I didn’t remember driving back to Ordinary, but when I got there, I didn’t want to go home. Not to mine, where a demon had decided to cast his stupid spell, and not to Ryder’s, because, pot on the window sill or not, I just didn’t have it in me to think about sunlight and water and patience.
So it was maybe no surprise that I pulled up in front of a little aqua cottage that I’d only been to once.
Spud was very interested in our stop, sniffing at the glass of the window as if there were a smell right outside the car that he really, really liked, but couldn’t quite get.
“I should just go home.” I stared at the door. “Or over to Myra’s or Jean’s. Jean’s probably at Hogan’s. So Myra. I should go to Myra’s.”
I had almost turned on the Jeep’s engine when the porch light flicked on and the door opened.
A familiar tall, lean figure stood in that doorway, spider slippers akimbo.
Than waited a moment, then moved sideways in that space, inviting me in.
I rested my head on the steering wheel for the count of three, ran through my options again—Myra would worry and mother me, Jean would worry and try to fix whatever was going on between Ryder and me—or Death.
I chose Death.
Than didn’t move as Spud and I got out of the vehicle and strolled up the walk. He just watched me, his dark eyes glittering, his face placid.
I stopped on the front step. Spud wagged his tail excitedly, but stayed at my side because he was the bestest of good boys.
“Can I stay here for the night?”
Than blinked. Something crossed his face, some emotion, but I was too tired to try and figure it out.
“You don’t have to say yes.”
“Come in, Reed Daughter.” He waved at the interior of his house.
“Spud too?”
His gaze drifted down, and Spud instantly sat, whining and eager, tail swinging.
“He is a ‘good boy’?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then.” The hand again, the wave.
We rushed into the house, Spud the happiest I’d seen him since the dragon pig had let him lay on its hoard of stuffed toys.
Than wore striped pajama bottoms with a matching striped, button-up pajama shirt. The spider slippers looked even more alarmed than the last time I’d seen them.
“Is this a business call?” he asked.
“No.”
That thing traveled across his face. Something like interest? Delight?
“Then this is a social visit?”
“Yes.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“Well, what’s left of it, yeah.”
“Are you staying?”
