Page 13 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

Talula let Dahlia’s words wash over her, absorbing Dahlia’s story. A memory tickled at the back of her mind, her summer shifts at the café between college semesters. “Did your parents move here about five years ago?”

Dahlia bolted up, her hand gripping Talula’s. “Yes!”

“Was your dad really tall? Did he like wearing quarter-zip sweaters?”

Dahlia laughed. “He called them aca-casual—academic casual.”

“He came into the shop once in a while.” Talula grinned at her memory of the man with a booming laugh and Dahlia’s dimples.

“Really?”

Talula nodded. “He liked that it was quiet here, and that there was always something weird to look at. Mostly, he came in when he was stuck on an article or something for his research. He said he liked to air out his thoughts and pick around them for the good stuff.”

Dahlia sniffed through a chuckle. “Yeah. That sounds like him.”

“He always ordered a coffee but had the good sense not to drink it.” Talula’s thumb moved in soft circles over Dahlia’s hand. “He’d ask me about my day, the stuff in the store, what kind of poisons we put in the espresso—”

“No!” Dahlia gasped in daughterly horror. “He didn’t!”

“It was our running joke,” Talula reassured her. “It was always a good day when your dad came in.” She squeezed Dahlia’s hand. “Like father, like daughter.”

Talula held Dahlia’s tear-glazed gaze. Dahlia gave Talula a slight smile. The moment stretched on, making Talula’s pulse race.

Then, Dahlia gave a big, wet, mucusy sniff. “Do you have any tissues?”

“Yes!” Talula leapt into action, rummaging for the tissue box and handing it to Dahlia. Dahlia plucked a tissue and blew her nose. Meanwhile, Talula carefully sprayed out extra whipped cream in a perfect spiral onto the cocoa. It had probably gone cold, but Talula was too flustered by the sudden intimate moment to mention it.

“Thanks.” Dahlia’s eyes were a little red, but her dimples were back. “For telling me about my dad. It means a lot to hear about him. To find more pieces of him, even though he’s gone.”

“He’ll never really be gone.” Talula set the cocoa in front of Dahlia. “If you keep your eyes open, you’ll find more of him. In little ways.”

Dahlia’s gaze traced every inch of the café. “I’m starting to see that.”

Talula stared, an aching warmth filling her chest. The more she learned about Dahlia, the more Talula wanted to be around her, to make her cocoa and listen to her talk about everything and anything. She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of hearing what went on in Dahlia’s wonderful head. She shook herself, turning away before Dahlia could catch her in an infatuated stupor. Talula started to clean up, then saw that the Employees Only door was slightly ajar. She heard the horrifyingly familiar thump thump of fluffy feet against the floor.

“What the hell was that?” Dahlia asked.

A jackalope that can’t follow instructions! Talula thought, panicked. But out loud, she asked, “What was what?”

Thump thump.

“That!” Dahlia looked around, swiveling on her counter stool.

Talula quickly looked behind the counter area for the source of the sound. “It might be a rat?”

Thump thump, thump thump.

“Sounds like a big-ass rat,” Dahlia said.

“I’ll go check.” Talula zipped into the back area. The door to the basement was slightly open, where several pairs of black, curious eyes peered out at her. She got the distinct sense that the jackalopes had been eavesdropping.

“Go back!” Talula hissed with a shooing motion. “There’s a human here.”

Some of the jackalopes tilted their antlered heads. Talula groaned.

Dahlia called out, “I think it’s here! By the shelves!”

Talula rushed to her Voltlette and snatched up a head of lettuce. She addressed the jackalopes. “Do you want this?”