Page 53 of Haunting the Deep

Crap. I’ve trapped myself.“Yeah.”

“Should we talk to your dad about it? I’d be happy to be there with you if you want.”

Double crap.“Maybe not yet?”

“No problem. Whenever you’re ready. You just give it a good think, and then we’ll tell your father and I’ll give you the potion.”

It’s times like these that I wonder if Mrs. Meriwether has some secret supermom handbook. She totally backed me into a corner. My choices are now what? Either tell her there’s a problem I need the potion for, or tell my dad I want witch training? “Great.”

Susannah helps me put an extra comforter on one of the four-poster beds while Alice works on the other one. My dad comes into the spare bedroom carrying a pitcher of water and four glasses on a silver tray. He sets it down on a round table between two armchairs.

“Silver tray, huh? I can see why Mom called you ‘Charles the fancy.’ ”

He suppresses a grin. “Hmmm. Maybe you’re right. AndmaaaybeI should just take this box of homemade Meriwether éclairs down with me when I go. They might be too fancy.”

“What?” I stop tucking in the comforter and look at him.

Mary comes into the room, freshly changed into maroon plaid pajamas.

My dad pulls out a pink pastry box tied with string from behind the pitcher. “It’s a real shame I’m going to have to eat these fancy éclairs by myself. We’ll just tell Mary that you didn’t want them.”

“Um, no. Sam, whatever you did, I need you to fix it stat,” Mary says with such a serious face that even Alice smiles.

I put both hands up in the air and do my best surrendering voice. “Okay, okay. I concede. You’re not fancy. Not even a little. Éclairs are an everyman’s food.”

He chuckles and puts the box back down on the table. “You girls sure you’ll have enough space in here? We have more bedrooms if you want them.”

“Two queen-sized beds are more than enough. And besides, we work better as a unit,” Alice says, and I warm. I’m part of a unit.

“Fair enough,” my dad says. “I’m headed to bed now, but just let Sam know if you need anything.”

“Night, Dad. Love you.”

He closes the door behind him, and it takes Mary all of two seconds to grab the éclair box.

She pulls the string and opens the lid. “Wow. Just, wow. They’re decorated with rosebuds. They look like little works of art.” Mary tilts the box so we can see. In her plaid pajamas, with her dark curls piled on top of her head, she looks just like a little kid.

Alice raises an eyebrow. “If you even think about eating mine, I will push you out of bed while you’re sleeping.”

Mary curls up in an armchair with a mouth full of éclair. “What? I can’t hear you; I’m busy.”

Alice takes the other armchair, and Susannah and I sit on the bed near them. Mary hands us the pastry box. There is a meow behind me.

“Really?” I turn around, and sure enough, the black cat is sitting on the bed, staring at me from under its Neanderthal brow.

“What?” Mary asks.

“That cat I told you about. For unknown reasons, this black behemoth slept in my bed last night. And by the way it’s all spread out now, I think it might be here to stay with us tonight.”

Susannah turns around and scans the bed. “Where?”

Alice leans forward in her black silk pajamas to get a better look. “Just to be clear, you’re saying there’s a black ghost cat on that bed with you?”

“Yeah, right here.” I put my hand out behind me, and it rubs its head against my fingers.

Alice smirks. “Leave it to you to become a witch cliché in less than a week.”

Mary claps her hands together and lets out a little squeal. “I love this. Spirit cats I can totally deal with, spirit humans…not so much.”