Chapter 15 #2
This was not a good time. She had Bea, and…
she wasn’t in the right headspace to talk to Belphegor now, not when talking meant finding ways to avoid mentioning that she was growing more certain by the day that she wanted to call off the wedding.
That was a conversation she did not want to have over the phone.
No, she needed to do it, and it needed to be in person.
That meant she had nine days to figure out how to explain why she couldn’t marry him without saying she was still—and was swiftly realizing she always would be—hung up on her first and only love.
That her relationship with Belphegor might not be about feelings, but she couldn’t give even part of herself to him when all of her belonged to Finn.
But if she didn’t answer now, he would probably call back. There was only so long she could avoid talking, only so many excuses she could give for missing his calls.
The phone was going to stop ringing soon, and she had a choice to make.
“Hey. What’s up?”
There was a pause followed by a disgruntled harrumph. “What’s up? Effie, you have been gone for days.”
She cringed. “Miss me?”
Another pause, this one longer. “I…miss that thing you do with your tongue?” he replied, misinterpreting her cheek as a genuine inquiry. “Siphesihle’s certainly not bad at it, but it was not the same.”
Her thoughts screeched to a halt. “My coworker Siphesihle? You slept with her?”
“Should I not have? You never said your coworkers were off-limits or that—”
“No!” Obviously he could sleep with whoever he wanted. They both could. “I—”
“Have you not slept with Siphesihle?”
She had, but that wasn’t the point. “I wasn’t saying anything. I…I think that’s great. You should—you should definitely have lots of sex with Siphesihle.”
Sleeping with her meant he hadn’t been sitting at home pining for Effie, which meant she had no reason to feel bad that he’d barely crossed her mind. It was a complete absolution of any guilt she might’ve felt if it had occurred to her that she had cause to feel it.
“I mean…” He laughed lightly. “I already did?”
“Good.” Effie cleared her throat. “Keep it up, tiger.”
Maybe she should send Siphesihle a gift basket for keeping Belphegor distracted and sparing her the headache of making up excuses to explain her extended absence.
It wouldn’t help her now, but if she asked Siphesihle to step it up, maybe he wouldn’t call again while she was—
“Effie,” Belphegor interrupted her train of thought. “Are you all right?”
“Of course,” she said, jiggling Bea’s foot and smiling when she gave a gummy grin. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You are acting strange.” He paused. “Stranger than usual, I mean.”
Bea grabbed her foot and popped her big toe in her mouth. She was so stinking cute, Effie could just gobble her right up.
“What, a girl can’t encourage her boyfriend to sleep with her hot coworker now? Jeez, what’s the world coming to?”
“Fiancé.”
“Hmm?”
“You called me your boyfriend. I am your fiancé.”
“Right.” She cringed. “Sorry. Slip of the tongue you’re so fond of. I’m a little preoccupied at the moment.”
“About that.” He sighed, and it was clear he was about to get to the crux of why he’d called. “People are beginning to ask questions. Harbinger, in particular, has been…probing.”
Probing? Ugh, how prim. Harbinger was an interfering, exacting pain in her ass was what he was. She wished Belphegor would just call a fig a fig. “You’re his boss. Tell him to suck your dick.”
“That would be sexual harassment,” Belphegor chided. “And quite frankly, I would prefer Harbinger keep as far away from my cockstand as possible.”
For Satan’s sake. Effie palmed her forehead.
“I didn’t mean it literally, I meant— You know what?
Never mind. I said I was going to work remotely, and I am.
Just this morning I started a religious flame war on Twitter.
Militant atheism and religious fanaticism are trending.
Four US senators have thrown in their two cents and three Housewives.
If I can get the pope to comment, it’ll be a fucking hat trick. ”
“I saw,” he said, sounding impressed, albeit grudgingly. “Although it is X, not Twitter. The name changed in 2023.”
She rolled her eyes. “Nobody calls it X. X sounds stupid.”
“It is what it is called, Effie. It is only right you call it by its proper name.”
Effie bristled, his tone rankling. She didn’t appreciate being preached to. “All right, Belphegor. I’m working here, okay? I really am.”
“That does not explain what is taking you so long,” he groused. “Or where here even is.”
“I told you, it’s a—”
“Contractual snafu, yes. But what does that mean?”
“It means…” She weighed how much she could get away with saying and quickly decided the safest bet would be to say nothing. Any answers she gave would only raise more questions. “It means I’ll be back inside a fortnight, okay?”
“A fortnight?” Belphegor sighed over the line. “Look, Effie, as your fiancé, I feel it is my duty to say what needs saying, and I have to say, I am concerned. We both know you have a history of irrational decision-making, of acting imprudently at times. If this is one of those times—”
“Once!” she cried. “I made one overhasty decision without considering the consequences. One. It’s hardly fair to act like it’s some sort of pattern.”
“You are downplaying it. It was one overhasty decision that landed you on probation and nearly landed you in Judecca. You are on thin ice, and I cannot cover for you forever.”
God, his tone sucked. Finn, even when vexed with her, didn’t speak to her like she was a child.
“Yes, well, it’s not forever.” A sharp pang of misery struck her chest. “It’s only for a fortnight.”
“You say that now, but a week ago, you said you would be back in a jiffy.”
“I am trying my goddamn best here, Belphegor.” Her voice rose, trembling, perilously close to cracking. “I appreciate you covering for me, I do, but I can’t—”
Bea whimpered, the only warning she gave before letting out an ear-splitting squall that made Effie’s breath catch in the back of her throat.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Was that an infant?” Belphegor asked, sounding equal parts confused and wary.
“Um, no, it was…” She floundered for an excuse and couldn’t find one. “You know, I think the line’s breaking up. I’m—I’m going through a tunnel and—” She sucked in a deep breath. Fuck it. “Krrrrsssssssshhhhh.”
“We are on 5G,” Belphegor said with a deeply aggrieved sigh. “I can hear you perfectly fine. You just made static noises with your mouth.”
Gritting her teeth, Effie smashed the end call button and threw her phone across the bed as if the distance could unburden her.
Just like breaking up with Belphegor, that was a problem for future Effie. Right now, Bea needed her.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” Effie carefully scooped her off the bed, cradling Bea against her chest, one hand supporting her bottom. “Do you need your diaper changed?”
She didn’t. And she wasn’t hungry, either. Six months was too old for Bea to be colicky. She thought maybe Bea might be cutting a tooth, but she wasn’t feverish, and her gums weren’t inflamed. And yet big fat tears continued to roll down her chubby red cheeks as she wailed.
“I don’t know what you want,” Effie lamented, each cry Bea let out twisting her heart. She was beginning to get the awful feeling that Bea could sense her distress, that together they were creating a feedback loop, amplifying each other’s emotions, making everything worse.
Red-faced, with her chin covered in spit, Bea clumsily smacked at the side of Effie’s face with a sticky hand. Her cries petered out to hiccups, her glossy blue eyes round as she stared up at Effie, spellbound.
She didn’t understand what had happened that made Bea stop crying, but she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Continuing to gently bounce her around the room, she made a turn, passing the mirror atop the dresser, and did a double take.
Her eyes were black as pitch. Stress would do that to a demon.
Bea didn’t seem alarmed, but rather awed, giving Effie another pat near her temple.
“You like my eyes, huh? How about…” She stuck out her tongue, forked, and gave it a wiggle.
Just as she’d hoped, Bea shrieked with laughter, grabbing Effie’s face with both hands.
Science cautioned against kissing babies, because the risk of spreading germs or viruses like RSV was too great to chance, but demons couldn’t carry or contract diseases—none that could be transferred to humans, at least—and Bea smelled so warm and sweet that Effie couldn’t help but brush a quick kiss against the top of her head.
Bea cooed softly and nuzzled into the space between Effie’s neck and her shoulder, and Effie’s heart swelled painfully inside her chest, seized by a longing so fierce her knees nearly buckled with it.
She’d never gotten this, baby giggles and kisses, tiny hands grabbing at her cheeks and gripping her fingers. Milk-sweet sighs and eyes that looked up at her like she was more than her sins, more than her shortcomings, more than her mistakes.
Bea wasn’t hers—Effie was just an interloper—but for a moment, just a moment, she let herself pretend.
Something in her chest splintered, and she took a deep breath, forcing herself to swallow over the thickness building in her throat.
Bea might not be hers, but she was a gift, and Effie would be a fool twice over if she let her sadness squander the time she should be savoring, precious little as it was.
“Okay, Bea.” She brought her back over to the bed, settling her down in the middle of her pillow moat beside Nessie. “If you liked that magic, let’s see what else we can do.”
Finn (4:16 p.m.): On my way!
Effie (4:17 p.m.): Don’t knock, just come in. I put Bea down for a nap at 4.
Finn slipped inside the room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. He glanced over at the bed, his whole face softening at the sight of Bea sleeping peacefully inside her ring of pillows.