The quilt.
Someone – and I suspect I know who – has taken down all the photos of Warrick and me from the photo wall, and hung my quilt in their place. I step in close, drawn by the vivid red flowers. My fingers brush the shimmering gold thread we used for the bees’ trails and around their wings.
“I think it looks perfect,” Rafe says as he comes up behind me and presses a warm mug of tea into my hands. I take a sip. It’s just the way I like it.
I think of what Warrick would say if he saw the quilt on the wall.And I think of Rafe’s hardness pressing into my thigh. I press my thighs together as a warmth flutters its wings in my belly.
“I think so, too.”
I don’t ask what Rafe did with the photographs. This time, I’m not taking down the quilt.
Rafe spins me around so that I’m facing him. His two ear ‘tufts’ stick straight up, giving him a look of Siamese-cat mischief, but his face is unusually serious – a dark line forms between his eyebrows. “Listen,” he says. “I shouldn’t have insisted on staying with you, or on being under the covers. I can’t control what I do when I’m asleep, but I was the one who orchestrated the ah, situation we woke up to. You are blameless, Autumn, and I’d tell your husband that if he ever finds out. I know that you’re doing everything you can to help me get rid of my curse, and I didn’t mean to take advantage of that. I’ll be a good boy from now on, I promise.”
I swallow. I can’t help but compare his apology to one of Warrick’s. Warrick would apologise all the time, usually after he made me give up something I wanted to do, but I’d always come away from it feeling guilty myself.
You are blameless, Autumn.
Goddess, how I wanted that to be true.
“Rafe, I…there’s something I should tell you.” I stare at a spot behind his head.Am I really going to do this? Am I about to say something I can’t walk back?But then the object I’m looking at comes into focus, and it’s the wall clock with the minute-hand ticking towards half-past eight, and the reason Rafe was here at all last night slams into me.
“We’re late!”
“Huh?”
“We need to get to the council building,” I cry. “I’m about to miss the test!”
The answer is that assistance dogs and witch’s familiars are allowed in a restaurant, Rafe’s voice echoes in my head.
“That’s not the answer. Assistance dogs, yes, other pets only if the owner permits, but no animals are allowed in the food prep or storage areas,” I whisper, glaring at the Siamese cat washing his paw on the windowsill. “Can you go away? I’m trying to concentrate.”
As soon as I turned over the paper and saw the multiple-choice questions and the dots to fill in, all my old anxieties flooded back. My chest carved out and I sucked in breath after breath, but there’s never quite enough air. But then I remembered all of the silly skits from the night before, and I used my pen under the line of text to keep myself focused, and I slowly read each question under my breath, and the answers were right there.
I’m helping. And who are you calling a pet?
“You’recat-helping, which is not the same thing. Go away and sniff Mr Muffins’ butt or something.”
“Is everything okay, Mrs Abernathy?” Councillor Douglas looks up from his papers. He’s the only other person in the community centre, and he’s been charged with administering my test.
“Er, yes, sorry. I was just…thinking out loud.”
“The test rules don’t allow for auditory processing. I’ll forgive it this once, but don’t let it happen again.”
He sounds like a schoolteacher. It should be illegal for a schoolteacher to be that handsome?—
He’s not handsome,Rafe snaps inside my head.
“Shut up,” I mumble. “Stop listening to my thoughts.”
“Mrs Abernathy, this is your final warning.”
“I was just clearing my throat.”
An hour later, after marking my paper in front of me and making me feel even more like a misbehaving child, Councillor Douglas approvesmy personal license. I skip out of the council office and show Rafe the certificate.
“I can’t believe I did it. Now all we have to do is pass the inspection, and we can really open the meadery.”
“It’s all because of my help,” Rafe puffs out his chest. “I am a genius. This calls for a celebration.”
