“Iced tea,” I said and looked at Dawn. “Make it sweet as Debbie Gibson sharing Pixy Stix with an Ewok.”
“Well played,” Dawn said. “If we were twelve. Your powers are weak, old man.”
I shrugged. “You can’t win, Dawn. If you strike me down, I shall become more eloquent than you can possibly imagine.”
“Maybe I should strike you down, then, so you don’t bore me during the dinner conversation.”
“Ouch.”
The waitress appeared unamused. She turned to Pete. “Did you want anything, sir?”
Pete looked between me and Dawn. “Um, can I have a vanilla milkshake, and make it as vanilla as vanilla ice cream in a vanilla envelope?”
I exchanged smiles with Dawn and slapped Pete lightly on the arm. “Good one, bro.”
“Damn,” Dawn said. “I wish they really would make vanilla envelopes. Stamps too. I swear I can still taste the horse in whatever glue they use.”
Petey beamed proudly.
The waitress had already inched several steps from the table. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.” She didn’t sound excited at the prospect. As she walked away, I realized she hadn’t even left us with menus and appeared to be ignoring the attempts of the family in the corner to get her attention. She was either new or just a really lousy waitress.
“So,” Dawn said, slamming her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands. “I’ll start, and you finish. Once upon a time, my best friend disappeared on me, and everyone in his family acted all weird every time I asked about it, saying he had, like, a breakdown and needed to go live with one of his uncles. Now, since this friend of mine had never said much good about his uncles, I found this pretty hard to believe. But what really sucked Donkey Kong was that he didn’t even bother to say good-bye, or write, or call, or anything. Then one day he shows up, acting like nothing’s changed in over twenty years, with a wonderful explanation that goes like…?”
“I had amnesia.”
“Sure. And I’m Dawn’s evil twin, pregnant with the child of the power-hungry mayor.”
“No, really. I lost all memory of who I was. They said it was a reaction to finding Felicity dead. Then, a few days ago, I remembered my past. It was like waking up. Except now I can’t remember anything from the past twenty-five years.”
“Come on, seriously? That’s the story you’re going with?”
“It’s the truth.”
“Pete?” Dawn asked.
Pete fretted with his cloth napkin and glanced up at me sideways. “Yeah, it’s true.”
Dawn watched Pete for a second, then smiled at me. “Well, damn. That’s rough, man. But I won’t have to beat you up for being a jerk, so, you know, that’s good. Huh, I guess this means you don’t know if you’re married, or have a girlfriend, or maybe a boyfriend?”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t have any of those,” I said.
“I don’t know. Twenty-five years, surely Other You dated. For all you know, you have a raging case of herpes right now, and a meth-head of a girlfriend waiting somewhere with your five juvenile delinquent offspring.”
“I don’t have herpes!” I realized I’d said that rather loud, and I glanced at the dining family. The parents looked away from our table. Great. I couldn’t tell if Dawn was testing me, or teasing me, or honestly curious, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I was trapped by my own lie, and would just have to take it.
“How do you know you’re not all sexually diseasified?” she asked. “Did you get a medical exam in the last few days?”
“No. I just know, okay?”
“Come to think of it, my friend Dallas said he saw someone who looked just like you turning tricks over in Bremerton for drug money. You’re not feeling crack withdrawals or anything, are you?”
“Gods, Dawn, I said I lost my memory, not my brains.”
“Okay. Well, amnesia, that’s pretty tricky stuff. Best to be sure. So I’m guessing if you think you’re still, what, fifteen, sixteen years old—”
“I don’t think I’m fifteen, Dawn. I know I’m older now, I just can’t remember anything that happened since I was fifteen.”
“Still, I’m guessing you’re wanting to pretty much pick up where you left off? Well, FYI, Heather is a forty-year-old divorced teacher now. If you’re still going to act all stupid over her, it would be like having a crush on Ms. Fabbershaw, our old English teacher. Just sayin’.”
The waitress brought our drinks. “Menus?” I asked, grateful for the interruption. The waitress grunted something and left.
“So, uh, Dawn, I just wanted to say thanks for being such a good friend to Petey all these years. And I was hoping maybe you could help him out.”
“How’s that?” Dawn asked.
“Well, he’s asked me to help him find a girlfriend. But with my memory issue and all, I’m not sure I’d be much help. So I was thinking, maybe you could, like, coach him. Help him pick out a good wardrobe, teach him the right way to talk with a girl so she’ll like him, maybe how to dance or cook or something?” The montage played in my head. This always worked in the movies—she would help him become the perfect date, and they would have lots of fun and laughs doing so, and then the first time he actually went out with someone she’d realize that he was her perfect date. ’Twas a good plan.
So why did it make me unhappy to picture it working?
Pete didn’t look too comfortable about it either. He had a good blush going.
Dawn snorted. That, and loud burps, were two of her trademark noises. “You have the wrong lady, and the wrong plan, my friend. It’s not like there’s a lot of competition in the nice single guy department ’round these parts. Pete’ll find the right girl just being himself. I wouldn’t want to screw that up the way I’ve screwed up my own love life. Besides, I’m more interested in your dating plans.”
“What? Dating plans? Why?”
“Look, Finn. Here’s the thing. I know we need to get to know each other again, and we’ve both changed and all, but I don’t want to play the stupid game we did before, like some fricking teenage romantic comedy. So let’s just get to the part where you realize I’m some kind of wonderful and ask me out already.”
“What?” Pete and I said together.
Dawn took a long, long drink of her Bloody Mary, and burped into her napkin.
“Okay,” she said. “Here goes. I know you like me. Or at least you did. And I’m way more awesome now than I was then. Well, okay, I’m a mess in a lot of ways, but mostly in fun ways, or ways that shouldn’t change how you feel. I’m not saying let’s just jump into bed or anything here. I’m just saying you should ask me out. For reals. Now.”
“Wow. Dawn, I—”
“Hey, guys,” Heather said as she approached the table. “Sorry I’m late. I wasn’t sure I could make it.”
Dawn stared at Heather a second, then looked up at the ceiling. “Are you frickin’ kidding me?”
16
Love Plus One
Heather looked between me and Dawn. “Is everything okay?”
She looked amazing, wearing an asymmetrical black dress that exposed a left leg covered in lacy stocking. Her hair was up in some kind of fancy bun with jeweled pins that matched her jeweled black glasses, reflecting candlelight from the tables and the gold evening light coming in through the restaurant’s windows.
I could feel Dawn’s eyes on me, and hoped the heat radiating from my neck and ears didn’t compete with the evening sunlight. “Everything’s fine,” I said.
“Dawn just—” Pete began.
I felt the swift passage of Dawn’s foot on the way to Pete’s shin. He jumped, and she said, “Finn, is there anything you wanted to say?”
I looked between Dawn and Heather. “Uh, I don’t know. I think I need to, ah, think about what you said.”
Dawn gave me a sad look. Heather took the empty chair, and said, “You’re sure I’m not interrupting?”
“It’s fine,” Dawn said. “
Finn probably won’t remember anything tomorrow anyway. He has amnesia.”
“Had amnesia,” I said.
“Amnesia?” Heather raised her eyebrows. “Really? You mean you weren’t shipwrecked on a deserted island? Or maybe abducted by aliens?”
“I know, right?” Dawn said.
I gave Heather a tight smile, and said while barely moving my lips, “Not helping.”
“So, Heather.” Dawn played with her butter knife on the table. “How’s your kid? Seems like a while since I’ve heard talk of him being arrested for anything.”
Heather’s eyes narrowed at Dawn, then she smiled at me. “Orion’s twenty now, and he’s doing well. He just needed to find his purpose in the world, something bigger than himself and his immediate wants. That’s a struggle Dawn can probably relate to, right, Dawn?”
“Oh,” I said, hoping to steer the conversation onto a less rocky path. “What does he—”
“Wow, twenty,” Dawn said over me. “It must be weird to have a kid who’s the same age you were when you had him, huh? But I guess the nice thing about having them young is you can still have a life after they move out, right?”
“Actually—” Heather began.
“You know, Finn,” Dawn continued, “you’d have been amazed to see Heather back in the day. She really came out of her shell after high school. I don’t think I played a single gig where I didn’t see her dancing with some new guy—”
“That’s right,” Heather said. “I forgot you were going to be a musician.”
“I am a musician.”
Petey nodded. “She’s really good.”
“Of course,” Heather said. “Sorry. I meant like a musician who makes money. Didn’t you run off with that boyfriend of yours to do the homeless thing for a while? What was his name?”
“Phoenix. And we weren’t homeless.” Dawn looked at me. “We were exploring the world, you know? We worked our way from small town to small town, and I’d play music and he’d do his art. It was a better education than any college could’ve given me, that’s for sure.”
“Wow,” I said. “That sounds great. I always wanted to—”
“He made things out of garbage, right?” Heather asked. “I always thought that was brave of you, supporting him all those years while he tried to make that art thing work. Whatever happened to him?”
Dawn looked at Heather in silence a minute, then said, “He left because he didn’t want to deal with my father’s on-again, off-again cancer, or how it affected me. He certainly didn’t want to help with the medical bills.”
Heather winced. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Having Petey to talk with every night really helped me get through,” she said, and patted him on the arm. “That, and my music of course.” She looked at me. “I’m in a pretty good place now. Content. Even happy most days. Lonely sometimes, but happy. Now if you’ll excuse me.” She stood up. “I just realized I have to get ready for a gig tonight.”
“Really,” Heather said. “You don’t need to leave—”
“I know I don’t. I’m choosing to leave. Petey, didn’t you say you’d drive me home?”
“I did?” Petey asked, then caught Dawn’s gaze and said, “I mean, yes, I did.” He looked mournfully at the milkshake as he stood.
Dawn nodded at Heather. “Lovely to see you.”
“You too,” Heather said, and put a hand over mine on the table.
“Later, neighbor,” Dawn said to me. “Come on, Petey.”
She walked off, and Pete looked at me. “Uh, do you need me to come back later or something?”
“No, I can walk.”
“Or I can drive him home,” Heather said.
Pete looked between Heather and Dawn, and I could see the unhappiness roiling across his face. Then he followed after Dawn.
“Well,” Heather said. “I take it setting up Pete and Dawn didn’t go so well?”
“Uh, no, not exactly. What’s up with you two? Did she bully you in high school after I left or something?”
“No. We just have our … differences. A lot of folks in town have their differences with me, in fact. I’m sorry if it ruined your dinner. May I?” she asked, pointing at an untouched glass of ice water. I nodded. “So, amnesia, huh?” She took a sip.
“Give me a break. You know it’s not easy hiding things from mundies sometimes, especially the ones close to you.”
“That’s true.” Heather sighed. “I guess that’s why so few arcanas end up dating mundies. I have something for you, by the way.” She dug in her bag and pulled out my old Walkman. “You did just lend it to me, after all.”
A grin stretched my face as I took the Walkman and popped it open. Inside was the tape I’d made for Heather, under the excuse that her parents only listened to Country-Western and she needed an education in good music.
But of course, that wasn’t the real reason for the tape. Creating a mixed tape to reveal your love to a girl (or a boy, I’m sure) is a ritual every bit as complex, delicate, and potentially dangerous as summoning a powerful Elder Spirit. The choice of songs must find that balance between letting her know how you feel and still being able to claim that the tape was just a friendly gesture should she reject that feeling. You can’t be too obvious, so no more than one fourth of the songs should have the word “Love” in the title, if any. And it’s good to throw in a couple of “plausible deniability” songs that have nothing to do with love, and support your ability to claim “Oh, yeah, I totally just want to be friends too” should the worst happen—yet those songs should still somehow show that you understand her like no other boy ever could.
I remembered every song on the tape, having relived its creation many times. “Broken Wings” was one of my plausible deniability songs. So were “We’re Not Gonna Take It” and “When Doves Cry.” The other songs, however, were all about the loves. “Time After Time,” “Love Cats,” “Hello,” “Running Up That Hill,” “Take On Me,” “I Just Called to Say I Love You,” You Shook Me All Night Long, “Your Love Is King,” and of course “I Melt With You.”
“Thanks,” I said. “This is awesome. So you enjoyed the tape?”
She laughed. “Yeah. Wow, it’s weird, talking about it like nothing’s happened since you gave it to me.” Her smile faded. “But, you know, a lot has happened. A lot has changed. I’ve changed.”
“I know.”
“You really don’t. But, in a way, I kind of like that.” Heather gazed out at the water as a sailboat floated by. “I like that you look at me as if I’m still that girl who didn’t know The Cure from The Clash. That hadn’t made the choices I’ve made, the mistakes. It makes me feel like a good person. And I honestly haven’t felt that way in a long time.” She looked at me again. “You know, I really was sorry my father interrupted us that last day. I’d been waiting for you to kiss me for weeks.”
That made me think of Dawn’s words, about not playing the same stupid teenage games this time. And thinking of Dawn caused all kinds of confusing feelings to swirl through my head and chest.
No. I wasn’t going to mess this up with too much thinking again. I leaned in to kiss Heather.
She pulled back.
“Shit! I’m sorry,” I said. “I know you said we weren’t dating, but I thought—sorry.” I was suddenly aware that the family in the corner had gone silent. Way to make us the center of attention, Finn.
“No,” Heather said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just—maybe this was all a mistake. We really don’t know each other, not anymore. And if you did know me now—I mean, this is crazy. But when I saw you this morning, it made me think about everything that’s happened, made me remember who I was when you knew me, and—” She looked out the window for a second and wiped at her eyes. “What say we order some food, and you can tell me what the Other Realm was like?”
“Uh, if it’s okay, I’d rather not. There’s not much to tell anyway, just me reliving memories. I’d rather hear about you. Like h
ow you got out from under the ARC controlling your life?”
My question was more than just curiosity. I hoped that such a life was possible.
“Luck,” Heather said, looking down at the glass of water. “I just picked the right customers, people with influence. They keep the ARC off my back. Can we not talk about me though? I just want to forget me for tonight. How about we talk about the good old days, huh?” She looked toward the kitchen. “And where’s the waiter?”
“I don’t know. I think she’s new or something.” I bent to finally take a sip of my iced tea. Heather sucked in her breath, and knocked the glass away from me. It splashed across the table.
“What the heck?” I said, scooting back and standing to avoid the tea streaming off the edge of the table.
Heather stood up, looking around the restaurant, and whispered, “There was a witch’s brew in it!”
Goose bumps sprang up on my arms. “Are you sure? How could you tell?”
Heather tapped her glasses. “Alchemy specs. I think maybe we should leave.”
This was crazy. Who would attack me while mundies were around? I looked over at the family and realized they were sitting, eyes open, but just staring as if in a trance.
“I think maybe hell yes. Let’s go.”
I led the way down the stairs, then stopped. The narrow passage to the front door was blocked by the waitress and a hulking blond man with a bad bowl cut—the man who’d been lurking in a car outside the house last night. And seeing his features beside the waitress’s, I realized who she reminded me of: Felicity. The red hair had thrown me off.
They were Król witches.
I grabbed Heather’s arm, swung her around the banister and headed down into the basement level. Heather threw something down behind us, and blue flames spread across the stairs.
“You’re going to burn the whole place down!” I said.
“It’s witchfire. It only burns blood magic.”
“Oh. Clever.” If the Król wonder twins up there tried to pass through it, the magic inside them would burn, but nothing else would. I wondered briefly why Heather ran around with a vial of witchfire in her purse, but I had more important matters to worry about at the moment, like escaping crazed Germanic witches.
Finn Fancy Necromancy Page 18
