away. Away from thinking, wanting, wishing, questioning.
Idle hands do the devil’s work, I reminded myself, heading into town. There was always something to do here. Something to repair, something to clean. Deyva, Azariah, my past failures—none of it compared to making sure families had heat for the winter, or food for their children.
Christ worked in the service of others. He worried for nothing, because he had nothing but God’s love. Had I been standing on a pulpit as I did years ago, I might have preached about learning to give for the sake of giving, and not to take in hopes of filling a void. It was a lesson I often needed to remind myself of.
I headed for the house where Deyva had removed the tree branch from the roof. When was that, today? Yesterday? Everything from before watching her snuff that demon seemed like a different time period altogether.
“Morning, Father,” Dan Phillips greeted, neatly stacking firewood logs in a hitch trailer as I approached.
“Morning,” I grumbled in return, realizing I hadn’t had my usual second cup of coffee with our heated discussion at the cottage. “What needs doing?”
The middle-aged man turned around slowly, scratching his head. “Well, we’ve got all the wood chopped from the branch the little demon girl brought down. I got Kyle raking up the leaf litter for compost, the wife’s canning in the cellar, and once I get this stacked up, I’m gonna go around the neighborhood to stock everyone up.” He returned to look at me with a shrug. “I think we’ve got it covered.”
I bounced on my toes. There was always something that needed to get done.
“How about that generator? I know you were concerned about it a little while ago.”
“Ah.” He waved a hand. “Once you got that wind turbine up and running, it started taking in juice again, so turned out to be nothing.”
I nodded, my teeth gritting. “How about your neighbors? Anyone need appliances fixed? Dry rot in the walls? Anything?”
“Um, I don’t think so, Father. But if anything comes up, we’ll be sure to let you know.”
Well, fuck.
I jerked my chin down in a sharp nod. “All right then. We’ll see you Sunday.”
“God bless, Father.”
Yeah, sure.
Something bright orange and yellow caught my eye as I started to turn. The flowers with their ruffled petals planted next to the Phillips’ house. Deyva had been so careful not to drop the tree branch on them.
I like marigolds, she had said.
“Hey Dan?”
“Yes, Father?”
I pointed to the wheelbarrow of mulched leaves and bark next to the flower bed. “Are you gonna pull those flowers up?”
“Yeah, it’s getting late in the season for ‘em and Jenny wants to plant spicy peppers there next year, so she wants to—”
“I’ll take them.” The words left my mouth before I could change my mind.
“Oh, sure. Go ahead.”
The next thing I knew, I was headed back toward the cottage with a fistful of marigolds, their musky aroma clinging to me as I stepped inside the now-empty dining room and made my way to the kitchen sink. Rinsing the dirt off their roots, snipping the stems with a small pair of gardening shears—I told myself it was all just to do something, to keep myself busy.
I kept telling myself this, even as I found an empty pitcher in the top cupboard, filled it halfway with water, and stuck the flowers in it. Only when I placed the pitcher in the center of the dining room table and entertained the thought of wondering if she’d like them, did I realize how fucked I was.
“What the fuck am I doing?” I grumbled, turning to leave again.
“Kais?”
I should have continued on my un-merry way and pretended not to hear her. But my feet stopped at the way Deyva said my name, the curious inflection in her voice.
“Hey,” I grunted casually. “Where did everyone go?”
“Stav is napping upstairs.” She tilted her head, horns pointing toward his room. “I think I wore him out. From actual sex, not feeding.”
“Ah, well thank you for clarifying.”
She bit her lip in the wake of a smile. “I think Zach went back to the church. Azariah, I’m not sure. But if he’s causing trouble, I’m sure we’ll find out.”
“I’m sure we will,” I agreed.
Deyva was still wearing Stavros' shirt, and likely nothing else underneath, as my lizard brain enjoyed reminding me. Her eyes trailed from me to the flowers in the center of the table, widening as her mouth fell open.