another broad smile. “Yes! Hardly anyone picks up on that.”
“Really?” Macropi’s striking coloring—dark skin, white hair, light eyes—in conjunction with the homemade treat right out of a Buzzfeed listicle (“Top Ten Australian Treats”, or “Find out what kind of fairy bread you are!”) indicated she could be of aboriginal descent.
“I live just over there,” she added, gesturing vaguely. “And I was so pleased when I found out the Curs House was being rented again.”
“Yours would be the purple house at the end of the block? With the purple birdhouse in front?”
“You’re very smart,” the woman said solemnly, then chuckled. Lila found herself smiling back, which was annoying.
“Naw. Just observant.” Lila had no idea what it was like in Australia, but where she came from, you paid attention or you got locked up. Or worse. “Did I hear you call this the cursed house?”
“It’s the Curs House,” she replied, emphasizing the name. “That’s who owned it back in the day.”
“The landlord’s name is Harriss.”
“Yes, well. The house changed hands now and again.”
“The price was pretty reasonable…” Lila trailed off, inviting gossip.
Macropi didn’t disappoint. “It’s always something with this place. Oh, don’t misunderstand, m’dear! It’s a wonderful house, and I’m so glad to see someone living here again.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yes. The Harrisses have been trying to sell it on and off for a decade or so, but every now and again, they’ll take it off the market and rent it instead. I can’t imagine having to make two mortgage payments, can you?”
Lila, who couldn’t imagine making one, shook her head.
“But something always happens, and then they have to clean up and try to sell it again. The tenants will get a new job halfway across the country. Or they’ll get a new spouse who doesn’t want to live in Lilydale.”
“Understandable.” Lila started to relax.
“Or murdered.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Or the basement floods,” Macropi added thoughtfully. “Or there’s another fire.”
“How many have there been?”
“Or the possums come back.”
“Are you serious?”
“Or they have a problem with all the wildlife coming up from the gorge. We’re right on a nature preserve, you know. There’s all kinds of creatures around.”
“Jesus Christ.” Then, because little old (?) ladies weren’t usually cool with blasphemy, Lila added, “Sorry. You surprised me.”
“Don’t worry, m’dear. I’m sure you’ll do fine. You said yourself, the price was right. And it’s so charming, don’t you think? Especially if you like wildlife.”
“It’s in a river gorge.” Plus it had a secret garden in the back. And the trees crowded right up to the fence, protecting everyone in the house. And mysterious hot men tended to show up out of nowhere. “How could I say no?”
Another beam. “Exactly! And big enough for you to fill with a family. You should meet one of my boys. He’s an accountant.” Macropi paused, considering. “Well, maybe not anymore.”
“What, he can’t hold a job?”
Macropi ignored the dig. “He would adore you.”
“That’s presumptuous,” Lila observed.
“Well, so is he.”
Lila laughed before she could catch herself. “How’d you know I don’t have a boyfriend?”
“How do you know you won’t like my Oz?”
“Who?”
“He has his own money, you know. He doesn’t have to work at all. He does, though,” Macropi added hastily. “He’s not lazy.”
“Excellent. I certainly don’t want to meet anyone who lives below the poverty level in squalid laziness.”
“You’re teasing, right, dear?” Macropi’s smile fell away as she cocked her head to the side like a rabbit listening for dogs. “Oh. I guess I’d better—you’ve got company.”
“Seems about right for this place.” She heard the door slam and went to look out the doorway. Her landlord’s truck, emblazoned with Harriss & Son on the side, had just pulled in. “So I do. Harriss is here, prob’ly about the screen door.”
“Screen door?”
Oh, very nice. Macropi did an excellent “golly, I only now noticed that incredibly obvious thing in the room” routine. “Yeah, must’ve happened while I was staying downtown last night.”
“—oh.”
The expected follow-up (something along the lines of “why in the world did you sleep somewhere besides your new home last night”) didn’t come, and Lila was pretty sure she knew why. But by now, Harriss had given a cursory knock on the sagging, swinging screen door, then poked his head inside, also doing an impersonation of a man who has seen nothing strange and isn’t being inconvenienced in the slightest. “Morning!”
“It is,” Lila agreed. “Do you want some edible confetti? I’d offer you the fairy bread, but it’s possible I gobbled it all down.”
Harriss wrinkled up his nose, which was broad and almost flat. His