by Devon Monk
I laughed and wished I could see him better though the window. But he was pacing near the wall, and the angle of shadow and sun on the glass hid him from my view.
“Bertie wants you in the Show Off.”
“What?”
“She wants you in the talent show.”
“What?”
“Did I break you? She wants you to play piano as the closing act of the talent show.”
“What?” he sounded a little panicked this time. “Why?”
“She says there haven’t been enough entrants, and she wants your gorgeous face up there making people happy.”
“She said my face is gorgeous?”
“I might have extrapolated. But yes. It’s you she wants.”
“I don’t… I haven’t played piano in years.”
“Well, you have until tomorrow to practice.”
“That’s not going to be enough.”
“The armpit farter won last year, Ryder. It’s not exactly a high stakes sort of competition.”
“She wants me to embarrass myself, doesn’t she?”
“You can ask her.”
“No.”
“When you call her.”
“No.”
“And tell her you’re going to go on stage.”
“No.”
I let the silence stretch just a second or two. “Right. So that’s your other choice. Tell Bertie no.”
He groaned. “She’d kill me.”
“Maybe.”
“She’ll make me judge rhubarb contests.”
“Or there’s the mosquito round up thing I still don’t fully understand.”
“It’s a wetland tour with a rodeo theme. To explain the local wetlands.”
“That’s right. I think Jean is signed up for that one. I’m sure she’d be happy to swap places with you. Jean has this dance routine with a lamp and a pool noodle that everyone thinks is hilarious.”
“I know what you’re doing.”
“You can tell her no, Ryder. Honestly.” I meant that. Bertie might be pushy sometimes, but she was not a tyrant.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Call her and tell her that.”
“I will.”
And then we were both quiet, listening to the sound of breathing on the other end of our phones.
“I miss you,” I said, stupidly. I’d just been in bed with him a few hours ago. It was silly to miss him. But I thought that was more about the wedding stress, him throwing himself a hundred percent into the planning and management, and me running away from anything even remotely wedding related.
I’d been pulling away from the wedding, and in doing so had been pulling away from him.
“I miss you too,” he said simply.
“When is she leaving?”
“I’m pushing for tonight, if possible.”
“Good.”
Another second ticked by, and Piper glance over toward Ryder and nodded to Vivian. Obviously offering to go see where he had gotten off to.
“Do you want me to come into work today?” he asked.
“No. No. Take as long as you need to bore her and get her out of here. If you need help with that, let me know. I’ll find Than and tell him we need him to work a shift today.”
“Okay,” he said. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you tonight.”
“I love you,” I said.
“Love you too.” I heard the shush of his palm over his phone and could just make out him saying something to Piper that sounded like he would be right there.
I knew he was going to end the call. I knew he was going to go back to Vivian and spend the rest of the day explaining why all our manhole covers don’t match, or how rotted kelp could be harvested as bait, or all the tedious differences between a ROtring and a Staedtler pencil.
I knew he was going to go on with his day doing this job, looking after Ordinary just like I was going to go on with my day to do the same.
We’d see each other tonight.
But there was something about this good-bye that felt bigger. Felt more permanent.
I didn’t like it.
My heart was beating a little too fast, and my thoughts spun. I didn’t want Ryder to spend one more moment not knowing how much I really loved him and how much I wanted forever too.
“I want to get married,” I said.
There was a small pause. “Okay? You just said that a minute ago, remember?”
“I picked a date. I think we should do Friday.”
“A week from now?” He sounded a little panicked. “We don’t have the cheese. Think of the cheese.”
“No.” my mind was still racing, and so was my heart. But it was excitement instead of fear.
“Not a week from now. How about…” I tried to remember the dates Bertie had said the Community Center would be open, even though I didn’t know if we’d want the wedding held there. “How about September? Yeah, this September. The second Friday. Do you think we’d have enough time to get everything done? If I help? Really help this time?”
“I…” his voice went out on him, and he had to clear his throat. “Are you sure, Delaney? I know I said I was impatient, and if you want, I want. To wait. If you need time, I want to give you time.”
“I know. I do. But I don’t. Need more time. I’m ready.” I exhaled a laugh. “I’ll be ready. I want this, Ryder. You’re my forever.”
“Goddamnit, Delaney Reed. Now you tell me this?” he growled. “When I can’t kiss you stupid and drag you off to bed?”
“It’s like poetry, the words falling out of your mouth.”
“Delaney,” he groaned.
“I love you.”
I heard the exhale of his breath. “I love you too.”
“Good. ‘Cause we’re getting hitched, Mr. Bailey. Better stop insulting every cheese manufacturer in the state between now and September.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I expect great cheese. Only the best cheese.”
“Only the best,” he promised. “Gotta go.”
“Good luck boring her. Couldn’t think of a better man for the job.”
“Hey—”
I ended the call and grinned. My heart was still racing, my breath a little fast. Even my face felt flushed.
I was happy. I was ecstatic.
“I’m getting married,” I whispered to myself. Then I swiped my thumb over my phone and called on our very own god of death.
Chapter Nineteen
The phone rang and clicked over to a computerized voice that told me the mailbox was full. I wondered who could be calling Than so much his voice mail had filled up.
If we weren’t short-handed, if we weren’t in the middle of a show about to go on, if we didn’t have a ghoul and a monster hunter and stolen god weapons messing with our groove, I wouldn’t have followed through.
But all those things were happening and we were a small department. Even though Than technically had today off, I needed him on the job.
So I drove to his house, a pretty blue cottage with a white picket fence and a lot of windows that looked over the ocean.
He wasn’t there. I knocked, rang the bell, and even peeked in the windows. I tried his phone again, got shuffled to the full mailbox.
Time to try his kite shop.
The good weather drew in the tourists, and traffic was picking up. Bertie would be happy because more people would see the Show Off was going to happen tomorrow and might decide to stay in town for it.
If Than had any kind of business sense, he’d be at the Tailwinds selling the heck out of all those brightly colored wings.
I pulled up next to the shop with the sign painted in a blood red font that looked like a particularly murderous clown had gone to town on it.
The open sign in the door was visible, and the door itself was propped open with a very small stone owl with golden eyes that twinkled in the light.
The owl was new. I stepped past it and into the shop.
; The little building was pleasantly cluttered with layers of kites on the ceiling. All of them, if you looked from just the right angle, told a story of hunt and hide, of the wind moving through the natural universe around it.
Which is to say it looked like a craft bazaar had rolled around in neon paint, and exploded into kites of every shape, size, animal, and object you could imagine.
A man and two kids were browsing, the kids looking up at the ceiling with something like awe on their faces. A pre-teen girl was crouched in the corner, digging through a box of what looked like spools of string wound around wooden bobbins.
Behind the counter with its old-fashioned, manual cash register and much more modern card reader, was Death himself.
He had, of course, watched me walk in, his eyes just as twinkly as the little owl at the door.
Those twinkly eyes took me in, from my windbreaker and uniform shirt to my jeans and sneakers. Then he raised an eyebrow.
I grinned. I was happy to see him. I was also still buzzing from the high of finally picking a wedding date.
I didn’t know if he could see that on me, that happiness, that joy, but his eyebrows went back to where they belonged and he brought a very delicate tea cup, which Myra had probably given him, to his lips and sipped.
I strolled over to the counter. “Hey, there. Done with your walk early?”
“I finished at exactly the expected time.”
“I need you to come into work today.”
His gaze lifted past me to take in his shop. “I have done so, as you can see.”
“I mean the department. We’re short-handed.”
“Oh?”
“Things are busier than normal.”
He sipped tea.
“Much busier.”
“In what way?”
I wasn’t going to blurt out all of our problems with humans in the room so instead I took out the little notebook I kept on me, stole one of the three pens he had carefully displayed in a small fish-shaped vase, and wrote:
ghoul in town, monster hunter in town, god weapons stolen, mauve really brings out your complexion.
And oh, the look he gave me after reading that last bit. I just smiled with all my teeth.
“As you can see there’s a lot of police business we need to attend to. Ryder’s dealing with number two on that list, so I need you to help out with the other items.”
“This,” he said archly plucking the Hawaiian shirt away from his chest. “Is mauve and lime green.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I know. I didn’t want to point that out.”
Both eyebrows rose this time, but the mouth was a straight line. “Point out what, Reed Daughter?”
“Delaney,” I said. The bell over the door rang as the dad and kids left the shop. “Mauve is the worst color in the world.”
“And yet it brings out my complexion?”
“Did I say that?”
He turned the paper so it faced me.
“Huh,” I said, making a big deal out of leaning forward and reading the list. “Look at that.”
The girl in the corner came up to the counter and positioned herself behind me. “Oh, you can go ahead,” I said. “I’m not buying anything.”
“For that comment,” Than said, “yes, you are.”
I stepped to one side so the girl could put the wooden bobbins of string on the counter.
Than looked down at the two she had chosen. “These are a very fine choice,” he said. There was something so overwhelmingly kind in his voice, I actually took a moment to really study him.
Than was thin, sallow, his hair combed very carefully into place. Yes, he wore a Hawaiian shirt that looked like sadness and abandoned dreams, but it was neatly pressed and starched within an inch of its life. Behind the counter I expected he was wearing wool trousers and shiny leather shoes because he was classy that way.
He punched the keys on the big clunky cash register and made it ding. “I see. There is a sale. Both of these for only the cost of one. Today only.”
“Awesome,” the girl breathed. “Can I get two more?”
“If you wish.”
She scampered off and he made a big show of drawing out a bright red paper bag, and wrapping thin white paper around each bobbin before placing them in the bag.
“Sale,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Just those bobbins?”
“Spools.”
“Just those spools of string?” I asked.
“Yes.” His gaze flicked up to me, and the look he gave me was not nearly as warm as it had been for the girl. “You doubt my ability to peddle my wares?”
“Nope,” I said, leaning one elbow on the counter and staring out the windows. “I just didn’t notice any sale sign by the spools.”
He hummed.
“Why do you suppose I didn’t see any sale signs by the spools, Than?”
“It may have fallen to the floor.”
“Really? May it have?”
He didn’t smile, because Than wasn’t much of a smiler on the outside. But on the inside I knew he liked it when I teased him.
Or at least he tolerated it.
The girl was back again. Than went through punching the keys on the register, and came up with the new price. Four for the price of free.
The girl looked thrilled. “They’re for my friends,” she said, bouncing on the toes of her feet.
“Are they?” he asked, as he wrapped another spool.
“We found some old kites but need better string. Geo got his stuck in a tree, and I climbed up and got it for him. The string broke.”
“I see.” He wrapped the second spool, eyes on his work, but listening to the girl. Hearing, I thought, more than just her words. Hearing, I thought, what I heard.
There either wasn’t enough money or there wasn’t enough time for her and her friends to have new kites. They were making do with hand-me-downs, and thrilled to have them.
Than dropped one spool, two spools into the bag with the others.
Then a thought came to me. “Where did you find the old kites?”
Than stopped, his hand absolutely still over the open mouth of the red bag. His eyes ticked up to me, held.
It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
“Oh, out on the beach,” she said. “Some were stuck behind rocks. One was just hanging from a tree. Right where we play every day. And they’re good kites except for the string we lost.”
“Really?” I said. “Did you hear that, Than? There were perfectly good kites scattered out there where the children were playing.”
“Fascinating,” he intoned.
“Just such a coincidence the kites were left out there after you’d been out on your walkabout. Isn’t that a coincidence?”
“There you are,” he said to the girl, completely ignoring me. “Have a good day.” He folded the top of the bag over once, ran one boney finger along the fold and pushed it gently toward the girl.
She left the shop with a big smile on her face and was already digging through the bag before she’d even cleared the threshold.
“She’s happy,” I said.
Than moved past me to turn the sign over to Closed. “Kites are something to be happy about,” he observed.
“You could have just talked to Bertie.”
“About?”
“Wanting to donate kites to kids.”
He moved past me, and I caught a hint of his cologne, or maybe it was his soap. Something with rosemary and just the slightest hint of jasmine and honey. It seemed like a strange combination, but on him, it was wonderful.
“I am sure I do not know what you are speaking of.”
“The coincidence of all those kites showing up right when you were out on your stroll.” I nodded toward the window where the girl was already surrounded by three other kids about her age, handing one paper wrapped treasure to each of them.
“Ah,” he said, gliding toward the back of the shop where I knew he had a little room with su
pplies and also a fine selection of tea and reading material. “Some mysteries may forever remain mysteries.”
He was through the door then, out of sight. I didn’t know if he was activating alarms or just setting the shop to rights for the day. Maybe he kept his reserve uniform back there.
“Have you heard of Vivian Dunn?” I asked.
“I received a message from the Valkyrie about her.”
“Ryder’s trying to drive her out of town via boredom. I’m not sure it’s going to work. She seems…set on something. Like she’s caught a scent and isn’t going to give up on it.”
“She is a hunter. It is their way.”
“There are so many things she could find here. So many people.” I leaned against the counter and stared out the windows as the girl and her friends ran off toward the beach. A few people were walking this stretch of sidewalk, tourists, mostly.
“Crow thinks the gods’ weapons were stolen using a page out of the spell book of the gods.”
He stopped making noise for a moment. “That is interesting,” he admitted. “I haven’t heard of it for some time.”
“Yeah, I get the feeling no one’s been keeping track of it.”
He made a sound that might have been agreement, and I was sure I heard the thunk of shoes placed on a mat, then the hissing rasp of laces being tied.
“Changing into those nifty shorts again?”
“I do not own shorts.” Oh, the disdain.
“You say that, but I saw you in them yesterday. And those socks.”
“I do not know what you are speaking of.”
“Oh, I think you do.”
He made a noise that sounded like he disagreed.
“Bertie’s looking for a few people for the Ordinary Show Off.”
“The show of talent?”
“Mostly it’s an excuse to get out, enjoy the weather, and laugh at your neighbor.”
“It sounds delightful.”
“Really?”
“No.”
I smiled at that and crossed my arms over my chest. “There’s a ghoul hiding out in town. It could be anyone.”
He was silent.
“Do you know anything about ghouls? I know they’re not exactly living or dead, so I don’t know how much contact you’d have with them. If Xtelle is to be believed, they’re super nice and neighborly with demons.”
He still didn’t say anything.
