“I appreciate the offer,” I told him. “But why don’t you meet us at the house in fifteen minutes? I’d like the chance to get to know you better.”
My daughter dropped her head, looking absolutely mortified.
“Mom, is that really?—”
“Yes.” I understood her frustration. Other high school friends had been driving her around for the last year without me running a background check. But those friends weren’t living with one foot in the demon world. Jared might have helped the girls out, but before I trusted him to drive them, I needed a lot more information.
I dug in my purse for a piece of paper and a pen, then scribbled our address on the back of a grocery receipt. “Meet us there?”
“Sure thing Mrs. Connor,” he said.
“For crying out loud, Mom!” she said, after he waved and headed off towards his car. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?”
“Allie, sweetheart, this isn’t a boy thing. It’s a demon thing,” I added, lowering my voice to an almost inaudible whisper.
“But that doesn’t mean he can’t like me.”
“I’m sure he does like you, but I need to?—”
“Mom.” She winced a little, as if she didn’t mean to get so loud. “Mom, I just want—Oh, never mind. It’s fine.”
She shot a frustrated glance toward Stuart and Eliza, then turned and headed back to the playscape where she plunked herself down beside her brother.
I exhaled, guilt welling inside me. Because in that moment I realized why she was so frustrated.
It wasn’t a demon thing.
It wasn’t a boy thing.
It was a teen thing, and right then, all my daughter wanted was to feel like an average teen, even if for just one last, lingering moment.
Since I once again got waylaid by Delores on the way to the parking lot, Stuart and Eliza easily beat us home. I found a note from Stuart on the kitchen table telling me he would text with an ETA tomorrow. I texted back that I would fill him in on all things demonic when he arrived back in San Diablo, and though he returned a smiley face, I was quite certain that he was mostly smiling about being away.
The truth is that I’d never wanted to get Stuart involved in this part of my life. Of course, I’d never anticipated that this part of my life would come knocking on my suburban doorstep. But now that I was back in the demon hunting game, I couldn’t help but want him to be all-in. I wanted him fighting the good fight, telling me that we were going to figure this out. Telling me thatwe were going to be able to protect Allie and help her get through whatever was coming.
I didn’t want him running scared from her, but I couldn’t help but fear that was exactly what he was doing.
I shoved the thoughts aside as Allie called my name, the shrill sound of her voice sending terror shooting through me. “Allie?” I turned, grabbing a knife leftover from breakfast off the kitchen table as I practically leaped into the living area, only to find that there was no demonic crisis.Thiscrisis had little brother written all over it.
The guilty party howled on the floor, clearly upset by this sister’s reaction to the chocolate milk he’d spilled all over her favorite white T-shirt, not to mention my beige sofa.
“Mother! I just changed!”
“Not a crisis,” I said calmly, picking Timmy up and soothing him. “Go change again. I’ll wash your shirt, and I’ll see what I can do about the couch. And you, Mister,” I said, tapping Timmy, nose, “you get to go play quietly in the corner.”
“Play band?” Timmy asked as Allie huffed in frustration before pounding up the stairs.
“That, kiddo, is not quiet.” I plopped him on the floor. “Coloring books.”
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” He’d behaved so well earlier that this meltdown was probably inevitable.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.” I got down on my haunches as I said the word over and over again, matching his loudness. This wasn’t a trick I tried often, and it must have been absurd enough to distract him into submission, because his eyes went wide and he burst out laughing.
“Coloring books?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
Score one for the adult team.
