Chapter 26
It was another beautiful day at the Dead & Breakfast: the air smelled of fresh scones, the Queen Anne’s lace was in full bloom, and the rooms were booked with new faces.
Arthur’s notebook had brief descriptions of them all, just in case, of course.
A week had passed since he and Sal had squared off against a murderous witch, but there was no telling when the next mystery would materialize.
Arthur privately hoped it would be a good long while before he had to put his detective skills to the test again…
but not too long. He didn’t want to get rusty.
“Oh, how I long for company!” Salvatore wailed, face pressed against the window to stare out at the very full parking lot. “When will this torment end? I ache! I bleed! I shall perish from loneliness!”
“I’m right here, Sal,” Arthur muttered. He wasn’t unsympathetic to his husband’s anguish, it was only that Sal had been going on about his melancholy all morning while Arthur was left to do all the work to prepare for brunch himself.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Sal to find some excuse or another to avoid labor, but after he caught Sal shedding real tears over Rumble’s food and water bowls, Arthur began to wonder if there wasn’t something a little more substantive to this meltdown.
“How shall I endure?” Sal flopped into a chair, laying his head on the table. “I am a delicate bird with an empty nest!”
Arthur turned off the faucet and left the dishes half-done to join his husband.
“Lots of parents feel this way when their child leaves home.” He placed a hand on Sal’s shoulder and squeezed.
“But Rumble isn’t Rumble anymore. She’s a fully grown person with a life—and a son.
We can’t expect her to live with us forever. ”
“Why not?” Sal whined. “We could clear out rooms for them upstairs. They could be permanent residents!”
“We need those rooms for guests, Sal. That’s how this business works—we won’t get paid if we don’t have rooms for rent.”
“Drat! Money is nothing but a curse!”
Arthur made a mental note to remind Sal of this the next time he spent an entire month’s profit on clothing, but that wasn’t the point he was trying to make right now.
“Besides, Wilhelmina and Brody have some catching up to do. They don’t need us lurking around while they sort out their relationship. ”
“Are you sure? I can be a very good mediator for conflict.”
“I’m quite sure.” Arthur kissed the top of Sal’s head. “Cheer up, my love. Our guests will be here any minute.”
As if to punctuate his point, the bell above the front door chimed in unison with the timer. Arthur hurried to remove the scones from the oven as Sal practically skipped to the door to answer.
“Hello, Nora, Quinn. You’re both looking ravishing this morning!” Sal exclaimed, mood quite turned by the arrival of their friends. “Local social media is still abuzz about what a huge success the Solstice Festival was, even if the headliner never showed for the big finale.”
Arthur plated the scones and grabbed a jug of iced raspberry tea—the finishing touches for their celebratory brunch.
“Oh, Theo! You didn’t have to bring anything.
No, no, we’ll take the espresso beans. Don’t be silly.
I’m never one to refuse a gift.” Sal continued to greet their guests, his running commentary much louder than whatever they had to say in return.
“Lore, that hat is fantastic. Please, send me the link. I must get one for Arthur. He will look so dashing while he gardens. And Stephanie! So delighted you could join us! Come in, come in.”
Stepping back, Arthur examined the table.
He’d set nine places, and cooked enough food for a dozen.
All the silverware was straight, coffee mugs and water glasses lined up perfectly, napkins folded and waiting.
Large platters of pancakes, sausage, and quiche lined the middle of the table.
It would be a crowded affair—they’d had to add an extra leaf to make room for everyone—but Arthur didn’t mind. The more the merrier.
Sal’s greetings tapered off as everyone flooded into the room.
There was another round of hellos as Arthur accepted handshakes and shoulder slaps and congratulations.
As happy as he was to see his friends, his heart sank a little.
Two other people had been invited to this event, but they’d not yet arrived.
Perhaps they didn’t want to be here after all.
He glanced at Sal to see if his husband had noticed, but Sal was busy trying on Lore’s hat—an enormous wide-brimmed straw affair that would, indeed, be good for keeping the sun off Arthur while he was gardening.
Everyone began filling their plates, and the talk moved to the food.
Arthur preened a little at their compliments, happy they were enjoying themselves.
Despite Arthur’s careful curation of the dining table, no one sat, opting to take their food and conversation to the living room.
Arthur had anticipated this, of course, and put a Sam Cooke album on the record player.
Much to his dismay, Salvatore had swapped it out for the Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack.
It wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind—easy listening was best for events where conversation was the central activity—but it hardly mattered.
The dulcet tones of Tim Curry’s “Sweet Transvestite” were drowned out by the television, which Sal had turned on to catch a rerun of Love Is Dead.
“Oh! I haven’t caught up!” Nora said between bites of waffle, eagerly turning to watch.
Quinn settled on the settee beside her and leaned forward. “Oh my god, you’ll never believe what Brittany says to the Count in this episode.”
“I didn’t know you were a fan!” Salvatore joined them, eyeing Quinn suspiciously.
“Guilty pleasure.” Quinn took a long swig of coffee.
“Never feel guilty about pleasure, darling,” Sal said. “Takes the fun out of it.”
“I’ve never watched. Is it good?” Stephanie asked, sitting down next to them.
“Is it good?!” Sal clutched his metaphorical pearls.
Arthur opened his mouth to head his husband off what was sure to be a glorious rant, but Lore beat him to it.
“I’m so glad I could connect you guys! Stephanie’s soaps are going to be so great in the D&B.”
“Fortuitous, indeed.” Arthur nodded in agreement. They’d already begun stocking them in the bathrooms with more on order.
“Yeah, now that Arthur doesn’t suspect you of murder anymore, we can go into business together!” Sal clapped his hands in delight.
“Wait, what?” Lore’s face fell. “You actually suspected Stephanie?”
“Not really.” Arthur smiled sheepishly. “Just had to cover our bases with the investigation. You know how it is.”
“No, I definitely don’t! I told you Stephanie was cool.” Lore crossed her arms.
“And we totally agree!” Sal repositioned himself to sit between Lore and Stephanie, reaching for both of their hands. “The coolest!”
Arthur glanced at his watch, then the door.
He couldn’t help but feel a little anxious about their number.
He and Sal had spoken at length about Arthur’s previous concerns about failure over the past week and he was doing his best not to let little things like this affect his sense of self-worth.
He tried to look on the bright side. At least this meant fewer dishes to wash up after.
He tried to cling to the silver lining while remaining a genial host to the guests who’d come.
Just then, the bell chimed again. Arthur straightened and excused himself. Wilhelmina and Brody stood in the lobby, both of them looking a little unsure.
“Welcome! Welcome!” Arthur chanted with a little too much gusto. “Everyone’s in the living room, but you can grab a plate first. Dining room is this way—” He paused and laughed self-consciously. “Of course, you already know that, since this was your home, too, not so long ago.”
Wilhelmina smiled, a hint of mischief in her eyes that was all too familiar, though Arthur was used to seeing the expression on the face of a green-eyed black cat.
“Sorry we’re late,” Wilhelmina said. She indicated a large bag with the Paw & Order logo on it. “We made a detour on the way.”
“That’s quite all right. There’s still plenty of food!
” Arthur wasn’t sure why they’d need to stop at the pet store before coming to brunch.
Brody had enthusiastically adopted Al Capone, the corgi, but he wasn’t in attendance.
Perhaps Wilhelmina wasn’t used to human food again yet?
He glanced at the bags and then back at Wilhelmina.
“We could, uh…open a can of paté if you prefer?”
“Oh god, no!” Wilhelmina made a face, sticking out her tongue in what looked oddly like a mlem. She held the bags out to Arthur. “These are for Grumble.”
Arthur reached for the bags, then paused, misgivings rising in his mind.
“How did you know about our new goldfish?” he asked, confused. By the time Grumble had joined their little family, Rumble had already been missing.
Wilhelmina blushed and glanced away. “I, uh, might have been keeping an eye on your investigation.”
“You were watching us?” Arthur recalled all the moments since Lola’s death that he’d felt eyes on him. “I thought it was Other Arthur Miller doing the spying.”
“He was, some. I saw him, too. Easy to sneak around when you’re a little black cat.”
“Ugh, Mom, that’s so creepy,” Brody said.
“You’re lucky I was spying. I saved you from Ambrosia’s awful spell.
” Wilhelmina gathered herself and held the bags out to Arthur once more.
“And there’s the added bonus of knowing the perfect gift to give you and Sal.
I figured I’d get you some goldfish accessories, since I’m no longer your cat.
Sal will need something else to heap his love onto. ”
“Thank you, Wilhelmina,” Arthur said, genuinely touched. “That was so thoughtful of you.”
“Please, call me Wil. All my friends do.”
Arthur turned to lead them into the dining room so they couldn’t see his misty eyes.
Sal wasn’t the only one who missed the presence of Rumble in the house.
Their guests filled their plates, then joined the others in the living room, where they were met with enthusiastic greetings, most of all from Sal, who accepted the bags from the pet store eagerly, his breakfast forgotten.
“I can’t believe that goldfish is still alive,” said Theo. “The ones they give out at fairs don’t normally survive long.”
“They don’t have long lifespans,” Lore agreed. “Of course, neither do humans.”
“Ah, well,” Sal said, with an edge to his voice. “I happen to be an excellent pet owner. More scones? Bacon, anyone?”
Arthur decided to let the subject drop for now.
He had his suspicions, but it wasn’t worth getting into it with company.
Instead, he shared the news that Hailey North was starting her own coven, one that would focus on community building rather than profits.
When last they spoke, Hailey had still been processing her grief and horror at who Ambrosia Celestine had really been, but Arthur knew she’d move past it.
He also knew Hailey would make an excellent coven leader.
During a lull in the conversation, he turned to Wil and asked, “How are you settling in now that you’re, uh, back?
” He realized halfway through the question that it might be impolite to ask about her return to human form, but he couldn’t very well ask her about returning to Trident Falls, since she’d done that months ago.
Luckily, Wil didn’t seem to mind, and took the question as it was intended. “It’s an adjustment, for sure, but I’m managing. We have an appointment to get Brody’s custody sorted out, so that will be settled soon, thanks to Mr. Park.” She flashed a smile at Theo.
“Happy to help,” Theo said, ducking his head. “Brody’s a model employee, and it’s the least I can do to ensure he can stay on at the Big Bad Brew. You should be very proud of him.”
“Oh, I am!” Wil pinched Brody’s cheek. “I’m just so glad we’re together again.”
As Wil and Theo smiled at each other just a beat too long, Sal made eye contact with Arthur over their heads and pressed his fingers together in the air like they were two dolls kissing.
“Mom keeps forgetting she’s not a cat,” Brody said loudly, interrupting the charged moment. “I caught her dozing in a sunny spot the other day, and I swear she’s beefing with Al Capone. Plus, sometimes she makes this weird sound like she’s got a hairball stuck in her throat.”
“I do not!” Wil scrunched her face in mock outrage, before nuzzling her son’s head in a most catlike manner.
“Ugh! Stop!” Brody pushed her off, but Arthur caught him smiling nonetheless. He got up to join Nora and Quinn, who were deep in a discussion about Love Is Dead. “You guys seriously watch that? It seems so boring.”
Sal gasped, scandalized. “How could my own grandson say something so horrible!”
“He’s not your grandson,” Arthur reminded Sal, though he wasn’t sure why he bothered.
“Of course he is. Rumble is my very own daughter, the fruit of my loins.”
Brody pulled a face, which Arthur thought was an appropriate response.
“What will you do for a mascot now?” Wil asked, amused. “I don’t think you can put a costume on Grumble.”
“I am still working on that technology, it’s true,” Sal said wistfully. “I think Arthur and I will have to take a trip to the shelter soon.”
“Whatever the case, we shall check with all the witches we know to ensure any new pets aren’t humans trapped in small furry bodies,” Arthur added.
“Maybe this time you’ll get a dog,” Theo chimed in.
Arthur found himself agreeing. He’d always liked dogs, though now that Theo had suggested it, he’d have to put up a bit of a fight. He had a reputation to maintain, after all.