The Big Day Brew-HaHa Read online

  The Big Day Brew-HaHa

  The Big Day Brew-HaHa

  Bigfoot Bay Witches Book 6

  Cat Larson

  The Big Day Brew-HaHa

  Bigfoot Bay Witches Book 6

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  Copyright © 2020 by Cat Larson

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events, or locales is purely coincidental.

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  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic means, including information storage and retrieval systems, except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews, without the written permission of the author.

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  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Cover design by 100 Covers

  Contents

  The Bigfoot Bay Witches Series

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  About the Author

  Also by Cat Larson

  The Bigfoot Bay Witches Series

  Witch on Ice

  Bewitched Brew

  Witch Bane and The Croaking Game

  Witch Haunt

  The Witch is Back

  The Big Day Brew-HaHa

  Chapter One

  “Who has the reception before the ceremony?”

  “Obviously, you’ve never been to an elf-leprechaun wedding before.”

  “Oh, and you have?”

  My sister, Violet, tucked a strand of flaming red hair behind her ear. “Well… no. But obviously, this is how they do things.”

  Obviously.

  Okay, so their customs were a bit on the wacky side, but so was this town. As long as Clare was happy, that was all that mattered.

  Her big day had finally arrived, and I wasn’t going to let anything ruin it.

  I watched the local band they’d hired, The Bigfoot Bay Boogiemen, set up their equipment. Was that a harp?

  Sage twirled around in her long and flowy gown. “Don’t we look fabulous?”

  She could look fabulous in a gunny sack filled with potatoes, and I told her so. But yeah, our bridesmaid dresses had turned out better than expected, thanks to Beth’s mad seamstress skills. When Clare had first shown us her design, I’d discreetly raised an eyebrow. Full-on nature tones in a mix of earthy browns and mossy greens? Très forest chic.

  “You look like a tree,” Sal said, coming up behind her.

  I rest my case.

  Her eyes grew soft. “Aww… thank you.”

  Only Sage would take that as the highest compliment. Violet and I glanced at each other and shrugged, checking out our own tree-like appearances. Oh well. At least the dresses were ubercomfortable.

  “Ooh!” Violet’s head swung toward the door when the man of the hour finally arrived. “Excuse me a sec.”

  She beelined over to Damon, who magically transformed from a hard-nosed police officer into a lovey-dovey puppy dog whenever he saw my sister.

  “I still can’t believe they’re dating,” I mumbled. A human-male-hating witch and a lowly man? Although to be fair, that wasn’t too accurate anymore. Damon wasn’t lowly, and she didn’t hate all human men, just my married ex-fiancé.

  “What’s that?” Sage asked.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  Even stranger still was seeing Sal here as Sage’s plus-one. And not just because he was Fernando’s brother and spitting image. No, this had to do with my plant-whispering best friend (who also happened to be a fairy) and her ‘relationships don’t interest me’ attitude. At least until Sal had stomped into town with his big ol’ boots and tattooed muscles. That was when the unthinkable happened. He was part plant; he had to be. That was the only logical explanation I could come up with.

  Griffin squeezed my hand, and I smiled. How could I forget my own unexpected surprise? Griff and I had been going strong for nearly two months now, and I was living out my own version of a fairy tale.

  “Don’t you girls look lovely!”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fairchild,” Sage and I said in unison.

  “You’re like something straight out of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

  I chuckled. Yeah, if that weren’t spot-on. “Yes, Beth did a great job. She’s very talented.” It couldn’t have been the easiest task to bring Clare’s vision of pixies frolicking in a dew-kissed forest to life. I scanned the rapidly filling room. “Speaking of, where is your daughter?”

  “She’s coming later with Randy. He’s finishing up with a business meeting.”

  I nodded. Beth’s husband wasn’t my favorite person in Bigfoot Bay, but at least I no longer saw him as a two-timing, cold-blooded killer. That was something.

  “It’s too bad your parents couldn’t be here for the celebration,” she said. “Have you spoken with them lately?”

  “Not for several weeks.”

  Mom and Dad were currently in some country that started with an X—again—for the summer, studying a fruit that allowed you to breathe underwater or something.

  “Give them my love when you do.”

  “Will do, Mrs. Fairchild.”

  “Do you happen to know where Violet is? I’d like to say hello.”

  I checked the spot where I’d last seen her, over by the door. She and Officer Lovestruck were nowhere in sight. “I’ve no idea. She’s with Damon somewhere.”

  “Well, I’m sure I’ll come across her while I’m mingling. Enjoy yourself tonight.”

  She winked at Griffin, then left. Like pretty much everyone else in town, she was ecstatic that my preschool to eighth grade boyfriend and I had recently gotten back together. According to Clare, we were destined to be. And I had to say, I’d finally come to the point where I believed that as well.

  “What the heck?” Sal said, shaking sparkles out of his hair. “This place is frickin’ nuts.”

  Hmm. That was the third time that unknown girl with the rainbow-colored ponytail had pranced by, tossing glitter at us. I wondered which side invited her?

  “But yet, you keep coming back.” Sage grinned.

  “Yeah, maybe that just means I’m also—” He vaulted back, horrified look on his face. “What the heck, Eve?”

  “Samm,” Sage corrected. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  I glanced down to see what had him so freaked, but I should’ve known—a frog. The little thing had jumped out in front of him, and for a macho man deathly afraid of widdle froggies, that must’ve been akin to a black cat crossing your path on Friday the 13th while walking under a ladder.

  Griffin looked away, hiding his smile. “It’s not mine, Sal,” I said. I didn’t even have a frog anymore, and in some teensy-tiny way, I missed it. But having my sister back outweighed that a gazillion fold. “And it’s gone now, so relax.” I gestured to the harmless cutie that’d hopped out through the cracked-open side door. Ever since Clarisse became extinct, the frog population in Bigfoot Bay had exploded. If I ever felt nostalgic, all I had to do was look down.

  “I’m gettin’ some food.” Sal clomped off.

  “They didn’t put it out yet,” I said, but he was already gone. Unfortunately for him, he was equally as likely to encounter a party-crashing amphibian on the other side of the room. If he thought he was escaping anything he was fooling himself.

  “Don’t you think—”

  “Hi!”

  Geez. I jumped, feeling like Sal for a moment. �
�Hi, Bettina.” Sneaky little thing.

  “Can I get you anything? Water? Soda? Punch?” She held up her glass. “Anything at all?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “What about you, Sage? Water? Soda? Punch? Anything at all?”

  “I’m good, thanks. Tell me, how’re you liking Bigfoot Bay so far?”

  “Oh, it’s just wonderful. So wonderful. The people are all so nice.” Clare’s maid of honor, and distant cousin, had only been in town off and on for the past month, but that seemed to be enough time to make an impression. “How about you, Griffin? Water? Soda? Punch? Any—”

  “Bettina,” I interrupted. “What about Clare? She must need help with something.” I looked at Sage. “Maybe we should go check on her.”

  It felt odd just standing around, doing nothing. It wasn’t as if we hadn’t hung out with her countless hours, talking Wedding Speak, but still… this was her day.

  “Oh no. You can’t do that,” Bettina said. “You understand; it’s bad luck to see the bride and groom before the ceremony. We must stay away.”

  I sighed. No, I didn’t understand, but it was another one of those traditions I couldn’t wrap my head around. The groom not seeing his bride-to-be before the wedding? That one I’d heard multiple times. But both of them not seeing anyone? It seemed such a shame for them to miss out on their own reception. No toasts? No first dance? No cake-cutting? I just did not get it. But then I didn’t have to. I was a witch, not an elf or a leprechaun.

  “Are you sure I can’t get or do anything for any of you? Fix your hair, maybe?”

  My hand instantly went to my head. “What’s wrong with my hair?” It was supposed to look tousled.

  “Or if you don’t want water or soda or punch and are looking for something a little stronger, I can get you that too.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Mr. Callahan stumbled over.

  Clare’s great-great-grandfather “Old Man Callahan” didn’t look a day over fifty. Apparently, elves aged well. Or maybe he was just well-pickled.

  “Didn’t someone offer a drink?” He held up his glass of clear liquid, which I’d bet anything wasn’t water. I assumed it to be poitín, the super potent Irish moonshine Niall had insisted upon serving. For good luck.

  “It appears you already have one, Mr. Callahan.”

  His eyes lit up. “Well, so I do.” He took a big gulp. “That was quick. Many thanks to you.”

  He tipped his glass then stumbled back off, but not before calling me Violet. Even though I looked nothing like my sister, he tended to confuse me with her when he was drunk. Which was pretty much always.

  I shook my head. “And he’s supposed to walk Clare down the aisle?”

  Sage responded, but I couldn’t hear; the band had started up. Within seconds, guests were dancing all around us.

  “We’d better move over,” I yelled. “I think we’re right in the middle of the dancefloor.”

  A whirling dervish wannabe came spinning by, knocking into Griffin, who in turn knocked into Bettina. Her glass of punch splashed down the front of his suit.

  “Oh my goodness! I am so, so sorry! I am so clumsy.”

  We moved away from the madness and into a corner, the entire time Bettina apologizing and fawning all over Griffin. She looked ready to burst into tears at any moment.

  “It’s okay,” he told her. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  She dabbed the wet splotch on his suit with an equally wet napkin that’d been wrapped around her glass. “I am so, so sorry.”

  “It was an accident, Bettina. Please, don’t worry about it.”

  “Let me just go grab you some more napkins.”

  She ran off, flapping her arms like a flustered bird. Griffin gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m going to take care of this in the bathroom. When Bettina comes back, tell her thanks anyway and remind her it was just an accident. No big deal.”

  “Okay, I’ll try.” Not that she’d believe me. After spending time with her these past weeks, it’d become clear anything that went wrong was her fault, and she’d do whatever it took to make it up to you. Incorrect tablecloth color? Her fault, even though Clare had accidentally picked seafoam instead of seaweed. Mermaid and merman cake topper? Her fault, even though the bakery had sent the wrong one. “Bettina has got to chill out a bit. She’s going to give herself an ulcer.”

  “She just wants to be helpful. She can’t help it; it’s her nature.”

  Yes, her nature. Bettina was a brownie, and that had really puzzled me at first. Considering that she and Clare were cousins, and Clare was an elf, I didn’t know how that was possible. My confusion had earned me a nice long lecture from Violet on the gnome family tree. Apparently, my sister was taking over for Mom in her absence.

  “She can’t change who she is any more than you can change your purple hair,” Sage continued. “Which you’re getting more of, by the way.”

  Once again, my hand went to my low updo. Dang it. And here I thought I’d hidden it well, painstakingly disguising all the purple under a thick braid and lots of messy, but strategically placed, blonde locks. I couldn’t help it that more strands kept popping up every time I blinked.

  Sage slapped my hand away. “Oh, stop it. It’s a part of you. Accept it and be proud. It means your power is increasing.”

  That I could accept. Honest. I was coming more to terms with my witchy side, slowly inching down that path again. But the hair?

  “But I don’t want to be a blueberry head,” I grumbled.

  “Howdy, gals.” Officer Mike Hansen, Damon’s trusty sidekick, popped up behind Sage and me. “Great party, eh?”

  It was hard not to smile back at his plump apple-cheeked grin. The guy had more sweetness in him than the dozen sodas Sage threw back every day.

  “It sure is, Mike.”

  “Nice place too. Huh, all this time in Bigfoot Bay, and I didn’t have a clue it existed. This whole time I thought it was just all woods here.”

  “You and me both,” I said.

  The reception was being held in a stone building that reminded me of an old castle, smack-dab in the middle of town. The ceremony would be performed in the adjoining chapel, a structure I swore had been transplanted from the eighteenth-century British Isles. I felt like I was in an enchanted forest wonderland.

  “Imagine the history… If only these walls could talk, eh?” Mike nudged me. “Speaking of, we haven’t seen you around study group lately. I sure hope you’re not avoiding us.”

  “Oh… no, of course not. I’ve just been super busy helping Clare and Niall with all their wedding stuff, but I promise I’ll be back when everything slows down.”

  “Great!”

  Sage gave me a look. Okay, we’d been busy, but not that busy. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t enjoyed the one gathering I did attend; it’d actually been kind of fun. I just felt I had nothing to contribute. Mike assumed I was an ancient history buff (fanatic) like him, all because he’d seen my family grimoire which disguises itself as The Rise and Fall of Mesopotamian Civilization to non-witches. I didn’t want to show up to club and look like an imposter. Those members were hardcore.

  Bettina returned with a stack of napkins. “Where’d Griffin go?” Before I could respond, she caught sight of Mike. “Oh, hello there.” She blushed, inspecting her shoes.

  “Bettina, how nice to see you again.” He cast his gaze down as well, those apple cheeks changing from Pink Lady to Red Delicious.

  Well, well, well… what do we have here? I wonder—

  “Excuse me, ladies. Got a light?”

  My head swung around, and my eyes nearly ended up on the other side of the room. I rubbed them hard. “Mrs. Swanson?”

  As in ‘former elementary teacher and current owner of Murphy’s Pet Store’ Mrs. Swanson?

  Knock me over with a butterfly wing; it was. And she had a big ole stogie hanging from her lips.

  “Since when do you—”

  “At your service, milady.”
<
br />   A man I’d describe as ruggedly handsome reached between us, extending a torch lighter to Mrs. Swanson’s cigar.

  “Why, thank you, young man.” She batted her eyelashes. Was she… flirting? No. Impossible.

  “The pleasure’s all mine.”

  Sage and I gawked in awe as this guy with the long, thick hair and beard down to his—bare?—chest kiss her hand before departing. How in the heck did you lose a shirt?

  “Mrs. Swanson?” I asked again in disbelief.

  She blew out a puff of smoke, and I waved it away, only to catch sight of someone with the longest neck I’d ever seen splashing his hands around in the punch bowl.

  What the flip is going on?

  “You ladies enjoy your evening now. Don’t forget that life is for merrymaking, so live it up a little.”

  With a wink she skipped off and joined the merry-go-round on the dance floor, spinning herself into a frenzy.

  “Uh, Sage?”

  A hulking man lumbered past, making the floor shake. Now, where did he come from?

  “Is it just me or is something really off here?”

  Chapter Two

  “You mean because of that girl sobbing her eyes out in the corner when this is supposed to be a celebration?”

  “What?” I spun around and saw the girl Sage was referring to. She was dressed all in white—jilted bride? “No, I hadn’t even noticed—pfft!” I flashed Rainbow Pony a dirty look as I brushed glitter off my tongue. “I don’t recall there being this many on the guest list. I don’t know half of them. Do you?” And the ones I did…

  I spied Mrs. Eva Beaumont cozying up against the wall with someone other than her husband. Well, at least that was normal. According to Mr. Fairchild, resident ghost of the Bigfoot Bay Hotel, she checked in often for “business meetings.”