“I know it is,” I said, barely able to find my voice. I wanted to say more, but there was nothing else to say. Our life was what it was. Words of comfort wouldn’t change anything, and words of love would only make the chasm between us harder to tolerate.
“Drive, Kate,” David said, sliding out from under me. “That life you have needs you.”
“David,” I said, stung by his harsh tone.
“I’m sorry.” He strapped himself back into the passenger seat and held up his hands. “Honestly. I’m sorry. But like I said—it’s hard.”
I bit back a retort. He already knew it was hard for me, too, and we’d been over that ground ad nauseam. The bottom line was that he was right. At the moment, a looming dinner party took precedence over any domestic problems I might be having with my first husband.
“About that,” I said. “I kind of need a little favor.”
“Oh?”
“Casual dinner party. Political chitchat. Not the kind of thing you want interrupted by stray body parts.”
“And you’re worried about body parts because?”
“I had a visitor right after you called. And since I was in a hurry to get to you, I more or less dumped the parts in the oven.”
His mouth twitched. “More or less?”
“Okay. More.”
“Frankly, this changes my whole perspective.”
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, suspicious. “What?”
“Your dinner party,” he said. “I’m thinking I’d just as soon avoid a dinner where the food’s been cooked up close and personal with body parts.”
“Hmmmph,” I retorted. “I’ll have you know that is absolutely not the case. Gelson’s is cooking, not me.”
He laughed. “Now
that
is the Kate I remember. And here I thought old Stuart had domesticated you.”
“Not a chance,” I said, fighting my own smile.
We swung by his apartment so he could get his car, then headed in convoy formation to my house, arriving right as Eddie and Allie were coming up the sidewalk. Allie picked up her pace, then flung herself into David’s arms the moment he stepped out of the car.
I cringed as I unstrapped Timmy from the car seat, then glanced around to see if any of our neighbors were watching— especially neighbors with high school students who knew full well that David was the chemistry teacher and not the uncle I was so tempted to fabricate.
“Come on, guys,” I said, putting my sleepy son down on the driveway. I waved my hands to herd the crowd toward the door. “Let’s get inside and you can tell us what you learned.”
Allie pulled away with a frown. “Nothing,” she said. “All sorts of stuff about Abaddon, but nothing we didn’t already know. He has a history of seeking an invincible form on this earth. Never achieved it—duh. Tends to forge alliances with other demons, which I guess is kinda rare.”
“Demons aren’t exactly buddy-buddy types,” David acknowledged. “So that’s something.”
“Except here, his allegiances are all lower demons or animated body parts. Good information,” I told Allie. “But not—”
“The answer. Yeah. I know. It sucks.”
Eddie snorted. “Gal seems to think she’s gonna find all the answers in one trip to the library.”
“Doesn’t work that way, kiddo,” David said, swinging his arm around her shoulder even as he hoisted Timmy up on his hip. “Wish it did.”
“Did you used to do lots of research?”
“Are you kidding? Why do you think the library has all those books? Your mom liked to jump in and kick some butt. Me, I’d step back and learn all the facts first.”
“Oh, thanks a lot,” I said, unlocking the front door and pushing it open for the troops. “You make me sound like Lara Croft or something.”
“No way, Mom,” Allie said. “She always did
tons
of research first.”
I grimaced as they passed, biting back a smile when David winked at me.
“Oh, hell.” I stared at the foyer—a complete and total disaster after my battle with my untimely zombie friend. “No, no, no,” I said. “This isn’t good. I have people coming in exactly”—I consulted my watch—“two hours and thirteen minutes. A messy house is simply
not
part of my game plan.”
David and Allie shared a look. “She overreacts sometimes,” my loyal daughter said.
“I know,” he assured her.
“Overreacts?” I repeated, indicating the mess. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a knocked-over table, Mom. I think we can handle it.”
“Maybe,” I said grudgingly. “But the living room still needs to be vacuumed and dusted, and the dining room table needs to be set. Not to mention the food that needs to be prepared—”
“I thought you went to Gelson’s,” David put in.
I shot him a look through narrowed eyes. “It still needs preparation,” I said, and he held up his hands in surrender.
“What do you say, troops?” he asked, jostling Timmy. “Shall we help Mommy not have a nervous breakdown?”
“Yeah, yeah!” Timmy said.
“I guess,” said Allie.
“Hell no,” said Eddie. “I didn’t make the mess. I’m gonna go watch
Cops
.”
“Gramps is like that,” Allie announced to Eric. “But I guess you already knew that if he’s your great-grandfather, right?”
“It’s amazing what I don’t know about my own family,” David said, without missing a beat. I made a mental note to later ask him if I’d ever bothered to tell him I’d set Eddie up as his curmudgeonly great-grandpa. The lie might not hold, but now wasn’t the time to confess all.
“Foyer,” I said, pointing to David. “See if you can get the drawer back in the table, and if you can’t, turn it so the gaping hole faces the wall and shove everything from the drawer into the hall closet.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” he said, saluting and making Allie laugh.
“You,” I said, pointing to her. “Pledge and a dustrag.”
She saluted as well and went to work in the living room. I gave Timmy the Swiffer mop and let him dust the hardwood floor. Miraculously, no one complained. I should invite David over to do housework more often.
“It’s a stupid prophecy,” Allie announced, after she’d tackled most of the wooden surfaces in the living area. “If Abaddon thinks you can kill him, then all he has to do is never become corporeal.”
I had to smile. Never in all her younger years had I anticipated a conversation with my daughter about the corporeal or noncorporeal nature of a demon. “Of if he does,” she continues, “he should stay away from you. Like go to Alaska or something.”
“The truth is, though, that we haven’t heard the actual prophecy,” I pointed out. “If we ever manage to track that down, maybe we’ll have a better understanding.”
“Maybe,” she said, sounding dubious. She looked around the living room, then held up her dustrag. “So what now?”
“Actually, it’s looking pretty good,” I admitted, amazed we’d pulled the room together so fast.
“So we’re done?” Allie asked.
“I think so.”
“Why doesn’t Allie come home with me,” David said, ignoring the way I turned and gaped openmouthed at him. “That way she’ll be out of your hair for the party, but you’ll know she’s safe.”
“
Yes!
” Allie screamed, jumping into one of her cheerleader routines. “I am
so
there!”
She turned and raced up the stairs, her little brother following at her heels. I waited until her footsteps faded and then grabbed David’s elbow and tugged him closer. “What are you doing?” I asked. “We talked about this. Twice, in fact.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. We can call her back down and tell her no.”
I started to say that we absolutely would do that, but I couldn’t get the words out. “I can’t do that now,” I said. “The cat’s out of the bag. Tell her no now, and she’ll be morbidly depressed for the next century.”
“I really am sorry,” he said, but his expression didn’t match the words. “I didn’t think.”
“No,” I agreed. “You didn’t.” I drew in a breath, forcing myself to calm down. It was only fair that Eric got to spend time with Allie and vice versa. I knew it, and I wanted it. Truly.
What I
didn’t
want was the situation thrust on me when I was unprepared. Too late for that now, though, and as long as I had an explanation made up by the time Stuart go home, I supposed I’d survive.
Surviving, after all, was what I did best.
Eighteen
With Eddie asleep in the
recliner and Timmy plugged in to
Curious George
, I dove into party prep mode, my intensity fueled in large part by my frustration level.
Trust
.
David knew I hadn’t made a decision about Allie staying with him, and yet he’d deliberately raised the issue in front of her. Yes, I understood he desperately wanted to spend time with his daughter, but he’d blindsided me. And it wasn’t the first time.
Irritated, I crunched up a wad of foil and hurled it across the room, then screamed when I saw it whiz past Stuart’s face.
“Oh my God!” I pressed my hand over my thudding heart. “You scared me to death.” And not just because I’d almost nailed him in the face with a tinfoil projectile. What if he’d been here half an hour earlier? Seen David? Overheard any of our conversations? “What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you still be in the air?”
“Rough day?” he asked, coming closer and sliding his arms around my waist.
“You could say that,” I said, melting against him. “Yeah, I think that
rough
definitely sums it up.” I tilted my head back and squinted at him. “Seriously, why are you here? Your plane isn’t supposed to have even landed yet.”
“Would you believe me if I said I moved heaven and earth to get to you?”
I cocked my head, looking into his eyes as I considered the question. “Yeah,” I finally said. “I think I would.”
“Then that’s what I did,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. He pulled back and glanced around the kitchen, still in a state of organized disarray. “So what do you need?”
I considered the question, suddenly feeling more grounded and in control than I had all day. “Not a thing,” I said. “Right now, the only thing I need is you.”
Since Stuart first got
the public office itch, I’d gone to innumerable cocktail parties hosted at various homes and other venues around the county. And, yes, I’d hosted a few of my own. My first had been a disaster. In addition to having one too few wineglasses (thanks to a last-minute need to use the stem of one to take out an uninvited demon), I’d made a fool of myself by trying to drench with holy water a judge that Stuart was trying to impress. On top of that, I’d almost forgotten the cocktail napkins and I’d come
this
close to burning the pasta sauce.
Most important, I’d been an absolute space case in the kitchen.
To say that I’d improved dramatically would be what we in the mommy business like to call a fib, and what we grown-ups call an out-and-out lie. But I had improved a tiny bit, and as I efficiently pulled cocktail napkins and frilly toothpicks from their designated place in the sideboard, I couldn’t help but mentally applaud my social togetherness. I wasn’t Rachael Ray, but at least I was a step up from Lucy Ricardo. For me, that was saying a lot.
After a quick shower, I changed into one of the cocktail dresses that had been filling my closet ever since my husband turned politico. I did what I could with makeup and hair, considering I lacked the cosmetics gene, then hurried back downstairs.
As I ran around fluffing cushions and picking lint off the backs of chairs and trying to look like I’d actually cooked the meal rather than simply unpacked it, Stuart took Timmy upstairs and settled the little dude in for the night. Not that the kid was happy about a six forty-five bedtime, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the good of the family, and I’m sure Stuart was making a point to drive that lesson home to our little man.
I also took advantage of the fact that there was half a house between us to call David. I told myself I was being responsible and maternal rather than paranoid and freaked, but either way, my fingers were dialing. Unfortunately, no one was answering, a little fact that didn’t do my nerves one bit of good.
“Calling Laura for backup?” Stuart said, sneaking back into the kitchen.
“You’re rather light-footed today,” I said, frowning at him. I had enough critters creeping around the house; I didn’t need my husband added to the mix.
“I wanted to surprise you,” he said. He made a twirling motion with his finger, then eased up beside me and kissed the back of my neck. “Hold up your hair,” he murmured, then slipped a chain around my neck. “I know you wear your crucifix,” he said, “so I got a longer chain on this one. The lady at the store said it’s very fashionable to wear two necklaces at a time.”
“Did she?” I asked, my fingers caressing the two intertwined strips of gold, coming together to form an abstract heart. “It’s beautiful.”