She selected a round piece, the shape reminiscent of a chocolate-covered cherry, and held it out to him.
He took it and popped it into his mouth whole.
Without warning, light illuminated the house as if it were a stage. Lightning flickered outside, followed by the crackle of thunder.
“Oh, God—not now,” said Erin, with pure dread in her voice. She closed the box and tucked it under her arm.
“What is it?”
Erin shook her head. “You’ll see.”
Another dream-Erin stormed into the room. “How could you do this to me? You said you loved me!”
Dream-Mark followed her. “I’m sorry, Erin. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“How can you even say that?”
“It just happened, okay?”
“Do I look stupid? Nothing ‘just happens,’ Mark. And with Genevieve? My best friend? For God’s sake!”
“Neither of us meant to hurt you.”
“That’s rich!”
Dream-Mark shrugged. “I don’t know what else to say to you.”
“Then just leave.”
He walked out the front door and disappeared into the flickering landscape outside the dream-house.
Dream-Erin seized the wedding album from its place on the coffee table and hurled it across the room. It smashed into the wall and bounced off, hitting the floor and tumbling over before coming to a stop with its pages askew. Dream-Erin collapsed to the ground and wept.
The dream-house and the dream-Erin faded into blackness.
Erin—the real Erin—woke up in her bed. She felt around for the box of chocolate, before realizing it didn’t actually exist. “Andy!”
He was already standing at the foot of the bed, gray wings spread, backlit by the faint light of the rising sun. The scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke filled the room. He moved to kneel beside the bed, where he extended one wing over her, part canopy, part blanket, and she buried her face in the soft feathers until her heart rate slowed and the morning light glowed just a little brighter.
Andy slowly lifted his wing. “Are you okay? Lucid dreaming can be intense.”
“I’m okay. I want my chocolate back, though.”
He chuckled in obvious relief. “That’s my Erin.” He folded his wings out of sight. “You need a good breakfast before we move your classroom boxes.” He tapped the tip of her nose with one warm finger.
“Yes, Mother.” Erin sat up with a contented sigh. She couldn’t help but luxuriate in his concern.
“So hop in the shower like a good mortal and I’ll rustle something up.”
“Yes, Mother,” she said, stifling a giggle.
“And if you call me Mother one more time, you’ll find out how I take revenge on foolish mortals who refuse to call me by my rightful name.”
“Yes, M—Andy.”
“Mandy?”
“Andy,” said Erin. “Andromalius, Great Earl of Hell, Discoverer of Wickedness.” She bowed to him with sarcastic panache.
“That’s more like it.”
She stood up and found Nancy Drew at her feet. “Great Earl of Blushing,” she called as she walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, Nancy trotting behind.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope.”
He followed her into the kitchen. “I stand by my suggestions. You can’t let all these wonderful ideas go to waste.” He gestured to the posters still covering the living room.
The poster titled “THINGS TO HIDE THAT WILL EVENTUALLY STINK” came unstuck on one side and swung loose to an off-kilter angle.
10
Erin, sensibly attired in comfortable clothes she didn’t mind getting dusty, shut her car door and joined Andy on the sidewalk bordering the school parking lot. She allowed herself one quick observation of his appearance.
Of course, it was only to make sure that he looked completely un-demon-like.
In the full light of the morning sun, he appeared quite normal. Anyone would take him for a regular guy, albeit a regular guy with impeccable grooming, remarkable eyes, and unselfconscious charisma.
Erin shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Let’s go,” she said.
They walked through the deserted hallways to Erin’s classroom. She unlocked the door and ushered Andy inside.
Andy looked around, taking in the posters on the wall and the assortment of dented desks in the center of the room. “Wow,” he said.
“It usually looks better than this,” she said.
“No, I like it,” he said.
“I had to take most of my stuff down already.”
He nodded. “Where do we start?”
“With these, I guess,” said Erin, pointing to the jumble of desktop computers, monitors, and cables piled on one of the large, sturdy tables.
Every load they placed on the rolling cart and transported to Erin’s new classroom reduced the furnishings in her old room until the only things remaining were large pieces, like storage cabinets and tables, that wouldn’t be moved. By lunchtime, the only task remaining was to remove the last posters from the walls.
“I like that you’re into posters, too,” said Andy, carefully unsticking the corners of the classroom rules poster.
“Comes with the territory,” said Erin.
“If I were a teacher, I would make so many posters.”
Erin laughed. “I bet you would. I bet there wouldn’t be a single square inch of wall space left.”
“And if the students acted up, I would make my eyes glow red to terrify them into being good.”
“Probably not the best approach.”
Andy went on, caught up in the fantasy of being a demon/teacher. “And everyone would ask me how I kept my class in line, and I would just smile mysteriously.”
Erin couldn’t help but smile at the mental picture of Andy trying to control a bunch of misbehaving children. “Sure. And when the principal asked you why the students ran screaming out of your class, you’d have a perfectly good explanation.”
Andy considered this. “Good point. Okay, no red eyes. How about giving the kids a stern lecture about the state of their souls?”
“That would not go over well.”
“Damn it,” said Andy. “I’m all out of options. Guess I’ll have to leave the teaching to the professionals.”