Portals and Puppy Dogs - Amy Lane Page 0,47
And Gabby, his business partner, and Audra, his roommate. I think they want to help Bartholomew bake.”
Bartholomew tilted his head back and groaned. “God, that’s nice of them. But I can’t believe I’ve got a gig tomorrow!” Usually he showed up at conventions to sell prewrapped baked goods on the vendor floor. In this case, he was booked at an autumn craft fair for the same thing. Lachlan was booked at the same venue. They usually ended up next to each other, which was how they’d met and fallen in love. He turned to Lachlan, brows knit unhappily. “And you should go home,” he said. “I mean—”
“I’ll get up early and go fetch my stuff,” Lachlan said. “Don’t worry. You and me can sleep on Jordan’s couch together.”
Bartholomew gave him a sweet look. “You’re so awesome,” he said, and the rest of the people in the room groaned good-naturedly.
“Time to get up,” Jordan said. “They’re too cute for words, and we’ve sucked up enough of Bartholomew’s time. All right, everyone—clean the kitchen first, disinfect everything, and let’s let Barty gather his stuff.”
“Break!” they all said tiredly and stood up, shifting gears.
But that didn’t mean that as they worked, they didn’t pause and examine the picture on the table when each person thought the others weren’t looking. Alex knew that, for himself, he was constantly comparing the memories of what he knew had happened to what apparently could have also happened.
In every memory, Dante and Cully were happier when they were lovers instead of friends.
Shifting into the Whirlwind
CHRIS came too, and Simon made him, Gabby, and Audra come in a separate vehicle. He parked his Prius in front of Jordan’s little cottage and waited for Gabby to park across the cul-de-sac in front of Kate and Josh’s house, his arms crossed, his expression bad tempered.
“What?” Gabby said as she alighted from her SUV. “You look pissed.”
He cuddled Glinda to his chest and let the little creature lick his face. “You guys can’t make fun of them,” he said as they got closer. “This… this witch thing. It’s very real to them. It’s very real, period. Alex almost stopped speaking to me yesterday because I didn’t take it seriously. I just….” He grimaced and then glared at Gabby and Chris, who tended to take things lightly, perhaps for the same reason he tended to wear black turtlenecks and T-shirts.
Everybody had their armor, didn’t they?
“We’ll be kind,” Gabby said, and she looked earnest for a moment, like the girl he’d met in prep school. Audra nodded soberly behind her, and even Chris appeared abashed.
“Look, the dog showed up at my doorstep, and Alex sounded frantic. Something obviously happened. I just, you know, want to see.” Simon huffed out a breath. “Also, we’re helping Bartholomew bake for an event tomorrow. If there’s nothing for you to do, stay out of the way in the living room, okay? The kitchen’s been remodeled. It takes up half the house.”
“Is that why the garage has been sealed?” Chris asked as they progressed down the sidewalk. “And what’s with all the birds? And, oh my God—are those squirrels dead?”
“I think the squirrels are alive,” Simon told him, but he spared a glance for the small pile of rodent carnage that sat in front of Jordan’s curb. “But, uhm, the cats sort of kill everything else.”
“Oh my God,” Audra breathed. “The cats. They’re staring at us.”
Simon scowled at her. “What part of ‘witches’ neighborhood’ did you not hear?”
“I thought you were kidding!” Gabby half laughed. “Oh my God, this is where Alex lives? No wonder you fell for him. This is like… hidden flash, isn’t it?”
Simon smiled faintly. “Yes, exactly. Hidden flash.” Because that was Alex, right? That quiet, competent exterior, that passion underneath, and this, this surprising neighborhood, surprising hobby, surprising involvement with people who weren’t average but were just like Alex—truly original.
Still, Simon was a little trepidatious when he knocked on the door. He needn’t have worried.
Kate was the one who threw the door open, and her first words were “Oh my God, Alex! Your boyfriend brought me women. Come on in.”
What followed was a rapid-fire, raucous round of introductions, punctuated by the yapping dog. Bartholomew was in the kitchen, stacking ingredients on the counters and avoiding all of the noise, and Lachlan was helping him, seeming to shield the shy little baker with his body.
And Alex was at the kitchen table, looking at a sheet of recipes and separating ingredients into piles, with a pile in