Chapter Three #3
“It’s a lot,” Cleo said. “We had some of it, but it’s a lot.” She handed Sonya two cloth grocery bags. “Why are we making pulled pork and all the rest?”
“Actually, I have to make it because it was my deal. But I’m counting on your help. Oh, you got flowers, too.”
“I got flowers, too. Took two more paintings into Bay Arts, bought the cutest pair of sandals I don’t need but want, stopped by the bakery, so we’re having double fudge brownies with our popcorn.”
As she reeled it off, they walked through the house, set things down, walked out for the rest. Like Yoda, Pye decided it was time for a nap and trotted upstairs.
“Now, why did I buy a boneless pork shoulder?”
“I bribed Owen and Trey. Ryder wants more photos.”
Cleo frowned. “Is something wrong with what they have?”
“No, everything’s right, so right they want more. This includes you. Other yoga poses—free outfit. Outdoor setting. Maybe you sailing The Siren, or lounging outside with a book. Free outfit either way.
“You’re in, right?”
“Sorry, I lost track after free outfit. Of course I am! Fun. Which isn’t the reaction you’d get from either Owen or Trey. So food bribery.” She offered a hand for a high five. “Smart.”
“I hope I think so Saturday when I try to pull this—ha-ha—off.”
“I’m getting free outfits so I’ll be your sous chef. Now, let’s get the rest of this put away. I’m ready to paint.”
“I’ll take care of the flowers. I’ve put a good day in so far. Long virtual meeting to get this rolling. She tried to screw it up.”
Cleo glanced back as she put things in the pantry. She didn’t have to ask who. “How?”
“Banging, slamming, doorbell ringing. I said stuff about thunderstorms, then electric glitches, old houses. I guess they bought it—because we just kept going.”
“That’s what we do. We keep going. Let me know before if you come up to the studio.”
“Sure. Why?”
“I’m working on something I want to keep to myself for now. If you’ve got the flowers, I’m heading up.”
“I’ve got them. I’ll knock off when you do. Or if you work later, I’ll come down and start on the photos.”
“Works.”
Cleo glanced outside at the first rumble of thunder. “And I beat the storm. A good thunderstorm’s like good music. It energizes.”
Thunder grumbled again as Cleo left, and Sonya tended to the flowers as the storm built. Yoda came down and stuck close as she placed the fresh arrangements.
While Clover played Springsteen’s “Thunder Road,” she carried arrangements to her bedroom and to Cleo’s.
Though Molly had closed the windows to prevent the rain from coming in, Sonya couldn’t resist.
She threw open her balcony doors, let the wind whip. Wrapped in it, she watched the storm lash and slash over the sea.
The angry sky hurled lightning so the air snapped. The lightning called the thunder that roared—a pack of lions—over sea and land. Rain drummed in a mad rhythm outdone only by the crash of waves on the rocky shore.
“It’s beautiful, and it’s terrible.” Because he trembled a little, she picked Yoda up to cuddle. “And it’s real power.”
She kissed his nose. “Let’s go put the new mood board together. And don’t you worry. The manor’s stood against countless storms.”
She glanced up as she carried the dog out with her.
“And it’s going to keep standing.”
In contrast to the afternoon storms, the evening moved smooth and quiet. And ended with laughter and sighs as the credits rolled on a clever and frothy rom-com.
Comfortable in pj’s, Sonya let out one more sigh. “Just what I needed. How about you?”
“Bull’s-eye. I love men, and I’m especially fond of the two who come around here. But there’s just nothing like a girls’ night. This one hit all the marks.”
“One more left to hit.” Sonya reached for the wine bottle and poured the last of it into their two glasses. “How about we take this wine, our faithful companions, and have ourselves a walk around outside?”
“The perfect nightcap.”
Yoda scrambled up when they switched off the TV, then raced down the steps from the second floor of the library. Danced in a circle.
Pyewacket took her time. She stretched, she considered, then poured herself off the couch like water from a jar.
When they reached the front door, the dog shot out like a cannonball while the cat slunk out and into the shadows.
Sonya breathed in the night.
“Everything’s so clear now. We’ve got the moon, the stars, the sea.”
“And our own little stars with our fairy lights. They bring the joy. We’ve had a good day, Son,” Cleo added as they began to walk.
“Damn good day. We hold on to good days, and we’re going to keep piling them up. I like knowing we’ve got that box of photos for Clarice Poole to go through, and one for the Doyles.”
“It’s fun going through them. Looking at the hairstyles, the clothes. You know what’d be nice? If when we really start digging through—trunks, drawers, closets—we found some photos of the staff who’ve worked here.”
“Oh! We’d put them in the gallery! There’s bound to be at least a few somewhere. The manor wouldn’t be the manor without them. We’ll start looking.”
When they reached the back, Sonya stopped. “Speaking of looking.”
Lights sparkled on the pergola; solar lanterns and lamps glowed.
“We did good work here, Son. We had a hell of a foundation, but we added to it.”
“In all my dreams about living in a big old house, I never imagined I’d have the ocean out front and all this back here.”
“It’s a jewel, and we’re going to keep polishing it.”
Yoda let out a growl, a snarl. At Cleo’s feet, Pye arched her back, hissed.
Out of the shadow of the house it came, eyes glinting red.
“Sweet Jesus.” Cleo grabbed for Sonya’s hand. “Is that a wolf?”
Dark as the night, it stood between them and the manor. The pretty lights glinted on fangs, long and sharp.
“It’s not real,” Sonya managed, because she wanted to believe it.
“Real or not, it’s in the way. Back up slow. I don’t think throwing wineglasses at it will do much. We need a rock, a big, thick stick. Something.”
As they took a step back, the wolf, dark as the night, stalked forward.
Yoda’s barks grew vicious, guttural in a way Sonya hadn’t known he had in him.
“We have to stay calm,” she said as she struggled not to just cut and run. “She wants fear.”
“Hard not to give it to her. But … why didn’t it just jump us from behind? Maybe it can’t. Just can’t.”
It looked at her, Sonya thought, with a kind of feral hunger that turned her blood to ice. “I don’t have it in me to test that theory.”
In that moment, to her shock, Yoda, snarling, snapping, charged forward. “Oh God, no.”
Even as she rushed after her dog, the cat streaked by her.
Both cat and dog leaped, and what had been the wolf dissolved into smoke.
Because her legs gave way, Sonya sat on the grass. “She didn’t expect that. She didn’t factor that in.”
Yoda sniffed at the smoke, sneezed twice, then hurried over to Sonya.
“They protected us.” She gathered Yoda into her arms. “A little dog and a snooty cat.”
“She wanted us to run.” Cleo picked up Pye and stroked. “It was close, but we didn’t. She wanted us to scream—again hair’s breadth, but we didn’t. And you’re right, she didn’t expect a sweet little dog and a slinky cat to fight.”
“But they did.” Steadier, Sonya got to her feet. “A damn good day.”
“That’s right.” Stepping over, Cleo tapped her glass to Sonya’s. “Here’s to us and our fierce defenders.”
With a nod, Sonya drained her glass.