He still didn’t look convinced. I swear to God, his eyes flicked toward the yellow basement door, just for a second. Then they snapped back to me.
“Daniel.” My voice dropped. “You’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t be ridiculous. What’s going on?”
He didn’t answer right away, just stared at Tara and me, weighing something in his head. Then, finally, he nodded.
“Yeah. You’re right. Nothing’s going on.” He gave my hands a gentle squeeze.
That was when the low thudding of rotors started to hum from the distance. Outside, the dogs went nuts. Their barking echoed off the walls.
“Shit. The helicopter’s early. I gotta get the dogs in,” Daniel said.
“Wait, I’ll help,” I offered, starting to move.
“No. I don’t want you having another allergic reaction,” he called over his shoulder as he rushed out. The kitchen door slammed shut behind him, the sound swallowed by the roar of the helicopter blades.
“You’re allergic to dogs?” Tara asked, eyebrows raised as she looked up from the counter.
“I’m not sure. Maybe a little. Nothing a bit of allergy meds can’t fix.”
But allergy meds couldn’t fix what was knotting up in my chest. It wasn’t just that Daniel was treating me like some fragile little thing who couldn’t be left alone for a few hours. Or as if he were hiding something.
It was the dog allergy thing too.
I’d never told him about the red bumps. By the time he’d come to bed that night, the bumps had nearly disappeared.
So how did he know?
I watched him gather the dogs. The helicopter was descending now, wind throwing leaves and dust in every direction. One by one, the dogs trotted into Hudson’s hut, barking against the spinning air.
Daniel came rushing back in. “I need a few things from upstairs.”
I heard him moving fast overhead, his heavy steps echoing down through the ceiling. Moments later, he reappeared, his laptop under his arm.
“I’ll be back in a few hours, tops.” He leaned in and kissed me, acting like our little argument had never happened. “You be good,” he said with a grin, and then he was gone.
I watched from the kitchen window as he ducked into the wind. One of the crew, crouching, guided him to the open helicopter door.
Daniel turned back once. Worry lined his face, despite the fake smile he forced. He lifted a hand in a slow wave, then disappeared inside.
The helicopter lifted into the sky, the sound fading bit by bit.
Behind me, Mochi’s voice rang out, chipper and clear. “Woman,” he said. “Woman in the basement.”
I didn’t move, just stood there, staring through the glass as the helicopter became a shrinking dot in the distance.
“This is the kitchen, Mochi,” Tara corrected him gently. “God,” she muttered, half to herself. “I really need that flour for the tortellini, and Hudson’s phone keeps going straight to voicemail.”
“Why don’t you get it real quick?” I asked, pairing the question with an innocent shrug.
She hesitated. “No. It can get a little lonely out here in this big house, all by yourself.”
“I’m not alone,” I said, a little amused. “I’ve got Mochi and the dogs. I think I’ll survive for, what, how long does it take you to grab flour? An hour?”
“Tops,” she said, sounding more convinced now. “There’s a little store just down the road.”
“Seriously, go. I’ll take a bath. By the time I’m out, you’ll be back.”
She still looked uncertain, like something in her gut hadn’t fully let go.
