“Where’s the party?” she asked.
“Charlie’s room.”
“The one you guys do the meetings in? Is it big enough?” It was hard to keep a straight face knowing what she was imagining.
I just took her hand and urged her down the hall following some of our laughing crew into the room.
It was definitely crowded when we got in there, but with people sprawled around a game board on the floor in the center of the room. They’d moved most of the furniture to the periphery, leaving chairs and couches around the edges for people who didn’t want to sit on the floor.
Everyone cheered when we came in, but it was really because Kelly walked in right behind us.
“About damn time,” Dan said, rubbing his hands together. “Now we can start.”
Maia looked like she’d just walked into an alternate reality, trying to reconcile her assumptions against what she was witnessing.
I whispered, “Kelly is our GM. Game can’t start without him.”
She cocked her head. “Your...game master?”
Kelly appeared at her other side and flourished a cloak to cheers of delight. He winked at her. “I prefer Storyteller…”
“Come on,” I said, fighting back laughter at the look on her face. “Let’s grab food before they start.”
The table in the other room had trays of food. Maia looked it over, then whipped around to look at me. “Is this…?”
I kissed her cheek and handed her a plate. “The Cottage? Yeah. You didn’t get to eat it the other night, so I figured I’d make it up to you.”
I felt like a dick when I’d gotten up in the morning and seen how much effort she’d gone to and I hadn’t been in a place to appreciate it. I’d asked my assistant to call the restaurant to order it the next night, but she was informed in no uncertain terms that they didn’t do takeout. I called them myself and managed to talk them into catering our party. Fame had its benefits.
She looked down at the plate, lip trembling. “Thank you.”
Shit.
If she got emotional, I was going to be a mess, but she locked it down and started putting food on her plate.
“Do you want me to grab you a beer?” she asked when I took our plates and found a spot to sit. “Water while we’re here,” I said. “Dan’s sober, so at family events we all refrain in solidarity.”
She narrowed her eyes at me.
I had to get close to her ear to say, “Any other assumptions you could be wrong about?”
She shook her head, but I could see her looking around the room, reassessing what she thought she knew about us as we ate.
They started the game and she got to see Kelly in his element, hilarious and captivating. He’d grown up reading to his younger siblings, doing all the voices and trying to make up for the fact they couldn’t afford any of the entertainment the other kids had.
“So how does this work?” Maia asked me, trying to piece it together.
“It’s like a board game and RPG combo that Kelly designed. He’s the genius behind most of our show. Says a show should still tell a story.”
“Stop gabbing and go!” Charlie called from across the board.
“What’s your character?” Maia asked quietly.
“The Crone!” Everyone around us yelled at the same time.
I jumped up onto the chair, swept my arm across my face mysteriously, and called out the prophecy I’d been keeping secret for months, just waiting for a chance to play again.
Everyone froze as they realized the implications for the game and then the room erupted into pandemonium.
