The mouse had finally succumbed. Cat walked slowly across the room with her prize like a queen, making a brief cameo in the recording. “Oh, and I’m rooming with a feline now. Meet Cat.” When she saw the dead mouse, she changed her tone. “Never mind. Don’t look too close at that killer.”
Behind us the fire sparked. The blaze was going full-onWhite Christmas.All we needed was Bing Crosby on the record player. Heaven continued chatting with the people commenting on her live feed.
“AngelFire wants to know when the inn is going to be open for business.” A stray ember leapt from the fireplace, and she jumped back. “What’s up with the smoke?”
“I wouldn’t know. It’s been a few years since I lit one.” Like two hundred. I’d been trying to forget that part of my life. If someone asked me to go camping, I’d laugh in their face.
“You know, boos”—she paused to wave the smoke from her face—“I don’t think we can ignore this smoke. Tiff and I have to sign off and deal with the fireplace. Until tomorrow, be radiant!” She flashed a deuces sign and peaced out.
Which is when she turned to me and yelled, “You’re going to set this house on fire!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
The room was filling with smoke. “Do we need to open a flue?” I squatted down to look at the fireplace. “Is there a pull cord?”
There was no way to see into the fireplace, especially when I didn’tknow what to look for. Also, the fire wasn’t crackling anymore, it was roaring like an angry, adult male lion. A whole pride of them.
“I’m calling 911,” she said, her eyes wide with fear.
“Heaven, no. The firefighters will be too delicious. You can’t drain a first responder on our second night in town.”
“Firefighters aren’t my type, Tiffenie. You know that.”
“Don’t be sexist. There are women firefighters. Plus, I don’t think you’re going to care. You’re going to want a bite, trust me.”
“Trustme,” she parried. “We need help.” She waved at the gray plumes billowing out from the fireplace.
“Just go lock yourself in the bathroom. Take Cat with you.”
Halfway up the stairs, she said, “You realize you’re locking me upstairs while the house is on fire?”
“You’ll be fine. You can’t die again.”
If there was ever a moment to start smoking again, this was it.
A couple of the town heroes were still spraying down the fireplace with a hose while I watched from the Happily Ever After mobile. Heaven was waiting in the attic with the bats like a princess waiting to be rescued. My spirits swung from “It’s not that bad” to “Let’s drive back to LA and pretend this never happened.”
As I fished around in the driver’s side door pocket for a cigarette, a man in an oversized jacket with reflective lettering that spelled outValentine firecame over and leaned in the window.
“Hey there,” he said. “Hang tight and don’t go back inside till we give you the all clear.”
“Got it.” But soon, I was tapping my foot impatiently. The fire was out and I needed to get these local heroes off the property before Heaven let herself out and decided to get under one of their big rubber jackets for a bite. Not to mention sunrise was coming. It was time to wrap this up.
Fuck it. I went back inside. In the house, no one looked that busy or concerned. One of the firefighters was rolling up a hose, while another casually thumbed through a stack of my books.
At the sight of me, he glanced up without bothering to hide his snooping. “Hi, I’m Pete.”
“I’m Tiffenie,” I said, edging closer.
“I was just browsing through your library. Self-help, huh?”
I was about to be mad when he said, “I’ve been meaning to readThe Seven Habits of Highly Effective Peoplefor a while. Like, since high school.” He laughed at himself and thumbed through some other titles.Who Moved My Cheese?andGet Out of Your Own WayandA Beginner’s Guide to BDSM.
“You can have that one if you want.” The diagrams were a little too hard to follow. All those straps and knots—I might as well have signed up for a sailing class.
“Uh…thanks.”
