t. I was going to have to fix all these problems when I got home.

  “You’re not fooling anybody,” I whispered.

  “Just doing my homework,” he said without looking up from his book.

  “Whatever,” I said. I was going through the motions now. Writing random x’s and y’s and not even trying to understand much less solve the problem.


  “If you want to stop, we can finish this later.”

  “No,” I said, keeping my eyes pasted on page 236. “Not until I finish.”

  “I thought you might be distracted.”

  “No,” I said, determined not to cave before he did.

  I wanted to hum or whistle or something to show him how unaffected I was, but I knew I couldn’t pull it off.

  “Zoe, you’re killing me here!” Jake tossed his book onto the coffee table and then sent my book flying after it.

  “Jake,” I squeaked as he grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap. “What are you doing?”

  “Kissing my girlfriend,” he said.

  “Oh,” I said. “I guess your girlfriend is good with that.”

  “She’s good all right.”

  And then there wasn’t any talking for a long, long time.

  Dad drove me home when they got back from Asheville. I yelled, “Mom! I’m back.”

  “In the kitchen,” she called. “Come and join us.”

  Us? I couldn’t fathom who “us” would be. Mom never had people over. Maybe she’d made a new friend. Surely if it was a guy, I would have heard about it.

  When I got to the kitchen, I fully expected to see some nice woman in her forties who would possibly become Mom’s new BFF, best friend forever.

  My mother stood at the stove, stirring something in a saucepan. She had her hair up, not in the ratty pony tail she preferred for cooking, but in a flattering twist. She wasn’t exactly overdressed for a Sunday dinner at home, but she had changed out of the sweats and T-shirt from this morning.

  “Hey, hon,” she said as she stirred. “Finn and I were just preparing a mushroom alfredo—”

  Finn?

  Standing at the kitchen island, the nineteen-year-old, drop-dead gorgeous Finn held a garlic press over a glass bowl. “Hello, Zoe.”