“Oh, yes,” she said. “Now tell me about Nancy Home Wrecker.”
“Nancy Pearson,” I said. “And she’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad? Didn’t she steal your husband and ruin your life?”
“A lot of things contributed to ruining my life. And he was on his way out anyway.”
“That’s a lame excuse, Sam.”
“Well, the guy is dead, and what happened can’t be changed...and, well, it turns out she’s not that bad.”
Allison, who always got a bit jealous over my other friends, set her fork down. “I thought you were going to tell me about her sadistic ex-boyfriend, not that she wasn’t that bad.”
She rattled on like this for the next few minutes, all while I consumed the second half of my sandwich. When Allison was done ranting and raving, and when I had convinced her that no one would be replacing her “bestie” status anytime soon—which seemed to mollify her—I told her what I’d learned about Nancy’s ex-boyfriend.
“A werewolf?” said Allison, perhaps a little too loudly.
I shushed her. “Yes.”
“Have you talked to Kingsley about him?”
“I will soon,” I said. “He had a lunch meeting today.”
“So, I was your second choice?” asked Allison.
“You’re in rare needy form today,” I said.
“I’m not nee—” She paused. “Okay, maybe a little. What can I say? You either love me or leave me.”
“I love you,” I said. “For now.”
She stuck out her tongue at me as the waitress came by and cleared our table. I enjoyed everything about going out to eat. I treasured the small moments, even the waitress clearing the table, asking if I wanted a refill on my iced tea. I just loved it all. I loved the chatter of women from a nearby table; they were insurance adjusters from the nearby Mercury Insurance office. One of them kept glancing at me, a tall redhead who reminded me of Nicole Kidman. Some people sense I am different; some people have enhanced psychic abilities. They may not understand why I am different, but they feel it, and give me strange looks. Like the redhead just now. I smiled at her. She blushed and gave me a half-smile and busied herself with her salad.
When the waitress was gone, Allison leaned over the table said, “So he’s a bad werewolf?”
“A bad doggy?”
She giggled. “Yes.”
“You could say that,” I said.
In fact, Nancy had said more than that. Apparently, her ex-boyfriend did more than transform each full moon. He killed, too.
“Killed, how?” she asked, reading my thoughts.
“In a cabin in the woods.”
“We have woods here?”
“Arrowhead, ding dong,” I said.
“Oh, right, and don’t be mean.”
I sighed, and continued. “Apparently, he...preps for his turnings.”
“Preps, how?”
“With bodies.”