A Quarrel Called: Stewards Of The Plane Book 1 (24 page)

66. TARA

It was my turn to dust the shop and I complained while I was
doing it, but secretly I liked it. It gave me the opportunity to examine the
contents of the shop in depth. I saw when new items were put on the shelves and
was reminded when others sold. I got a chance to move the trinkets around so
that they would catch a customer’s
eye,
and the right
to a Cheshire cat grin when my placement turned into a purchase.

“Tara, when you’re done over there, can you polish the
silver jewelry? I like to make sure that gets done once a
month,
and it’s about that time.”

“Sure,” I said, grinning.
A chance to
touch all the pretty sparkly stuff?
Heck, yeah. I finished wiping down
the crates that held the scented
votives
and threw
the rags into the laundry pile. Since Esme kept real cotton hand towels in the
bathroom and liked to keep those well stocked, there was a lot more laundry
than you would think there would be for a metaphysical shop, at least one full
load every few days.

I grabbed the silver polishing cloth from behind the
register and pulled it out, prepared to spend an hour on the floor, sitting
crisscross applesauce, admiring baubles made from silver, copper, brass, and
semiprecious gems. I felt a little bit like a jealous dragon guarding her hoard
just thinking about it.

“I’ll be back in a few – I have to run the cash down to the
bank.”

“Okay,” I said without looking up. I was already admiring
myself and a pair of green onyx earrings in a nearby mirror. Maybe with my next
paycheck…

A few minutes later, the door chimed and I looked up
expecting a customer and was pleased to see Mel standing there instead.

“Hey, doll,” I said. “What brings a girl like you to a place
like this?” I gave her my best Humphrey Bogart impression.

She put a drink carrier from Smitty’s down on the counter
and handed me the nearest, steaming cup. I could smell chai with a hint of
vanilla, and my insides began to swoon, jewelry all but forgotten.

“Yum.”
I took a sip and peered at
her over the lid of the cup. She didn’t meet my gaze. Either she felt guilty
about something or… “What’s up? You ready to cry or something? Mel?”

She shook her head, but I could tell she didn’t mean it.

“Mel, what’s wrong?”

Silence; nothing but crickets.
Then
she took a sip of her coffee and I was hopeful for a response. When she finally
looked up at me, still silent, I wasn’t surprised to see her morose expression.

“Don’t make me use my psychic powers on you,” I said.

“I think I have a crush on Sam.”

“Hello, Othello,” I said, pretending to be surprised. “What
brought this on?”

“I mean, I don’t know for sure. But I feel really conflicted
about him and Lily, and I keep wanting to call him in the middle of the night –
but I don’t,” she added hastily. “
Which is weird, because we
used to talk on the phone in the middle of the night all the time.
”

“No matter where you go, there you are.”

“What?” she said, clearly
not getting
my meaning.

“Never mind.
Forget I said that.
Well, what are you going to do about it?”

She shook her head.
“Nothing.
He
seems really happy with Lily, and she doesn’t
seem
like an evil bitch, so… I mean, why would I mess that up for
him? What kind of friend would I be?”

My own vibes about Lily were also as clear as mud. She
didn’t
seem
like an evil
beeyatch
, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t one. We’d all
seen
Cruel Intentions
, right? “I
guess you just have to ride it out. Take it from me, the harder you push Sam,
the faster he runs away. So I guess the best tactic is just to settle back and
be… cool?”

“Right.
Like I
used to be.”
Her brow furrowed. “Now I’m just a freaking mess. Up is
down and left is right. Magic is science and Sam is unavailable.”

“Do you think that’s it?” I said, taking another sip of my
deliciously foamy vanilla chai latte.

“What?
That since he’s unavailable I
suddenly want him?
I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t think I’m that kind
of person. Do you think I am that kind of person?” The furrows on her brow
deepened.

I didn’t. But hormones did strange things to people our age.
Then the door chimed and Esme walked back in.

“Ah, Melody!
I can see you’ve been
through some changes!” She stopped to put a hand out and stroked Melody’s cheek
and straight brown hair. “And you look so very, very tired. Are you getting
enough vitamins? This goes deeper than sleep, I think.”

Melody nodded.
“Yeah.
Some stuff
has been going on at home, and then there’s guy trouble.”

“Oh yes, how are you feeling after your terrible attack the
other day? Perhaps that is what has you so drained.”

I felt a weird flutter in my stomach, and I looked over at
Mel. She looked at me, her brow furrowed further, and then back to Esme.

“Um, I’m getting better, thanks.”

Esme continued around the counter to the back of the shop
where she deposited her heavy bag and a plastic sack and came back up behind
the counter. “That’s very good. You should definitely drink some vegetable
juice to help replenish your vitamins A and C? And if you don’t get enough sun
– vitamin D you know – you should spend some time soaking it up. It will help,
believe me. Those nasty creatures can literally suck the life out of you.”

Did you tell her
?
Mel mouthed at me. I shook my head, I definitely had not. “How did you know
about Melody’s… attack?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could.

“Oh, I forget. Maybe your grandmother told me the other day
when she stopped by? It must have been quite frightening for you!” Esme gave us
each a sympathetic smile.

I felt the flutter in my stomach resolve. Of course Melody’s
Gram had told her. That made perfect sense. Melody looked relieved as well.

“It was terrifying,” put Melody simply. “I went from not
knowing anything about anything to being attacked by multiple
somethings
, and it was … terrifying. And
then Sam was there and G. and…” her face cleared and she suddenly smiled.
Switching subjects abruptly in the middle of the conversation, she looked at me
and said, “That’s why.”

“Why what?”
Esme asked, confused.

Mel looked at her briefly and then back to me. “That’s why I
have a crush on Sam all of the sudden.
Because Sam was there.
He smashed the window to save me. I mean, G. really was a hero,” she said
quickly, in case I got offended.

I didn’t. “No, you’re right. Sam was there when you needed
him. That makes total sense.”

“Ah, boys.
I remember what it was
like to be your age. They like you and you don’t like them. You like them and
they don’t like you back. Then one day, something magic happens.” She smiled
and gave a slight chin nod to Melody. “You’ll see.”

Melody shrugged. “I’m not worried about it anymore. I mean,
now that I know why I suddenly like him when I was so resistant before – maybe
it will make things easier--”

“Sam has a new girlfriend,” I said to Esme over my shoulder.
I finally bent down to pick up another piece of jewelry to polish, my vanilla
chai latte cup suddenly empty.

“Oh, I see,” said Esme. “Well, with things like this, it’s
only a matter of time.”

“Until what?”
I asked.

“Until the boy figures out what he is
missing.”
She turned to head back to the store room again, her blouse
fluttering behind her like butterfly wings. “Oh yes,” she said, pausing
midstride, “I forgot to tell you, Tara. I need you to watch the store this
weekend – I have some urgent business to attend to and won’t be back until
Monday. So make sure you open and close – I will pay you double for the
trouble.” She smiled.

Double pay?
Heck, yeah. “No
problem,” I said. “I see a trip to the mall in my future,” I said to Melody. I
checked my latte cup again—nope, still empty—and then stole a quick sip out of
Melody’s cup.

“Hey!” she said, grabbing her cup back.

“What are friends for?”

67. SAM

The rain was coming down so hard outside that it resembled a
hurricane. But the person on the opposite end of the phone number we called
assured us that the auction was still on. I groaned. That meant I had to go. In
fact, G. was already on his way over to get me.

His Dad had bowed out this time, claiming he needed to work
on his column, but G. and I figured he just didn’t want to be stuck all day in
the rain, at an auction in which he had no intention of buying any cars. G.
said that if they had been auctioning off military memorabilia, we’d have to
tie him up to keep him from coming along – but old cars? Not so much.

I didn’t mind. This way, G. and I could talk freely about
the car, Lily, and Orla without feeling like we had to watch what we said in
front of his Dad. But the truth was, right now I didn’t want to talk about any
of that, because my stomach was in knots. I’d never tried to tempt fate with my
dreams before.

Before – the dreams came, and later on, the event would
unfold, more or less in the same way.
Usually more than less.

This time it was like I was deliberately pushing to make
this one come true, and that bothered me a lot. Because it put Melody in danger
(at least in the dream, she was in danger) and if G.’s dream was anything to
pay attention to, it made Lily look ghoulish and scary, and that was something
I definitely didn’t want to hear about my girlfriend.

There I said it.
Girlfriend.
Friend who’s a girl who also likes to make out and have sex.
I felt my crotch tighten. I wondered how long it would be before I stopped
getting hard pretty much every time I thought of her naked. I asked G. what he
thought.

“I don’t know, man. I’ve never… I mean, Tara and I are
taking things slow. You know.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. I wouldn’t have gone so fast either, but
between you and me, I think Lily’s a little more… experienced.”

“Does that bother you?”

Yes.
“Heck, no.”

The windshield wipers swung furiously back and forth while
the rain came down in freaking buckets. I hadn’t seen it rain this hard in
forever. I was glad for the rain, anyone who lived in Texas for any length of
time was always glad for the rain, but man, the timing sucked. It could have
waited to downpour at least until after the auction; it looked like as much
water was splashing up from the ground as was coming down from the sky.

“I hope they put the top up on the convertible,” G. said.

“If they didn’t, I guess there’s no reason to worry about
buying the car.
Because it will have all kinds of electrical
problems.”

“Maybe.
But a lot of that stuff can
be repaired, right?”

“How the heck should I know?” I said. “You’re the one with a
Dad to teach you stuff like that. All I know is that water and electricity go
boom.”

We pulled into the parking lot of the auction house and
found a parking space. The lot had more cars parked than I would have thought,
considering the weather, but by the size of the lot, I assumed this would be
considered a light traffic day. I supposed that was a good thing.

We grabbed our umbrellas from the back seat and unfurled
them. The rain had lessened for a moment, and I could clearly see the cars for
sale at the end of the lot nearest the building. There was a blue canopy set up
down there with a registration table under it. We made our way over to it.

I had to produce my driver’s license and sign a waiver
saying that I was good for my bid on penalty of my life, and first-born son,
and then was told I could go inside for a bottle of water or free coffee while
we waited for the action to start.

A weird crawling sensation ran down my back and I turned to
see a man from across the room staring in our direction.
Tall,
athletic, short-cropped hair, neck tattoo and black sunglasses.
He
wasn’t staring at
me,
he was staring at G. Intently
staring at G. I recognized him – Thompson, the neighbor guy from across the
street. The very same who’s car got pissed on every other night by the
wandering Mr. Smith. Picturing the cat backing up to spray Thompson’s car, I
almost snickered but held it in check. I nudged G. with my elbow and motioned
behind us. It didn’t occur to me that there might be a reason I shouldn’t have
done that.

G. turned to look over his shoulder at Thompson and then
whipped his head around, fast, inhaling sharply through his teeth. “Shit,” he
said.

“What?” I
asked,
my smile fading.
There was something in his tone I didn’t like.

“That’s one of the guys from the garage. I think it was his
car.” He looked at me, a long meaningful stare, and finished, “The car I threw
the rock at.”

“Was the car a low slung, dark gray sports car?”

“Yes.”

“Shit,” I said, staring ahead. “What do we do?”

G. shook his head. “Be cool, I guess? I mean, he won’t start
a scene here, right?”

A shadow moved behind us. I turned to see Thompson, looming
just behind G. He reached out to put his hand on G.’s shoulder, and I saw G.
tense in anticipation. This did not look good.
“Oh, hey, Mr.
Thompson.
Weird seeing you here,” I said, trying to be cool like G. had
suggested, but failing as my voice cracked. I stuck my hand out to shake his
anyways, hoping he wouldn’t crush it.

The PA system came on announcing the start of the auction,
and Thompson looked down at me briefly, the reflection in his sunglasses dark
and cold. He flashed a brief look at G.’s back before he turned on his heel to
head out to the lot. Strange to head out in the rain with sunglasses on,
stranger still as I realized I had never actually seen him without them.