Page 7 of The Tenant
“Blake,” Quillizabeth says, “are you aware that the sugar in cookies is both toxic and highly addictive? If sugar were introduced to the market right now, the government would never approve it for consumption. You may as well lick the sidewalk outside your house.”
Has sheseenthe sidewalk outside our house? But fine. Don’t have a cookie then.
“Also,” she adds, “cookies areloadedwith saturated fats and empty calories.”
As she says those words, she looks pointedly at my abdomen. I glare at her and decide to go ahead and take another cookie for myself.
“Anyway,” she says, “you said in the advertisement that you have a single furnished room available?”
“Yeah,” I confirm between bites of the cookie. “But actually, we may have someone already. So…uh…you know, I don’t want to waste your time.”
Quillizabeth licks a finger and holds it up in the air. “It’s quite drafty in here, isn’t it?”
“Uh, I hadn’t noticed.”
“You know what that is, don’t you?” Her expression is deathly serious, like she’s telling me the secrets of the universe. “It’s all the past owners who have lived here before you. They create quite the draft, milling about. I can help you get rid of them with a simple channeling ceremony once I move in. That will get rid of the draft”—she snaps her fingers—“just like that.”
Krista chooses this moment to come out of our bedroom, wearing a brand-new shirt that looks almost identical to the one she had on before, except no flour this time. Why does it take women so long to change clothes? I could change my shirt in five seconds, maybe less.
“Is that Elizabeth?” she calls out as she sprints down the steps.
“Quillizabeth,” I mumble under my breath.
Krista descends the last of the steps, and when Quillizabeth looks at her, it’s with the only shred of approval I’ve seen since she stepped into the house. “My dear!” Quillizabeth exclaims. “You are such a pretty girl!”
“Thank you,” Krista says as her cheeks go pink. The woman has good taste, I’ll give her that. Krista holds out one of her pale hands. “My name is Krista. It’s so good to meet you, Elizabeth.”
“Quillizabeth,” she says.
They shake hands, but a split second after their palms make contact, Quillizabeth yanks her hand away as if she’s been scalded. She stumbles back, her hands trembling.
“I…” Quillizabeth’s voice has gone suddenly hoarse. “I actually have to go. This place…it’s too small. I won’t be renting it after all.”
Thank God. Maybe I’ll nab another cookie. “Okay, it was nice meeting you,” I say, trying not to sound too pleased.
But Krista frowns. “Is everything okay? You haven’t even seen the bedroom yet.”
Quillizabeth shifts her gaze to look at me, and there is real fear in her eyes. When she turns back to Krista, her tone is urgent. “Could I…speak to you outside, Krista dear?”
Krista looks at me for permission, and I shake my head no. “What is it?” Krista asks.
Quillizabeth takes another step back. “Outside.Please.”
Her watery eyes are locked with Krista’s. What the hell is wrong with this lady? I’m sorry I even invited her in. Once the salt shaker came out, I should have slammed the door in her face.
“Look, Quillizabeth,” I say. “We have another prospective tenant coming soon, so…”
“He’s going to kill you,” the older woman blurts out. “Blake is going tokillyou, Krista. You have to get away from here.”
5
What.The. Hell?
Did this lunatic just come into my own home and tell my fiancée that I’m going tokillher? This is horseshit.
Quillizabeth is standing rigidly in our living room, her entire body shaking. It’s almost like she’s having a seizure. I’d call an ambulance, but then we’d never get her out of here.
“He’s going to stab you with a kitchen knife.” Quillizabeth points a shaky finger at the rug beneath our feet. “It’s going to happen righthere. I saw a vision of him crouching over your body, watching you bleed to death.”
