Chapter 5

Violet looked out the van window at the passing snow covered trees.

Four days.

It was like she was a time traveler. In the blink of an eye, she had been sent four days into the future. Four days of her life, gone. It could have been worse, but her mind was having a hard enough time wrapping itself around this as it was. Four days of her family thinking she was going to die ... how would her brothers and sisters react to her? How would SHE react? What the hell had happened?

The Red Witch had saved her.

Violet's expression darkened. Everything came back to that. Every line of thought, every dream, day or night, ended in thoughts of the mysterious redhead. Why? Why did Violet keep thinking of that white skinned, beautiful, green eyed...

Feeling the van slow and turn, she realized they were home. Mommy Anita steered the van up the nicely shoveled driveway as Violet, out of habit, counted cars. Given the size of the family, and all their various obligations, you never knew who exactly would be around at any given time. Freddy had made a spreadsheet once, tracking everyone, but then got bored and let it get out of date. Or maybe he just thought it took all the surprise out of life.

Her car was there, naturally. A beat up blue Ford hatchback. Dad had gotten it for her at the start of Senior year, although technically it wasn't signed over to her until she turned 17. It wasn't great, but it got the job done. Usually. The other three family cars were there as well; Mommy Taylor worked from home and Mei and Dad had carpooled, so four had been enough...

Now she kept thinking about Dad. She couldn't win.

It wasn't until they were up to the house that Violet noticed an extra car. Red, four doors, sporty...

"Grandma and Grandpa!!"

Anita smiled, putting the car in park and turning the key off.

"Yup. Showed up last night." There was an edge to her voice, but Violet ignored it. Unbuckling, she was out the door and running up the sidewalk before her mom had even taken the key out of the ignition. The front door opened ... and Grandma Nash was on the porch, with Grandpa close behind.

"Grandma!"

With two bounding steps, Violet threw herself into the arms of the tall curly blonde woman, laughing. Ruth held her tight, crying.

"We thought we were going to lose you, Violet! Don't scare us like that!"

Her husband stood a few feet away, smile ... almost real. He was glad the dark skinned girl was OK, naturally. You never wanted to see someone ill, or in pain. But, this wasn't his granddaughter. That would be Menolly. He had three relatives here in addition to his daughter Rachel, not thirteen. His wife may have gotten him to accept the reality of how his daughter was living, but that didn't mean he had to like it, or spread his affection around evenly. His eyes went to Anita, coming up to the steps holding a shopping bag with Violet's things.

"We'd better get inside," he told her, "I'm sure you Mexicans aren't good in the cold."

Anita raised an eyebrow at him. Was this just gentle teasing, or...

"Mayan, Grandpa," Violet told him smiling, stepping back from Grandma. "We're tough." He nodded.

"Well, I'm not." He opened the storm door. "Ladies and Grandma first."

Shizuku was the only sibling home, the rest back in school suffering, but her greeting more than made up for their absence. She ran towards Violet, screaming, Rachel, Taylor and Mei trailing wearing large grins. Violet was still a bit weak, but had no trouble lifting her little sister up for a big hug.

"I missed you, Kiddo!" She held her tight, eyes closed.

"Missed you too! Daddy with you?!?"

There were gasps from the Moms, but Shizuku pulled her face back and looked at her oldest sister with all the seriousness in the world. After all, if Violet was back, why wasn't Daddy?

"N-no, Kiddo. It's just me."

"Oh..." She pouted ... then looked hopefully into her sister's eyes. "Play Legos?"

"Sure," chuckled Violet, giving her a quick kiss on the nose. "Go get them."

"Yeah! Legos!"

Violet put her down, watching as the toddler ran towards the playroom. If only her emotions could switch that easily...

Freddy closed his locker, giving the lock a good spin. This week was so fucked. A major test tomorrow in AP History, THEN the memorial service for Dad? How the hell was he going to keep his mind on the 1850's with that coming up just a few hours later? He so wanted to skip. If there wasn't the test, he could probably have talked at least one Mom into keeping everyone home. But, between his test and Jaxom's English exam, it would just lead to more headaches next week.

Ah, well. At least Sis was home by now.

"Oh little brother..."

He sighed, closing his eyes. Great. Wonderful. What did Miss Pink and Perky want now?

"What is it, Cindy?" Freddy turned ... and saw Karen standing next to his wonderful sister. Karen, dressed in a VERY tight blouse with a couple extra buttons undone. He could swear he saw her hard nipples even with the bra ... talk about pink and perky! "Oh! Hi Karen!"

"Hi." She blushed, which made Freddy much more confident. What Cindy had said was true! So long as he didn't blow it ... well, maybe he could get her to!

Cindy looked between the two, grinning. You could feel the sexual tension between them, built up over the past few years. Dating friends of siblings was unofficially frowned upon by the family, but such things were more of a guideline ... and a bit one sided, as neither Cindy nor Violet thought any of Freddy's friends were cute. This should make up for any previous blocked romances.

"Well, I'll leave you two lovers to figure things out. Don't miss the bus, Freddy!" She walked away, swinging her hips while humming, listening to their fading voices.

"Um, so, Karen, wanna do something Saturday?"

"My parents will be gone most of the day..."

Violet felt weird.

She had taken a nap not long after returning home, suddenly tired. Shizuku sometimes had that effect on you, the active tyke seeming to be part energy sucking ghoul. She had been up, though, by the time the first buses started dropping her brothers and sisters off, and ever since then...

Violet was sure it wasn't something they'd talked about. Her family wasn't that type. Each had probably, on their own, consciously or unconsciously decided to stay around Violet. No matter where she went, someone was with her, hugging her, touching her. No sooner would she sit than one of the little ones would be in her lap. Almost as if everyone was afraid they'd lose her again, if they didn't keep some form of hold on her. It was nice, kinda, at first, but while not a loner Violet did need her personal space. How could she grieve, with a five year old climbing all over her?

That evening was different than the previous night's entertainment (Cindy had been eager to regal her sister with the tale of the interrupted Mom party. No wonder Grandpa had been looking at her Moms like that!). With the funeral tomorrow, they sat around the living room and told stories. Stories about Dad. Funny stories, like how he had mistaken salt for sugar on that one camping trip and made some rather interesting Kool Aid. Well known stories, like how each woman came to meet him and join the family. Grandma told of their first meeting with Rachel's new "boyfriend", and "girlfriends". Everyone laughed ... except Grandpa. Violet had the fleeting thought that this might be the last time she saw him; that in the future he'd try and find excuses to have Rachel and the kids come to them. Her eyes, already wet, became even mistier. She loved him, had for as long as she could remember, but saw, now, what she couldn't as a child. His wandering eyes met hers ... and quickly looked away.

Violet wrapped her arms around the half asleep Shizuku and puller her into her chest. Was she losing Grandpa as well as Dad?

Violet lay in bed, alone in her bedroom. Elly had asked if she could sleep with Violet, but with a hug and a tickle Violet had sent her back to the room she shared with Menolly and Nadia. She wanted to be alone.

No. Not true.

She wanted...

Her Witch.

Mommy Taylor had said her name was ... Cindy? That seemed ... wrong. The girl wasn't a Cindy. What she was, was...

Under the heavy quilt, Violet ran one of her hands over her smooth, bare skin up to her breast.

The Witch was beautiful. The Witch was sexy. The Witch ... Eyes closed, she squeezed her breast, slowly moving her other hand down, past her thatch of fur. The Witch was ... she had beautiful lips. Violet wanted to kiss her ... caress that smooth face, look into those eyes...

Her fingers slipped between her legs, lightly caressing the outside of her lips. Imagining the feel of the Witch's skin, she pinched her nipple as a finger slipped inside her.

"Ah!"

Gods ... she wanted to slip that black dress off of her, wanted to run her lips all over that white skin. She wanted...

Wanted to taste her.

Her eyes opened.

She wasn't gay. Had no interest in that direction whatsoever. What the fuck was going on with her? One second's look at some stranger, and...

Hesitantly, Violet brought the hand from between her legs up her body, and out from under the covers where she could see it. In the moonlight, she could see the wetness on her brown fingers.

"I want to taste you..." She brought the fingers to her mouth, hesitated ... then closed her eyes and licked them.

"I wish this was you, my Witch..."

The memorial service was, mercifully, short. The public viewing at the funeral home went on for a few hours, but only the wives stayed for all of it. Dressed in black, they sat along the wall, greeting the small stream of friends and family, fellow teachers ... Violet even saw a few college kids, obviously students. Did she know any of her teachers enough to go to their funeral if they died? No ... her father had obviously touched many people, in his years of teaching. She knew he had started at some Middle School, but remembered the day he got the job at the downtown college. She had only been six, but he had been so happy! Had picked her up, swung her around...

And now he was before her, eyes closed. One final viewing.

It was her first time seeing death. It almost didn't look like him. For a brief moment, hope flared in Violet that this WASN'T Dad, that there had been a mistake! No ... no, Dad wouldn't like that. Dad would want her to accept this. Accept it as a part of life, a balance for all the joy he'd given her.

She recalled one of his stories. Dad's Grandpa, her Great Grandpa Hunt, had died suddenly when he was in 4th grade. He had told the tale as part of his story to her, as she started her own spiritual quest, of why he wasn't religious. Dad's 4th grade Sunday School teacher had been somewhat evangelical, especially for a moderate Presbyterian church, and she had gotten him to pray for the Holy Spirit late one night in bed. Ten year old Fred had felt one with God, a feeling he'd have for the next six or so years, and had asked God to help Grandpa get better.

A few hours later, his father had woken him to say Grandpa was dead and they had to go to Grandma. Thus the seed of doubt was first planted.

It was his first funeral, as this one was for her. A large Polish Catholic ceremony, body displayed by the altar. His dad had tried to get Dad to kiss the body, and Dad had shrunk back, mind not really able to deal.

"When it came time to bury your Grandma and Grandpa," he had told Violet, "I was a different person. There was still some personal taboo about touching, but ... well, how we approach death is rarely rational, and probably shouldn't be. I was a confirmed Atheist by then, but left a stuffed animal in Mom's coffin because it made me feel better. Grave goods, no different than those found in any Mayan or Egyptian tomb. We do it not for the afterlife, but for this life. Never laugh at those who believe, but strive to understand why they do. We're all the same."

Leaning down, Violet gently kissed his forehead.

"Goodbye, Daddy..."

The four Hunt wives stood before the open coffin. Arms around each other, they took one last look at the man who had loved them.

Eyes red, Taylor nodded to the Funeral Director standing quietly to the side. With practiced, unobtrusive ease, he came forward and closed the half lid. Fred's face slowly vanished from view.

It was over.

Saturday was quiet.

Grandma and Grandpa left early, having a long drive home to Indiana. Fred's cousin Debbie, the only relative of his to make it, also was gone by noon, with promises of more visits to come. Anita set off on a grocery run, much needed. Freddy vanished with one of the vans on some date or other: Cindy was looking very smug as he drove away, and was soon gone herself after Greg came to pick her up. The family was scattered. Life was normal.

Violet sat in the basement, lying on the couch, book in hand. The noise of children playing could be faintly heard from various directions, but for the most part she had succeeded in cutting herself off from the rest of the world. For the first time in ages, she was lost in a book, mind filled with a story of true love, however unconventional...

Her cell phone rang.

Why was that even in this room? Sighing, she marked her place, got up, and grabbed the phone.

"Hello?"

There was a moments silence. Maybe it was a prank call. Maybe...

"Um, hi. Is this ... Violet?" The stranger's voice was shy, quiet. Almost as if the whole idea of talking was new to her.

"Yes..." Her voice was suspicious. Who else would be answering Violet's phone? Then ... her heart jumped. "Wait, is this ... my Redheaded Witch?"

"Um, yeah. Hi."

"Oh my god! It's you! Mommy Taylor said you'd call, but I didn't think you would! Wait!" Violet looked around. This was too public a spot! She ran up to the top of the stairs, slamming the door closed and locking it. "Sorry! I just didn't want the kids bothering us! Hi! Cindy, is it?" She started back down the stairs, the sound of her footsteps lost in the beating of her heart.

"Ah, Cynthia, actually. I just sort of changed it the other day. It's a very long story..."

"I have the feeling," Violet said, chuckling "that we're both going to have lots of those. Cynthia ... I like it." She sat back down on the couch.

"Thanks ... I like you." It came out rushed, striking Violet to her core. She ... the Redheaded Witch liked her ... oh, gods ... For a moment, she forgot how to speak. She swallowed.

"Do ... do you believe in fate, my Redheaded Witch?"

"I ... I know lots of things, now. Enough that I can't say there is no fate, but also enough that I think fate isn't the answer most of the time."

"Our family, maybe, was created by fate. Daddy," and Violet's voice choked up for a moment, "Daddy would always joke about it, but I think my Moms believe. I think I do too."

"My story is so strange. But I want so much to tell you everything. You're all I've been able to think of."

"I keep seeing you, standing there over my bed, your read hair framing those beautiful eyes..."

"I think I love you..."

Violet gasped. No one, outside of family, had ever told her that. Had ever come close. And, this girl, who had only seen her once...

"I love you too..." It came out as a whisper, hanging there between them. Moments ticked by.

"Cynthia?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I see you? Tonight?"

"Yes ... have you eaten yet?"

The beat up old Ford came to a stop next to the mail box, then slowly pulled into the driveway. Parking next to the minivan, Violet turned the key off, set the emergency break, and sat back in the seat.

She was here.

Now what?

This was crazy. The whole week had been crazy. Her life was crazy. Images of her Dad again flooded her mind, but with effort she pushed them down. Later. She could mourn some more later.

Maybe that's why she was here. For the first time in her seventeen year old life, Violet was, to a small degree, an outsider in her loving family. The days she had spent unconscious were time the others had used to mourn Daddy, to come to grips with the new reality. Cindy had filled her in about everything: the chaos, Mommy Taylor going almost catatonic, and Mommy Rachel basically taking over the family and getting them over the worst of it. While Violet wouldn't have wanted to go through all that, now that it was time for her to grieve she had to do much of it alone. Her personality won't allow her to drag family that had finally climbed up a bit from the loss, and were ecstatic about her recovery, back to the first stages of grief. Who could she grab onto...