1. Gwen
Chapter one
Gwen
What is it about being in your childhood home that transports you back to being a whiny middle-schooler? I’ve sat at my mothers kitchen table more times than I can count since I moved out. And yet every time, I sit in that chair, the same one that I sat in to do my homework, was told to clear my plate from, and suddenly I’m twelve again. It doesn’t matter how adult the problem or the subject, somehow the magical mother-pressure of that room forces me into a juvenile place.
“Really Gwyneth, I don’t like you in that big house alone. You should have some sort of dog or have you given any more thought to dating? It’s not like you have any obligation to be in mourning…”
My mother sits across from me, her face a mask of innocent inquiry, but I’m not the least bit surprised that we’ve ended up here once again. The gorgeous but dated Victorian we’d inherited from his and Gabe’s dad bought together is simply another convenient excuse to bring up the subject. I’m not about to tell her that I don’t sleep there at all… because it is creepy being there alone. I’d be in big trouble if I ever suggested she think about dating again, because, as far as my mother is concerned, she has fulfilled her purpose in marriage through me and my sister. Whereas because my husband’s life ended before I was able to pop out a baby or two, it’s somehow less valid than her own.
“No mother, I haven’t. I wouldn’t know where to begin. And it’s a small town, who would I date that I don’t already know? Or, for that matter, doesn’t already hate me?”
The really unfortunate thing about my late husband Preston is that it turns out he wasn’t just an asshole to me… he was kind of an asshole to everyone. When we started dating, he was just some stuck up rich kid that summered in Hallow’s Cove, but after we married, he moved into his father’s vacation home and started ruffling feathers. As things went on, folks around town talked to me less and less, gave me dirty looks, and would even ignore me when I spoke to them. I’d wanted to divorce him for years, but he technically owned the game store I run with my best friend, Gabe, so I’d felt stuck. No one deserves death, but his did kind of solve my situation for me.
“Listen,” my mother begins, reaching across the table to place her hand on mine. “I’ve been thinking. I wonder if Gabriel might be scaring away any potential suitors.”
“Suitors? Mother, are you preparing to sell me off for a couple of cows? And anyway, if Gabe is scaring anybody else, then they don’t belong in my life. He’s my best friend and my business partner. We are a package deal.”
“That’s the thing, I wonder if the fact that you’re such a package deal is perhaps part of the problem. Maybe if he didn’t sleep in the shop every day, looking quite so intimidating?”
I roll my eyes, “I’m pretty sure half the people that come in the shop don’t even realize that he’s not a statue. They just think he’s a decoration, albeit an eccentric one sometimes.” I try not to smirk thinking about how last winter, Gabe would pick silly poses for us to find when we woke up. More often than not, it was a game between us trying to figure out what he’d done the night before. “If we should be worrying about anyone alone at night, it should be Gabe.”
In my pocket, my phone vibrates, it’s my text service that messages when the sun has set. Seconds later, like clockwork, it vibrates again.
Gabe: Good morning, good evening, good night. How goes the battle?
I try to hide my smile from my mother. Gabe must have seen my message about going to visit her.
About as well as you might expect. I’ve received new marching orders.
“See! That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” she says, pointing to the message I’d done a bad job at hiding. “What man is going to want to marry a woman that gets phone messages from another man every night at the exact same time! It’s weird!”
“It’s not weird, it’s nice! It’s our thing!”
We’ve lived in Hallow’s Cove since the early advent of cell phones, and my mother has always thought they were weird. Preston got me mine and had wifi installed basically everywhere I go so he could keep tabs on me. He also went on this whole crusade trying to get cell phone towers installed, alienating basically the entire town… it was a mess.
What he didn’t realize was that he basically gave me and my best friend a two-way walkie talkie. Gabe has his own phone leftover from when he went away from school, so now, he’s basically the only person who texts me… at all. My mom’s tried to get me to get rid of it, but it’s become our special thing and my little pink flip phone isn’t going anywhere .
I can’t trying to fight the fight about her assumption that I would only be with a man. We’ll cross that bridge if and when we get to it. Right now, there are no bridges in sight and I am already on the defensive.
“Anyone who has an issue with Gabe isn’t welcome in my life, period.” Hopefully she’ll get the message that if need be, that could include her.
Gabe: Oh, no! I think suddenly I am having some sort of emergency that I cannot solve by myself, you must take this excuse, and leave immediately, (if you want to) to come, save me! It appears the inventory system is on the fritz again, and you have to come fix it before the 50 duplicate orders of mini figures are transmitted to the manufacturers (I have not by the way).
I look down at my phone, feigning surprise. “UGGH Gabe messed up the inventory again, I’m sorry mom, I’ve got to go deal with this.” I push away from the table before my mom can protest. Though, of course, me walking towards the door doesn’t stop her.
“I swear, you need a new inventory system. If he can’t handle placing orders on his own, how are you supposed to meet anyone!”
She follows me out, going into a complex rant about how Gabe’s inability to order inventory clearly means that I will never be able to meet anyone. At no point during her explanation does she actually give solid evidence as to how the two things might be related. I pause before her door, turning back to her to kiss her on the cheek.
“I will look into it, Mom. I think Barnaby’s wife is some sort of IT whiz, maybe she will have an idea. I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Send my love to Gabriel, but remind him that you are a single lady now, and if he wants any hope of you being happy, he will give you more space. Honestly, I’ve never heard of such a thing…”
My mother is still mumbling as I hop onto my bike. Hallow’s Cove is a small town, and we have a company van for when we need to move large amounts of product. I could buy a car, but I have never seen the point. Between my bike, the company van, and a best friend who is a gargoyle, I’ve never had any transportation issues. Halfway down the block, I pause and pull out my phone to respond.
Ha ha, do you think you’re so funny?
Gabe: I am though?
I shake my head and pedal toward the Gargoyle’s Horde, the game store I own with Gabe. I live in a little apartment upstairs because I hated sleeping in a house that was constantly under construction. I’d slept there with him when he’d come to town on the weekends, but I’d leave as soon as he did. Now, every time I go by, I just see all of these unfinished renovations. He’d been trying to take a gorgeous Victorian to some modern monstrosity and I get overwhelmed with everything I need to undo. Even if I could stomach moving into the house, I think I would freak myself out at every little noise. I’m used to noises in the night, Gabriel is up all night long, of course, but I’m used to Gabe’s sounds. Empty new house sounds though? No thanks. Not interested.
Hallow’s Cove is all decked out in preparation for spring. Lampposts are festooned with baskets of flowers that are just now bursting to life, and with the sun set, the lights are flickering to life. I pass houses on my bike, and see mothers leaning over their kids’ shoulders, helping with homework, or calling out doors to remind them to come inside. At first glance, I might seem really out of place in Hallow’s Cove, it’s mostly populated by monsters and I am human after all. But we moved here when I was pretty young, and everyone has always been really lovely to me. I wave at people as I pass; the family of rabbit-shifters that run the inn, and a brother-sister pair of cyclopes biking down the street.
On my way back to the store, I pass our local coffee shop, Cool Beans, and the really pretty—but really abandoned building across the street. The wolfmen who run Cool Beans are… kind of particular about how things look, and their adorable shop shows it, so I have always wondered if they will buy the building across the street and make it into something cool, but I am not one for spending other people’s money, so I’ve never said anything. They are nice, even if Clay is grumpy and still insists our shop should be called Gargoyle’s Hoard instead of Gargoyle’s Horde. At this point, it’s even a bit a of a joke, he and Barnaby—the “Hallow” of Hallow’s Cove—poke fun of me about it at our Business Owners Association meetings and it makes me feel like they’ve really accepted me into the fold, considering how they tease each other.
Barnaby’s bookshop is still lit up. I’ve never really figured out what the hours are, but his mate has at least made them more reliable, and—since she’s responsible for getting so many people in town wifi—I am a huge fan of hers.
I park my bike out back of the store, and walk through the rear entrance. Judging by the voices, Melanie still hasn’t left for the day, even though Gabe’s awake. At the sound of the bell, Gabe’s voice rings out in a falsetto. “Please Gwen, save me! I don’t understand this silly inventory system, it’s too much for my pea brain.”
“You are never going to let me live that down are you?” I ask, pulling an owlbear plushie off a display and chucking it at my friend.
“Wasn’t planning on it, no,” he says, juking out of the way of the plush and giving me a cheeky grin over his shoulder.
Perhaps my mother did have a small point. Gabe might be unreasonably attractive. Maybe. Probably.
He’s bent over the central table of our store, jeans stretched within an inch of their life over his thick thighs and ass. I certainly hope he wears jeans with some stretch, because he’s testing their limits for sure. Cracking his neck, he stands up, so in tune with our little shop that he doesn’t even think twice about how to maneuver his horns to avoid the chandelier that hangs over our table.
“How’s your mom?” he asks. His voice drips with sickly sweet sarcasm.
Fine. My mother is absolutely right. The man is a massive hunk in the most disheveled way. He’s got a pencil stuck behind one ear, a nerdy shirt on that shows some dinosaurs looking up in horror at a flaming D20 asteroid and that pair of ripped jeans. He adjusts his thick rimmed glasses on his smooth horn-topped head and screws his mouth up in sympathy.
“Shitty. She just nags at me to ‘get back out there’ and date the whole time. Or, even worse, about how I should spend less time with you.” I slump down into a chair at the table and toy with my mini for tonight’s game. She’s a gnome archer that has a bow damn near as tall as she is which makes for good spinning when I need to fidget.
“Do you not want to ‘get back out there?’” he asks. Gabe sits in the chair next to me—in his designated dungeon master seat before turning my chair to face him. “It’s been a few months…and you were going to leave him anyway, seems like it would be reasonable...”
“Reasonable, sure, but...” I lean back in my chair and groan. Gabe grabs each of my knees and shakes my legs.
“But what?”
“Gabe, I picked Preston of all people, he was such a dick it’s not even funny. I can’t be trusted to pick someone else.” What I don’t say is, how could anyone ever measure up to him? I had a massive crush on Gabe in high school, but when nothing came of it, I moved on. The trouble is, I’m not certain I ever actually will. If I thought I was punching above my weight with Preston Gabe is so far out of my league it’s not even funny. But, I also don’t know that I could ever be happy with less. “I’m fine. It’s not like I have some gaping hole in my life.”
“Just a house you can’t live in.” He smirks at me. “Anybody would be lucky to love you, but if you aren’t ready, then you’re not ready.”
“Thanks, I just wish my mom would lay off, ya know?” I squeeze his big hand where it practically engulfs my knee and smile, albeit sadly. Bonus point to me for not rolling my eyes at him saying anyone would be lucky to have me.
“Me too, but tonight milady, it is not time for mothers or their drama. Tonight—” he stands with a grand flourish of his arms. “We have a dragon to slay!”
“If anyone else ever shows up...” I perk up at the prospect of our favorite pastime with my favorite person.
“Who cares, if no one else shows, I’ve had a one on one adventure I’ve been thinking about we could always try?”
“Oh yeah? For your new system?”
Gabe has been building his own tabletop RPG system for a while. His degree is in family therapy and he’s been developing a game based on the premise of developing connections between players.
“Yeah, you up for it?”
“Sounds fun!”
It’s early evening and the few customers left in our small store are locals that we know well. A fairy that works at the local hair salon is looking at a party game, and a group of local teens are playing a popular trading card game around one of our tables.
In the 1800s, this place had been built as a fire station, back when they were still using fire wagons, so it is situated as a large, U-shape, with a spot to pull in the fire wagon in the center. Gabe’s usual place, where he poses as a statue during the day, is, of course, vacated, so I pull over and plug-in the large inflatable gargoyle that we keep there while he is awake. We’ve tried really hard to make the place cozy, the kind of place we would have liked to have hung out at when we were kids.
Board games line the walls and four large tables sit on either side of the room. There’s an unspoken rule that though we stop selling around 11:00 p.m., if you’re in the store and you’re playing a game, we’ll let you hang out until I’m ready to go to sleep. The only other unspoken rule is that the table in the back right corner is ours if we want to play. We’ve never actually told anyone that was the case, and we’ve never needed to kick anyone out. It just seems like around 5:00 p.m. whoever is using that table starts wrapping up, never mind the fact that we only actually have standing games there on Wednesdays.
Our DND group used to be quite reliable, but with everyone being in new relationships lately, attendance has been spotty. It isn’t uncommon for Gabe and me to find ourselves alone on game nights.
Gabe stands by the table, setting things out. In his hand, he has a breakfast burrito that’s dripping cheese down his hand. His tongue sneaks out, and he licks it off, and I marvel at how long it is. I don’t know if there is a reason why gargoyles have such long tongues, but apparently it’s a thing.
A thing I think about more often than I should.
“Oh, yeah, there’s a letter for you, it seems like it’s been forwarded from the house.” He waves toward the front desk, where we have a basket under the counter for mail. If it was junk mail or just for the shop, he would have dealt with it, so it must be something directed specifically to me.
“Oh, ok thanks.”
When I pick it up, I see that the letter is from Preston’s law firm, and decide that I will deal with it later. Not only was my dear departed husband an asshole, but it feels like every time I turn around, inheriting our business and our house gets more and more complicated.
I feel terrible thinking of him that way, but it is the truth. Maybe if I hadn’t been so young when we got together, I’d have recognized Preston’s love bombing for what it was. Sadly, I got pregnant and we were married before I did. He’d been in school at the time, and in a fraternity, so, of course, I told him that I didn’t want him to have to miss out on all of those college experiences just because of our little mistake. I offered to stay home in Hallow’s Cove, he already owned a house, and he offered to buy the old fire station so Gabe and I could start the game store we had always wanted, too.
All at once, it was like all of my dreams were coming true, but on fast forward. I was married, I’d soon have a baby, and I owned a game store. Something happened though, I lost the baby, and Preston changed overnight. He’d always been gone a lot, between going to school, and then getting a job in the city, but we’d dated long distance and always joked that space was good for us. I realized just how good it was when just over two years ago, he decided to spend more time in Hallow’s Cove. He said we would have an easier time getting pregnant if he wasn’t gone so much, and I figured that he was right.
But we didn’t get pregnant right away, and he held me responsible. According to Gabe, he had always treated me like crap, and I just couldn’t see it, but once he moved back, it was like having a baby was all he cared about. He controlled every single thing I ate and drank, he sold my car, because physical activity was good for me, and he blamed it on the extra weight that I had always carried. When we went to see a fertility doctor in the city, and they told him that he actually had a low sperm count and that I seemed reasonably fertile, things got worse. He yelled at me the entire drive home, telling me that I’d found us a hack of a doctor.
Things escalated after that, to the point where I got on birth control behind his back. It got so bad before he died, that I was looking into financing, so that I could buy the Gargoyle’s Horde from him if we divorced. I didn’t want to disappoint Gabe, I didn’t want us to lose our business, but staying with Preston had become physically dangerous.
And then… he died. And all of my problems evaporated.
It was an accident, his brakes failed and his car ran off the road in the mountain pass from the city. I didn’t want Preston to die, I just wanted to be free of him.
“I’ve got some cool stuff planned for tonight, that I think I can adapt if the guys don’t show…” Gabe says from where he has relocated to the table. He has some rolled up maps and his backpack, which tells me he’s done a lot of prep work. Even though I am semi-nocturnal, I do sleep for some of the time that he’s awake, so he often uses that time to plan or do stuff around the store.
“I might even have a special heist I could whip out. It’s not entirely finished, but I can think of a little thief that might be perfect to test drive it…”
“Hell yeah I can! Let’s do it!”