Then she’d grown away from me in college. She’d begun to call less and less, and then, she’d started to change. She wasn’t as sure of herself. Her glowing personality was muted, stressed. Maybe that was normal. Maybe it was part of growing up. But it still hurt to see this version of my happy girl. Something was off.
Like finding the counter empty. No note in sight. It was just unlike her.
I hit the brew button on the coffee maker, then headed to my room to change. Every step of the way I attempted to reassure myself. Tilly probably felt much better and had gone out for a morning jog or something and just forgot to let me know. Or just didn’t want to wake me as she left to run some errands. Either was possible and seemed more logical than some weird adult kidnapping scenario. She might’ve been aggravated to find me asleep on the hallway floor, leaving me there in punishment.
As I passed Tilly’s room, I swore, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something on her bed. I stopped and eased into the room, feeling complete disbelief for one second before my muscles eased. All my worries melted away as I moved deeper into the room.
Tilly was in her bed, sound asleep in her perfectly straightened room. The lamp stood upright, and the blankets were on the bed and the bookshelf wasn’t face down on the carpet. I tiptoed into her room and laid my hand on her forehead.
Cool as a spring morning. What the heck?
Maybe it had all been just a dream? Surely, I hadn’t been in the bathroom cleaning the bite long enough for her to tidy her room. Was I? No. Definitely not. I’d started coffee too, but even with that, it’d been five minutes, tops.
I stood beside her, looking down, hoping this had just been a dream since the alternative meant either I was crazy or I got zapped to an alternate reality, which was impossible.
And where the heck had that rabbit come from? I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that a bunny had been in my house, Tilly’s room was a mess just a few moments ago, and my daughter had been nowhere to be seen. Right now, everything looked normal, like it had never happened. Like I was nuts.
As I brushed the hair from Tilly’s forehead, the bandage on my hand glared up at me. That was definitely real. I hadn’t dreamed that part, at least, and had the painful proof of it. I wasn’t a lunatic. There had to be an explanation.
I brought my hand away from her face and stared at it. Sweet hell, this was insanity. My daughter had randomly vanished and reappeared? A bunny had been in my house and bit me?
Something weird was going on.
Deciding to leave my daughter sleeping, I walked out of her room and pulled the door shut because if somehow that damned bunny had made it back inside, I didn’t want it to get into her room. Then I made my way to the kitchen where I pulled out a mug. The pot of coffee was nearly full.
“Caffeine first, then shower,” I told myself, trying to shake off the weird sense that something was wrong.
With some caffeine in my blood, maybe all of this would make sense. Maybe? Possibly.
After I poured a cup of coffee, adding a generous helping of creamer, I headed out to the back patio to enjoy some fresh air. The October morning was that perfect mix of cool, but not too cold, and early enough that no one else was about. That was the one thing I loved. Maybe I didn’t have the biggest house, the best clothes, or the fanciest furniture and decorations, but my home was perfect for me. It bordered the forest, so my little patio had a stunning view at all times. And although there was a walking path at the edge of the trees, maybe a quarter-acre from my patio, it wasn’t well-traveled, making me almost feel like this place was my own little escape from the world.
I sat on the patio lounger with a groan of relief and took a slow sip of my warm drink. Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep, cleansing breath of the woodsy air while my thoughts spun. I needed a few moments to absorb the events that had just happened. I couldn’t tell anyone about it, they would think I was insane. Not that I had a big circle of friends anyway. Who would I tell?
I had just taken another sip of my coffee when I looked up and realized I wasn’t alone. I probably should’ve swallowed, because in my yard a beaver, a cat, a raccoon, a koala, a skunk, and a squirrel stared at me. Holy crap. I hoped that skunk didn’t turn around.
They sat in a line, so it was easy to differentiate between them and they were staring, hard, atme.
Okay, uh, well, I lived in an area surrounded by woods. It’s not uncommon to see squirrels, skunks, and other forest animals. But this? This is weird. Really freaking weird. We didn’t havekoalasin Doveport. That much I knew.
When I did finally swallow my coffee, it went down the wrong way, causing me to go into a coughing fit. I struggled to catch my breath and was sure I was about to die or pass out. Would the woodland creatures save me if I collapsed on the deck? Like some sort of Snow White fairytale situation. I closed my eyes again and focused on controlling the urge to cough up an internal organ. “This can’t be real. Can’t be real. Can’t be real,” I gasped between breaths.
Of course, it wasn’t real. There was no way in all of super hell that I was seeing a freaking koala in my yard on the very same day I’d been bitten by a bunny inside my house. And why were they all staring at me?
When I finally convinced myself to open my eyes again, breathing regularly again, I stared for a second at my yard. It was empty; as if a petting zoo had never been sitting there, quietly judging me. I cast a cautious one-eyed glance at the spot, breathed deeply, turned fully to stare, ready to meet the gaze of a gawking beaver, or a judgmental skunk, or even a koala. But the space, the line of grass in the backyard, was empty. Nary a wild beast in view. I checked the other yards I could see—only one was fenced and Cherylyn Brentwood and her ten-year-old son lived there. Neither hide nor hair of anything with fur remained. Thank God. Except that meant maybe I was losing my marbles.
I shook my head and walked inside the house. “Koalas in the backyard. Like I live in Australia. Pull yourself together, Beth.” I started pulling things out from the cabinet to make my mama’s famous oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. I might need to write down all the weird experiences I’d been having lately, just in case I need an MRI on my freaky brain, but until then, I could bake.
The only school in town was having a bake sale to raise money for the art department, and I was donating a few batches of cookies. Plus making these cookies always seemed to relax me. Maybe I’d be able to talk myself into believing that none of the crazy that happened this morning was real. Because it wasn’t. Couldn’t be.
Or the cookies would turn into baby dragons and fly off.
Either way, later on, I’d either be delivering cookies or going to the doctor. But what I wouldn’t be doing? Sitting my hefty butt on the couch and trying not to lose my mind.
CHAPTERTHREE
Tilly emerged from her bedroom just as I pulled the last batch of cookies out of the oven. Good—and suspicious—timing. I glanced at her and pressed my lips into a thin line to keep from laughing. Her brown hair, usually kept so perfectly groomed, was a mass of unruly curls. I thought I saw a nest in there somewhere.
I just hoped it wasn’t the dang bunny’s nest.
