Page 43 of Stoker's Serenity

“Oh, Serenity! I’ve made quite the new friend while you’ve been gone!” Mrs. Sedgwick called out to me.

“I can see that!” I called back. Stoker set aside his guitar and stood up, sweeping me into his arms and smacking a kiss onto my lips. I made a startled noise and jumped as he smacked me on the ass and winked at me.

“That was for giving your landlady such a fright,” he said, with a grin that took any actual accusation or sting out of his words.

Mrs. Sedgwick just laughed and laughed. I was completely taken aback and mystified at the strange sort of friendship taking root in front of me, but it made my heart glad.

“Trust me, I’ve had all kinds of consequences for my thoughtlessness today,” I said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stoker asked, and I sighed.

“Can I change first and put some food in my face? I didn’t get lunch.”

He scowled at that and said, “Yeah. You think you can bring down what’s left of your pitcher of iced tea?” He bent and retrieved his glass from beside the little grill and shook the ice cubes in his otherwise-empty glass.

“Yeah, if you can give me a few minutes more, I’ll make some more up.”

“Whatever you need, Orchid, you got it.”

“You’ve done good with this one, my dear. He’s a good man, you should keep him.” Mrs. Sedgwick was smiling happily at the two of us and I felt my cheeks flame vermillion.

“I’ll be right back,” I muttered and made a dash for my apartment.

I set the electric kettle on in the kitchen, took out my other plastic pitcher and got the tea bags out. While the water heated, I got changed into a pair of boot-cut low-rise jeans and a white, side-zippered cheater’s corset top, aesthetically pleasing, without the inability to breathe in it. Hence why I called it a cheater’s top.

I poured the boiling water from the kettle into the pitcher and dropped the bags in. I let them go, collecting the pitcher from the fridge and taking it with me. When I came back in, I would fish out the bags, add some honey and dilute what was sure to be concentrated tea with cold water before putting it into the fridge to chill thoroughly.

I refreshed Stoker’s glass as soon as I got to him, and he held it out to me. I smiled, took it, and took a drink.

“Hot dogs?” I asked quietly and he laughed.

“I forgot to mention, I’m a pretty crap cook. I figured easy comfort food tonight.”

“It’s actually kind of perfect after the day I’ve had.”

“What happened, honey?” Mrs. Sedgwick asked, leaning forward in her chair. I took the one on the other side of the little porch table that sat low between them and Stoker sat back down on the top step, turning the hot dogs on the grill.

I told them about the new manager.

“No, the fuck she did not!” Stoker looked halfway between aghast and ready to burst out laughing when I got to the part about my name.

“I’m not joking, she had the unmitigated gall to tell me she didn’t stand for being corrected when she got my name wrong. My freaking name!”

“Well, I’ll be,” Mrs. Sedgwick tsked under her breath. “The nerve of some people!”

“Ketchup, mustard, relish?” Stoker looked to Mrs. Sedgwick first and I smiled, loving that he treated her so nice after she’d called the cops on him. He was being really understanding.

“A little mayonnaise if you please,” she said and he and I traded freaked-out looks.

“Mayonnaise?” I asked incredulously. “On a hot dog?”

“Why, yes! I like it that way,” she declared.

“At least it’s not on your peanut butter sandwich,” Stoker shrugged.

“What?” I cried.

“Swear to God, my grandma, all the time.”

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