Chapter 17
Seventeen
“I have a bad feeling about this…”
Over three cups of black coffee, he grumbled about the turd in my basement and the second shitter, all part of a concerted effort to gross me out and knock me out of the running for mayor. If conspiracy theories had him up all night, no wonder he looks so rough today.
“Did you dream about turds in the North Pole again?” I tease, flipping through my collection of winter stockings. I’m still hiding out in his apartment, but we’d snuck back to my place that morning to pick through my closet.
“Don’t go to the parade,” Elliot had said, watching me go back and forth between my favorite vintage red velvet A-line dress and an icy blue number with white fur trim.
I hold each dress up in front of me. “I’m thinking the red one,” I frown, “except I always wear this one around Christmas. People are going to think I’m an outfit repeater. ”
Watching from the threshold, Elliot drags his fingers through his hair. He’s the picture of anxiety: hunched shoulders, ceaseless thumbnail nibbling. “You wore red in my dream. Go for the blue dress. Better yet: don’t go.”
“I have to attend the parade. I’m riding on the mayor’s float.” I wrinkle my nose. “With Ivan. It’s going to be pretty awkward if you ask me. Fortunately, we’re on opposite ends of the float.”
Elliot steps into my bedroom, takes my dress choices by the hanger and sets them down on my bed. “Given the circumstances, you should stay under the radar.”
I sigh. “I thought you told me not to back down from this election.”
“I still stand by what I said,” Elliot assures me, “but this Christmas parade…” He shakes his head. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“What did you even dream about?”
Elliot frowns. “It’s hard to describe,” he says, massaging his temples, “but I saw you in a red dress, sprawled on an inflatable penguin… snow falling around you… the crowd in chaos, people running all over the place, screaming…”
I blink. “You dreamt that someone tried to assassinate me?”
“Yes. No.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Maybe?”
“Elliot…” I urge him to sit down on the edge of my bed and pick my dress choices back up. “Someone defecated under my Christmas tree.”
“And in your basement,” he reminds me.
“The culprit is a coward… a sadist, but a coward. They can only hide behind Christmas trees or sneak into my basement under cover of night. What are they going to do? Take a dump on my float in broad daylight? In front of the entire town? Knock me over and take a shit on my chest?”
A reluctant smile ghosts his lips. Heaving a heavy sigh, Elliot runs his hands up and down his thighs. “I suppose you have a point.”
I pat him on the shoulder. “It’s just a stupid dream. I have tons of them.”
“Except I never have dreams.” He stares at the carpet, his brows furrowed in thought. “It’s only after you gave me that crystal…”
“The amber?”
“What the hell am I talking about? Crystals and dreams…” He shakes his head. “Look, just be careful, alright? Be aware of your surroundings. If you see anything or hear anything—”
“I’ll duck for cover.”
Elliot mashes his lips together, watching me debate between the two dresses. “And do me a favor…”
“What?” I meet his gaze in the mirror.
“Don’t wear the red dress.”