Page 98 of Dead & Breakfast
“What do you mean? You were the one helping us.”
“Ah, yes, but you see, the timing of all this worked out in my favor.” Lore tapped her finger on her chin and gave Arthur a ruefulsmile. “I was supposed to go to the dentist next week, but now I don’t have to!”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Arthur began, but he was drowned out by his husband’s whoop of delight.
“What a joyous occasion! We should throw a party to celebrate Lore’s wonderful news!”
“Aw, you don’t have to,” Lore said, a flush rising in her cheeks to match her eyes.
“Nonsense! We’ll have dental-themed snacks—all the things they tell us not to eat, like taffy and kettle corn!”
Before Sal could immerse himself entirely in party planning, Arthur cleared his throat. “I hate to be a stickler, but—”
“You love to be a stickler, but go on,” Sal said.
“Yes, well, it’s just that the hour is drawing near and we haven’t finished preparing.”
“I’ll help!” Nora picked up Sal’s discarded duster and headed for the bookshelf.
“No, no!” Arthur frowned. “You’re a guest. You shouldn’t have to clean. If you merely hand that back to Sal…”
Nora straightened up and pointed an accusatory finger at Arthur. “I’m yourfriend. I want you two to succeed! Plus, your business is part of Trident Falls, and as its acting mayor, I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t help out now and again.”
Salvatore covered Arthur’s mouth with his hand, though Arthur couldn’t bring himself to protest. It might have warmed his heart, if that was physically possible, to see their community coming together like this. Nora, Lore, Theo, and even Quinn had leaped at the opportunity to help with the rebranding. Arthur could hardly believe how much they’d accomplished in just a week, but here they were, putting on the finishing touches just in time.
“I don’t know how to thank you all.” Arthur gestured at the room—each minor change a grand improvement.
“I’m surprised you went along with it all, if I’m being honest,” Nora said.
“That’s fair.” Arthur glanced around. The ambiance had changed drastically. They’d moved the desk back a bit to make room for Rumble’s new cat tree, or rather cattower, as it was decorated a bit like a medieval castle. They’d also added deep crimson hanging curtains, a sepia-toned family portrait, and almost-indiscernible bats painted in the corners of each window. “I suppose I’m just not all that interested in pretending to be normal anymore.”
“Normal is overrated,” Nora agreed.
“Normal is in the eye of the beholder,” Lore said.
“Normal is a town in Illinois,” Sal supplied.
“Well, I just think if people like Trip Young want to keep this place normal, I won’t be contributing to the effort.” Arthur set his jaw and straightened his shoulders. “They’ll have to tear this town away from our weird little vampire fingers.”
Salvatore gasped. “Speak for yourself! My fingers aren’t so dainty as yours.”
Arthur didn’t know what to say to that, so he took Salvatore by the hand and laced their comparably sized fingers together. He’d rather hold his husband’s hand than argue about them.
“Well, I’ll get my grimy self out of your pristine entryway.” Lore gave them a salute before joining Theo and Quinn outside, promptly finding herself covered in compost in addition to the paint and wood shavings.
“Oh, I almost forgot to mention,” Nora said as they moved their cleaning efforts to the kitchen. “Brody Young wants to hire you for another case.”
“Why?” Arthur took the duster from her hand and returned it to the supply closet. “I’m not a private detective.”
“The laws are fuzzy when it comes to paranormal matters.” Nora shrugged and collapsed into a chair. “Theo says if Brody doesn’t go to juvie for helping his father cover up George Roth’s murder, he’ll likely end up in foster care.” Nora’s voice dipped at the end. “His chances are better if he has a responsible parent around.”
“He wants us to adopt him?” Sal asked, clutching his chest. “I don’t know if we’re cut out to be parents—cat parents, yes, but human child parents? What kind of father would I be, anyway? Arthur is obviously the strict disciplinarian, but I don’t think I could stomach becoming a sports dad or a grilling dad. Is there an elaborate-dinner-parties-and-fashion type of dad?”
“That sounds like a wonderful type of dad, Salvatore.” Arthur placed a hand on Sal’s arm and squeezed. They’d agreed long ago to a childless existence, but Arthur didn’t think that was what this was about. He turned to Nora and lowered his voice. “He wants me to find his mother, doesn’t he?”
Nora nodded. “She’s a paranormal sort, from what I understand.”
“Trip said something about her being witchy. I suppose that’s as good a place as any to start.”
