Trouble's Brewing (Stirring Up Trouble Trilogy 2)

“Sounds like a plan.” I needed to remember my own plan. Get my mother a date before things got too weird around here. I knew I could sic Anya on the problem. She adored my mother, and she’d love to find her true love. The problem with getting Anya involved was that, well, Anya would be involved. Once I opened that can of worms, I’d never be able to close it. Anya would be in my face.

I definitely couldn’t handle Anya right now. Although the more she was around, the less we’d see of Finn. I needed to continue my lessons with Finn. Anya was going to have to be Plan B. Or Plan E.

Maybe Milo would have a great idea.

“Hey, Mom!” I called from my spot on the couch. “What do you want me to do?”

“Keep the laundry moving,” she said. “I want the hampers empty when they get here.”

“I’m sure they know we have laundry. I don’t think we need to hide it.”

“We’re going to have cloth napkins, extra towels, extra linens… lots of laundry to pile up over the next few days.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’m on it.” I gave Jasmine one last pat and then got up.

“I haven’t made the bed in the guest room, yet. Make the bed first. Then make up the sleeper sofa in the library for Milo.”

“Got it.”

“I laid out the bedding, and don’t forget you’re feeding Snowball for Mrs. McGregor this week.”

“I won’t forget.”

A comforter, sheets, and pillowcases were piled on the bed in the guest room. I grabbed the fitted sheets and moved the rest onto the dresser. Then I played figure-out-which-way-the-sheet-goes for about five minutes. I finally tugged the fourth corner onto the mattress. The bedding had been clean already. Mom was washing it so it would smell fresh and because she didn’t want anybody to see dust in her home. Lucky for me, she’d cut corners because she hadn’t taken off the bed skirt this time. I could never get those things on right.

I rushed downstairs to make up the couch for Milo. Mom had given him the most masculine stuff from our linen closet. Last time he visited, other than Halloween, I think she’d given him Mickey Mouse sheets. I had just managed to stuff the pillow into the dark blue case when the doorbell rang.

Milo!

I dashed for the door, and jumped over Jasmine who was rushing to hide in the library. Milo!

Mom was only a few steps behind me when I flung open the door.

“Milo!” I shouted as I flung my arms around him. “You’re here!” And taller. Hadn’t I just seen him at Halloween? “You’ve grown!”

“Zoe!” His deep voice rumbled through me like thunder as he picked me up, a foot off the ground.

I screeched. “Put me down!”

“Marjorie!” Mom exclaimed. “I thought you guys would never get here. Bill, so good to see you!”

It hit me suddenly that Mom had been looking forward to seeing them as much as I had.

Milo set me down, and I hugged his mother and then his father. I didn’t talk to them on the phone much anymore. I didn’t answer the house phone now that I had my cell. When I was younger, I used to talk to Marjorie a lot. I owed them so much for all their help during the Frog Fiasco. I hugged Milo’s mother again.

“We are so glad you guys are here,” my mother said, pulling me off of Marjorie. “Come on inside.” She released me and pulled Milo into a hug. “Such a handsome one you are.”

“What should we help with, Annie?” Milo’s mother asked. “We have Milo for any heavy lifting.”

“That’s what we had the boy for,” his father joked. “He needs to earn his keep.”

“Whatever you need, Mrs. Miller.”

“No hard labor for you here, Milo,” Mom said. “I think everything’s under control, Marjorie. Let’s catch up and then bring your luggage in. I’ll be glad to let you help me with dinner.”

“Annie, you shouldn’t have overdone it. You’ve been sick.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Mom said. “And I have a surprise for you at dinner tonight.”

“Dr. Finnegan!” Marjorie screeched. “We get to meet him tonight?”

“I’ve been driving all day,” Bill said.

“Oh, honey,” Marjorie said. “You’ll make a good impression.”

“Maybe I should freshen up a little?”

“That means Dad needs a nap,” Milo said in a loud fake whisper.

“Oh, Bill,” Marjorie said, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear.

“Your room is all made up,” Mom said, glancing at me for confirmation. “So you make yourself at home.”

“When should we start cooking, Annie?” Marjorie asked as she and Mom walked toward the kitchen.

“Milo, help me unload the car,” his dad said.

“I’ll help too.” I followed them out the door.

Milo handed me a suitcase. Then he grabbed two for himself and we went back inside. “That one’s mine,” he said.

“I’ll take it to the library.”

“And I’ll take these upstairs.”

I stuck my head into the kitchen to find my mother and Marjorie giggling and talking so fast that they were both talking at once and yet somehow following each other. They didn’t notice me, and I backed away quickly.

Milo and his dad were coming back in, each of them loaded down with a variety of backpacks, totes, and bags.

“Good grief. Is that everything?”

“One last thing,” Bill said. “The cooler, but I’ll get it.”

“Where do you want all this stuff, Dad?”

“Why don’t you put it over by the window there, and your mother and I will sort it out.”

Milo left his burdens by the window. “Upstairs?” he asked me.

I nodded and we escaped to my room to talk.

“Please tell me it’s going to be an all-witch holiday,” he said. “We have so much to talk about.”

“No non-witches here. Unless Jake comes over. But you are invited to Thanksgiving with Dad and Sheree and Jake tomorrow.”

“No Anya?”

“She doesn’t know you’re in town.”

He sighed with relief. “I can’t wait to meet Dr. Finnegan. My parents are dying to meet him. They bought my dad a new outfit.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I would tell you that they reread his potions text but they made me promise not to.”

I laughed. Wait. “You don’t tell them my secrets do you?”

“Of course not,” he said.

Looking like Chace Crawford may have been stunting my friend’s character development. “Do girls believe everything you say?”

“Usually.”

“Poor stupid girls.”

“Not fair, Zoe. You can’t tell me that you aren’t using your looks to get away with things.”

What looks? “I hope not. I’d be in trouble.”

Milo rolled his eyes. “You’re pretty, Zoe. You should look in the mirror once in a while.”

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. “Shut up. I don’t look like Chace Crawford.” I had boring brown hair and average everything.

“Uh. No. You don’t.” He tilted his head as he asked, “Are you saying I do?”

My cheeks flamed. “You know you’re hot.”

Milo grinned.

“I think we should change the subject,” I said.

“Okay, friend who thinks I’m hot.”

“Shut up.”

“Fine. Change the subject.”

I tried, but my mind was blank. The blood had rushed to my cheeks. Desperate, I blurted out, “You know who else is hot?”

Milo grinned at me.

“Dr. Finnegan.”

Milo almost swallowed his tongue. Finally, he managed to say, “Are you nuts? The man is 90.”

Chapter Eleven

“He looks like a model for an upscale men’s clothing line.”

“Nuh-uh. That’s crazy.” Milo shook his head.

“You’ll see. Anyway, we have to find somebody

for my mother.”

“What about that producer guy you caught her kissing? Is anything happening with him?”

“No. He’s not right for her. She’s not going to take him seriously.”

“Is there anybody else that she knows?”

“I can’t think of anybody. There’s nobody that works with her, and she doesn’t do much besides work.”

“Maybe Jake’s mother knows someone to set her up with.”