Page 114 of The Witching Hours

“What do you want me to do?”

I really had no answer for that. “Do you sleep?”

“Sometimes.”

“I just have one bedroom. I use the other one as a kind of, um, office. Would you be comfortable on the couch if you want to sleep?”

He smiled. “Veronica. Are you concerned for my comfort?” He seemed to be genuinely moved by that simple gesture.

“Well, sure. I mean, you’re sort of like a guest. Not that you were invited, but you know what I mean.”

“I will be perfectly fine. I will watch TV and continue to learn about this world.”

“I’m not sure TV is the best teacher. There’s some pretty strange stuff in there. Some of it is even sick.”

“Sick?”

“Bad stuff.”

“What else could ‘sick’ mean?”

“Well…”

“Would you like to make me a list of your favorite shows?”

“Well. I would, but I don’t think you’re going to be here long enough to watch all my favorite shows.”

“I’ll be here until your wishes send me away.”

That again. I couldn’t think of a reply so I said, “Well, good night.”

“Good night.”

For a while I was awake listening to the almost inaudible sounds of TV coming from the living room. There was an unmistakable comfort in knowing there was someone else in the house. I felt myself fully relaxing into a deep sleep.

The next morning, I turned over to look at the clock, surprised that it was full light and Paddy hadn’t awakened me. Eight o’clock. I sat up straight. Paddy wasn’t there.

I opened my bedroom door and shuffled toward the kitchen.

Mitch was looking at my spice cabinet. Paddy had been gazing at him adoringly, but to his credit, when he saw me, he thumped his tail against the floor and came trotting over for a good morning pet.

“How did Paddy get in here?” I asked.

“I got him early and took him for a long walk so you could sleep.”

“Oh. That was… nice.”

Mitch smiled. “Are you hungry?”

“Maybe. Coffee first though.” I glanced toward the coffee pot, but when I looked back, Mitch was holding out a steaming mug of something that smelled a lot like fresh brewed coffee. “Wow. Thank you. That’s like… magic.” I don’t know why I should be surprised at anything at this point. “What were you looking for in the spice cabinet?”

“Just seeing what you have. I watched cooking shows last night. They talked about some things that are unfamiliar to me. Spices and herbs I don’t know.”

“I see. Maybe you should take cooking classes.” I almost slapped myself for blurting that out without thinking. He should not sign up for cooking classes. He should leave!

“Maybe,” he said slowly. “I can make anything that I understand, but I have to know ingredients first.”

“That, um, makes sense I suppose. How were you able to make stroganoff?”

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