“I’ll check my inventory spreadsheets and see how many boxes we had on hand and file the insurance claim for that,” I say.
Sweat drips down my temple and I rub it off with my shoulder.
“Thanks for letting me borrow your clothes,” I tell him. “This would have been a real pain in the ass in my dress.”
“You want to go back to your house and change?” he asks. “Not that you don’t look great in my clothes. In fact, I’d prefer if you wore them all day. But you might be more comfortable for the rest of the cleanup wearing something of your own.”
“Yeah,” I say, grateful. “I absolutely do. But these clothes are already messy, and as much as I’d like a shower and my own clothes, let’s just get my store sorted out before I ruin my clothes. I’ll feel better having this taken care of.”
“You trying to say you’d rather have my clothes get ruined than yours?” Caleb says, arching an eyebrow.
“You caught me,” I tell him. “I’m on a secret mission to destroy all your clothes so that you have to walk around naked for the rest of your life. It’s my evil plan and you’ve found me out.”
An octopus who’s been inching slowly into the room stops, swiveling its eyes toward me and giving me a long look.
“That was a joke, for the record,” I tell the octopus. “Just in case. I don’t want Queen Annabelle thinking that I’m some sort of evil mastermind when in fact I’m just an overworked candy shop owner who happens to be a witch.”
“All right,” I say. “Do you think there’s any damage to the sheetrock?”
Caleb looks around with an expert eye.
“It looks like it dried off pretty well. Do you have any idea how long these little helpers were here for?”
“I should probably install cameras in the store,” I say.
“So you’re saying you don’t have cameras in your store?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I tell him. “I’ve never had a reason for them. But I suppose if I’m going to have random sea creatures show up… cameras are probably a bad idea all the same, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, I don’t think you want evidence of this,” he says. “Your insurance company might have a lot of questions if you’ve got about twenty octopi hanging out in your store repeatedly during massive storm events.”
“It’s a good point,” I say.
The octopus nods as if in agreement and then slithers farther over.
I don’t know how they found all the cleaning supplies and all the towels I had stored here, but they’re doing a good job, and I quickly decide that sometimes not asking questions is the best method when it comes to sentient octopi who can communicate telepathically.
The less I know, the better.
The only thing I need to figure out is how to get that ward back up and running to protect our town.
I sigh, exhausted.
“Come on,” Caleb says. “We’ve been here for a few hours now. Your store’s OK. I know you say you don’t want to change, but let’s go ahead and get you back home, get some food in you, and then we’ll head back out to help everybody else when you’re ready, OK?”
I nod in agreement.
Gunner barks.
“I’m hungry too.”
“Gunner, we cannot keep feeding you like we have been,” I say, laughing. “You don’t need three meals a day. You’re a dog.”
“I’m a very intelligent FAMILIAR and I’ll have you know that my cognitive resources also require fuel.”
“Right,” I tell him. “Would you settle for some fudge?”
“You know I would,” he says.
