Page 34 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
They clinked bottles, and the desert beyond the windows held its breath.
CHAPTER 9
THE MORNING SUN crept through the blinds, falling across two women tangled in blankets on the pullout sofa, and one very awake dog, agitatedly prancing in circles like he was reliving a smaller, fluffier version of last night’s horror movie.
They hadn’t made it through the whole VHS. Just long enough for the mutant cannibals to make a strong impression. Whatever sleep they got was shallow, full of half-starts and twitchy dreams.
Nora groaned as she sat up. Her mouth was dry, her limbs heavy, her thoughts dulled by the lingering haze of booze and weed. She hadn’t dreamt of him, or at least not that she remembered. She was grateful for that, or tried to be. The quiet in her chest felt like both relief and withdrawal.
She tiptoed around the bed, careful not to disturb Lauren, who was starfished on her back, snoring softly, one arm flung over her face. Miso trotted behind Nora into the kitchen, tail wagging expectantly.
“Alright, alright,” she mumbled, digging out his food. “One scoop for you, one pot for me.”
As the coffee brewed, Nora crouched to fill Miso’s bowl and scratched behind his ears. “You little narc,” she whispered. “Might’ve been my only shot at a hot tub makeout, and you went full Cujo.”
Behind her, a loud snort echoed from the living room. Lauren flopped over on the sofa bed, a tangled mess of curls and blankets, blinking blearily toward the kitchen. “Tell me that smell is coffee and not some kind of desert hallucination.”
Nora smirked. “Only the finest drip. You want first pour?”
“I want to die,” Lauren groaned, dragging herself upright. “But yeah, I’ll take a cup while I do it.”
Nora handed her a steaming mug. “It’s probably not strong enough to exorcise whatever the hell was in that tequila, but it’ll keep you vertical.”
Lauren took a sip, then winced. “Jesus. This could wake the dead.”
Nora raised an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Lauren laughed. Miso hopped up beside her, tail still twitching, and she absently reached down to scratch his head.
After a beat, she glanced toward the sliding door. “So… we locking the doors from now on, or pretending that didn’t happen?”
Nora hesitated. “Both?”
“Fair.” Lauren took another sip. “Honestly, I was probably just high. That weed hit like a damn freight train. And this place… it messes with your head.”
Nora nodded slowly. “Yeah. It does.”
Lauren looked at her for a long moment. “You okay, Vale?”
Nora thought about lying. Instead, she said, “I think I’m figuring some things out. But I’m not crazy. Just… tuned in.”
Lauren sighed. “I’m still gonna worry. But okay. You’re the weirdest person I know, anyway. Wouldn’t expect your desert sabbatical to be normal.”
Nora cracked a smile. “Thanks, I think.”
The coffee was strong enough to peel paint. But Nora was already halfway through her second cup by the time Lauren managed to dress, brush her teeth, and get her sunglasses on straight.
“I’m just saying,” Lauren muttered as she climbed into the passenger seat, “if I end up in a newspaper article with thephrase ‘mysterious desert disappearance,’ you better make sure they use my good headshot.”
Nora snorted. “The one with the rose quartz and the raccoon tail?”
“Obviously.”
The drive into town felt almost normal. The sun was already blazing, not a cloud in the sky. Lauren queued up playlists with titles likeWitchy Desert VibesandHot Girl Summoning Energy, and Miso barked whenever the bass dropped.
At the diner, the old bell jingled overhead as they stepped into the cooled interior. Nora felt the change like a pressure drop. The air-conditioned air, the sizzle of bacon, the low murmur of cowboy gossip. Safe. Or at least, daylight safe.
Gloria didn’t even glance up from the coffee pot. “Well, well. The prodigal witch returns. And brought a familiar.”
