Page 41 of A Better World

“That was the Beltane King, wasn’t it?” Hip whispered once they got in the car.

Linda let out a sigh that meantyup.

“He’s weird. Josie should kick his ass.”

They chuckled.

“We could kick his ass,” Linda said.

“Oh, no,” Hip answered, deadpan. He’d righted his shirt and was running his fingers through his hair. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

As they passed the mansion on their way out, she saw Anouk standing beside Rachel Johnson, John Parson Junior, the handsome man from the crowning, and beady-eyed Jack Lust, all five deep in conversation. The old man gesticulated, his skinny arms shooting out. The others tried to calm him.

Linda slunk down, hoped no one noticed her.

On the way to the next house, they passed Caladrius Park, where she noticed several people openly weeping. Worry gnawed a hole in her stomach and she tuned to PV radio just as an announcement wasending: “Terrible tragedy, folks. They’re in God’s hands now.” Then, classical music started to play.

“And the beam Josie and I hide behind at lunch smells like old food—” Hip said, either oblivious, or so accustomed to radio tragedies that none of it registered as unusual. She rolled the car to a stop. His voice switched from monotone drone to nervous croak. “Is this it?”

Daniella Bennett’s house took up an entire Plymouth Valley block. Stone angels with caladrius wings presided over a gaudy reproduction of a southern antebellum mansion.

“Cathy Bennett’s house?” Linda asked. “I imagine so.”

He pressed his index finger to the bridge of his nose, forgetting that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. It occurred to her right then that he’d left them home on purpose.

“Ready?” she asked.

His body stiff, limbs seeming locked, he opened the door and started walking without answering. She got out, closed her door and his, which he’d forgotten to shut, and rushed to catch up.

“We’re here for Daniella Bennett,” Linda said once the servant, wearing a black butler’s uniform, answered the door. She’d decided to give Hip the chance to ask for Cathy on his own. The kid was so shy that he often gave her a case of sympathy anxiety. In shops he didn’t always ask for help. Instead, he stared at the thing he wanted. Unless some attendant came along and talked softly to him, he eventually walked away, defeated.

The butler seated them on a shallow parlor couch upholstered in red velvet. Thinking about the night before with Gal, and the mood in town, and the scene in front of the Parson house, Linda kneaded her hands, and now they were both nervous.

“If she’s not home we can come back. But you should ask after her as soon as you get the chance,” she said to Hip, just as a girl who had to be Cathy strolled through.

Hip blushed, died a small death.

Cathy froze. She wore a hooded onesie pajama with sunflower petals, all messily handsewn: soft Omnium and bamboo for the body, glazed paper for the petals over the hood. She was a pretty girl, but small and mousy. Nothing like her mother.

“Hi!” Hip said, his voice low and flat. He’d probably intended to sound cool but it came off sullen, like he’d been dragged here against his will.

Cathy yelped. There was an unexpected visitor in her home, and this visitor was a boy from school with a peach fuzz stubble. She rushed out of the foyer, back in the direction from which she’d come.

Linda said nothing. Her timing hadn’t been good. Apologizing would make it worse.

“She interns at the Fabric Collective,” Hip said, low. “She told the class she wants to be a clothing designer, but except for the person who founded the store, that’s not golden ticket track. They do some kind of side job in the back room. They won’t let Cathy help because they say it’s a Hollow secret. It’s not fair. She’s so talented.”

“She’ll figure it out. Her outfit is great. She seems great,” Linda answered, though in truth, the outfit seemed ridiculous.

A second later, Daniella arrived. Appearing under-slept but not hungover, she wore a dark blue robe cinched tight.

“Oh, Linda,” she said in her calm, lush voice. “I was going to call but I didn’t want to be a pest. How are you?”

“Great!” Linda said. “We’re both great! I just wanted to follow up and thank you for last night.”

Daniella laughed. “Totally unnecessary but much appreciated. You must be very resilient. I feel like I got hit with an anvil!”

“That, too.”

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