“Oh! Yeah, go ahead. Keep indulging the fantasy,” he coaxed.
“Well.” Sally frowned and nibbled on her lower lip. “I guess that’s possible.”
“If they’re alive, they’ll come for you. Right? You don’t have to run. In fact, how will they find you if you’re in the wind? Stay put,” she coaxed. “Let the system take over, at least temporarily. Let them come to you.”
“…maaaaaybe.”
“Great!” Ox was on his feet. “Excellent plan.”
Not really. But it would suit in the short-term. Even better, it would empty her house. She had a box of eyes to polish and an herb garden to plant and it wouldn’t hurt to test all the smoke alarms again and she really should get around to having babies one of these days. Or this month. Sure, because then she wouldn’t be too big during the hot summer months or during the worst part of winter. An autumn baby. Which was perfect, because she loved autumn. Maybe she’d even.
Um.
Name it. Autumn?
“Yes? We’re all in agreement?” He looked around the room as if Lila actually had a vote. “So that’s settled.”
“Okay, but I’m not waitin’ around too long,” Sally warned. Lila doubted the man was listening; he seemed to be all about short-term solutions.
“Great, good. C’mon, honey, we’ve imposed on Lila long enough.”
That, she thought, was true yesterday. And they’re still not out the door. Though the signs of departure look promising. Also, I might be having a series of small strokes.
“Thanks for the pizza,” Sally said, her small hand swallowed in Ox’s much larger one. “And for listening to me.”
“Sure.” Lila couldn’t think of anything to thank Sally for, so she kept quiet.
“You’re the first one of your kind I’ve spent any real time with.”
“Okay.”
“I can’t wait to tell my folks!” the child added. “They’ll be so surprised.”
“Okay.”
“Great seeing you again,” Ox added.
“It was?”
“Yeah, it was. Don’t forget to put your gun up.”
Lila snorted. Might as well tell her not to forget to breathe.
“Listen, Lila, maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Don’t threaten me,” she warned.
“That wasn’t—do you think you’d want to get coff—never mind.”
“Wait! What? Were you about to—” What was she doing? They were leaving! She must not hinder the leaving! “Never mind.”
“Right. Exactly.” He nodded. “I’m on the clock. So.”
And then they were gone, not quite as abruptly as they came.
Chapter 10
At the sharp knock, Lila stopped unpacking and went to the door. “It’s upon a midnight dreary,” she said to the peephole. “So of course there’s someone gently rapping at my chamber door.”
From her porch: “It’s Oz. From before? Oz Adway?”
Thank goodness he clarified, or she might have gotten him mixed up with the other Oz who’d broken in. She ignored the way her pulse picked up and opened the door. “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.”
He waved like a dork. “Hi!”
“Only this and nothing more.”
“Poe?” he guessed.
“Had to memorize the whole thing for speech class my senior year. No matter how much I drink, I can’t dislodge it. You can’t come in.”
He froze halfway across the threshold. “No?”
“It’s midnight and you’re a bumbling B&E guy I barely know. Of course ‘no.’”
“Fair.” The foot that had gotten halfway into her house retreated. “I just wanted to check on you.”
She ignored the spark of pleasure his words ignited. “At midnight.”
“Your light was on.”
So he was watching her house now? Why am I not more alarmed? I should be more alarmed. “Well, you’ve checked.” She bit her tongue before she could throw (more) caution to the wind and invite him in for a drink. Assuming she could find the box of booze. Perhaps he’d like to come in for tea. If she could find the box of tea.
“I just… I know it’s been a long day.” He shifted his weight from one foot to another, looked over her shoulder, looked behind him, looked at the floor. “I knew you’d want to know Sally was safe at IPA. And I was in the neighborhood. So.”
She raised her eyebrows. She did want to know Sally was safe, but she didn’t care for the presumption. “Too bad no one has invented anything that would allow you to pass on news without knocking on my door at midnight. Well, someone will probably think of something. Until then, all we can hope for is a brighter future with cutting edge tech that precludes pop-ins.”
He was scrubbing a hand through his short hair, which definitely didn’t make her itch to see if the hairs at his nape were as soft as she thought they must be. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. This was a bad—sorry.”
“Do you want to c—ow!”
He leaned forward, clear concern on his face, but respected the threshold, so he looked like he was bowing. “Are you okay?”
“Nit my tongue. Bit my tongue, I meant. Why are you really here?”
Seconds crawled by while she waited for an answer, and Lila found she was holding her breath. When he finally spoke
“I don’t know.”
she was surprised by her lack of surprise. Was that disappointment she felt? Or relief? Or a new emotion as yet unnamed and unknown? “I guess you’d better go, then,” she said and preemptively bit her tongue.
He looked at her for a long time, or so it seemed to her. And when he finally spoke, she thought he sounded almost regretful. “Good night, Lila.”
“’Night.”
He didn’t look back as he ambled into the darkness (the neighborhood was seriously lacking in street lights). She knew, because she watched until she couldn’t see him anymore.
* * *
Oh, oh, oh…hello, darling. Come to Daddy. All that whipped cream, those sexy chocolate curls, there it was, just waiting to be devoured. He hoped there were clean forks, because either way, the pie was going down.