What do I want to do?
I could always come to their wedding and declare that I object.
He imagined the hurt and betrayal on her face.
The ground began to tremble again.
Puppies and kittens posing pretty and dandelion fluffs floating in the air and poetry readings on a spring day and picnics and daisy chains and diamonds and pearls and emeralds and lapis lazuli.
The ground stopped shaking.
I can’t do that to her. To him, maybe. Not to her.
So, what can I do?
What reason would I give?
He’d see right through me.
He’d come into my office yelling.
I would lose my temper.
I would kill him. Just like how I killed that vampire at Mark Caten’s Davisburg location.
It would break her heart.
She would quit.
She would probably leave town just to get away from me.
I’d never see her again.
What else can I do?
Change their shifts to keep them separate.
He’d make the connections. He’d see the blank spaces in between the dots.
He’d know why I’m making them work on opposite days.
Sammy sighed again.
Another lost temper.
Another dead Mr. Smith.
Tel them not to fraternize at work.
They’d both see through that one.
If I spin it just right, maybe they won’t.
His mother smiled at him. Daffodils broke through the rock and the snow and opened their petals wide. “Are you done ruminating, Sammy?”
“Yes. I know what I should do. Why are you out here?”
She walked to the edge of the precipice and looked up at the sky. “It’s a lovely night.”
“My wings itched to become skye.”
“As did mine.”
She looked back at him. “I would tell you to let Ms. Addleston go, but I know how hard it is to let go of a treasure. Especially one so precious and dear.”
He lowered his head as Estrella walked back to him.
She laid her comparatively small human hand on his silver head crest. “I trust you will choose the right maneuver.”
Ambrose smiled as Barbara drove.
Her hair had found a way to further untuck itself and he couldn’t quite figure out how. But the sight of her disheveled hair made him happy for reasons he couldn’t even explain. “You’re beautiful.”
“I’ll humor you this time and not deny it.”
“Ha! And you wonder why I call you a brat.”
She giggled. “So, what are you up to tonight?”
“I’ve already had my meal for tonight. Surprisingly enough, I managed not to kill him or change him. How about that?”
“That is surprising.”
“As for my plans…” Ambrose shrugged. “I have nothing planned.” He opened his mouth to speak, thought better about it, and clammed up.
“You looked like you were going to say something.”
“I was going to ask you something, but…”
“What is it?”
“I was wondering. Are you tired? Are you really that tired?”
“I’m not falling asleep on my feet, but what were you thinking?”
“You’ll laugh at me, but.” He sighed and just blurted it on out, “Can I come to your house and watch ‘The Notebook’ with you again?”
She laughed out loud.
“See? I knew you’d laugh at me.”
“Silly. Of course, you can.”
His face lit up. “Thank you!”