probably focus on the bigger cities where the population is larger.”
“I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” She finished her pie and leaned back in her chair. “It’s two a.m. I’m beat and you look totally exhausted.”
“I am, and I’m covered with bruises, thanks to that fight. Herne wants us to watch the press conference at nine, but we can watch from bed. Why don’t you come in my room in the morning? We’ll curl up under the blankets and watch from there.” I helped her carry the dishes over to the sink.
“That sounds like fun. Like when we were in college.”
“Those days seem so long ago,” I said, thinking back to the days when we roomed together in school. Angel had left college early to help her mother. I had lived with Mama J. and Angel from the time I was fifteen, when my parents were murdered, until both Angel and I left for college.
“They do, but you know what? I’ll bet when we’re fifty, this time will seem just as far away to us.” She slipped her arm through mine and we headed toward the stairs, waking Mr. Rumblebutt up from where he was sleeping on the bottom stair. He followed us up the rest of the way. As I peeled off toward my room and Angel headed into hers, Mr. Rumblebutt joined me, jumping on the bed and kneading the blankets as I pulled off my robe and crawled beneath the light sheet.
Outside, the thunder and lightning continued. We didn’t often get massive thunderstorms, but when we did it electrified the air, charging it like a battery. I slipped back out of bed to open my window a crack. There was a screen on the outside so that Mr. Rumblebutt couldn’t get loose. As I watched the rain pour down, beating a tattoo against the side of the house, another fork of lightning split the sky, lighting up the night with a brilliant pink flash. A white flash followed, and thunder rolled through the air, shaking the house.
Mr. Rumblebutt meowed anxiously, so I returned to bed where he curled up in my arms, burrowing his head into my armpit to hide from the storm. I petted him gently, trying to soothe him.
“It’s okay, Mr. R.,” I said. “Everything will be okay, little man.” I just wished I could believe my own words.
Chapter Nine
Morning brought with it fresh air, and the thunderstorm had passed, disappearing around three in the morning. As tired as I was, I had found it difficult to sleep. Finally, as the storm abated, so did my anxiety and I dropped into a light slumber and then, fully to sleep.
I squinted as the alarm went off. It was eight forty-five. I forced myself to sit up, groaning against the morning light that streamed through the window. It looked like August was going to be typical—a day or so of rain, but mostly dry and sunny. It was generally Seattle’s hottest month of the year. At least the air smelled sweet and fresh, and there was a briskness that the storm had left in its wake.
I stumbled out of bed and went to the bathroom, then pulled on my robe and climbed back into the tangle of sheets. I stared at the bedframe for a moment, thinking I might want to buy a new one, but then it occurred to me that within a little over a year, Herne and I would be married. Maybe I should wait until we could choose one together.
Lost in the world of window-shopping for furniture, I didn’t notice the time was ticking by until Angel tapped on my door.
“Come in,” I said, shaking the thoughts of four-posters versus sleigh beds out of my mind.
Angel was still in her nightgown, too, but she was carrying an iced latte for me, and an iced tea for herself. She handed me the drink and motioned for me to scoot over. I saw that she was also carrying a bag of half a dozen doughnuts, along with a handful of napkins, so she must have been up early to go out. I held her drink as she climbed into bed, then flipped on the remote.
“Here’s hoping the news isn’t a mega-mess today,” I said.
“Here’s hoping the world isn’t a mega-mess today,” Angel answered.
She handed me a doughnut and took one for herself as I flipped around to find the local news station. A glance at the clock on my phone