Page 29 of Bewicched

I swung it open. “Yes?”

“Can we talk now?” The man was so large, he blocked out the sky.

Stepping back, I waved him in.

He hopped over the gap between the board and the doorsill, and then went to inspect my latest tentacle. “I saw you carry this over. Almost anything this big is going to be heavy. What’s it made of?” He reached out to touch it and then stopped, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Is it okay?”

“Go ahead. I haven’t started sealing it yet.” I collected the tea cups, taking them back to the kitchen. “I use chicken wire to sculpt the frame and then a special plaster all my own.” I wiggled my fingers. “It’s stronger than typical plaster. It requires multiple sessions though. I can’t do it all at once. I need sections to firm and dry before I rotate. I’ve made a million and a half suction cups, but I really like the effect.”

“They’re amazing,” he said, wonder in his voice. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear this was an actual giant sea monster tentacle. The detail…it’s unbelievable.”

“Thanks.”

He picked one up, weighing it in his palm. Turning, he studied me a moment before replacing the tentacle. “You’re stronger than you look. Dad’s DNA?”

I shrugged, pulling two sodas from the fridge and handing him one. “Probably.”

Opening the can, he took a sip and then nodded toward the couch. “Can we talk?”

I led the way, reclaiming my chair.

He sat on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his long legs, the soda forgotten on the table. “How does your mom know I’m a Quinn? I don’t go by that name. And who is this other Quinn you were talking about?”

I glanced over at my tentacle and checked my watch. If I didn’t get started soon, I’d only get one coat on today.

“What?” he asked, following my gaze.

“I’ve got to get started. Can we talk while I work?”

He stood. “Yeah. I’ll help you. You take one end. I’ll take the other. And we’ll meet in the middle.”

I hesitated.

“What now?” Hands on hips, his scowl had returned.

“These are really important to me. If you don’t coat it completely, water will get in and rot my art.”

The scowl deepened. “Are you accusing me of half-assing it?”

“I don’t know that I’maccusingso much as wary of.” I shrugged. “I barely know you. Trust is earned.”

He gestured to the window. “I just protected you from demon seagulls!”

“That’s true,” I said, leaning over to pry off the top of the gallon pail. “And while I appreciate your fighting skills, those don’t really translate to precision painting.”

He huffed out a breath. “I’m building your deck.”

“In theory. In reality, you’ve torn apart my old deck and nailed down some boards. The whole master builder thing has yet to be proven.”

Scratching his beard, he looked down at the floor and then back up at me. “I’m not sure I like you.”

I nodded. “I get that a lot.” I pulled on my work gloves. “How about this. I’ll put in my earbuds, and we’ll talk on the phone while we both do our own work. Okay?”

He stared out the window a moment and then nodded. “That’s a better idea.” He pulled out his phone and waited, brows raised, for my number.

I gave it to him and then waited for mine to buzz. He put his in his shirt pocket, speaker side up, and then buttoned the pocket closed so it didn’t fall out into the water. I went to the kitchen where my earbuds were charging. I put them in, tapped the right one, listened to the startup tone and then heard my back door close.

“Can you hear me?” I went to the door, needing it open before I was asphyxiated by the fumes.

---