Page 45 of A Wolf After My Own Heart
“Wow,” Devoss had said when she’d handed him his mug, which had been topped with whipped cream, sprinkled with chocolate shavings, and for a finishing touch, Lila had wedged a vanilla wafer into the cream. “What even is this? It’s not a drink, it’s a dessert course.”
Thanks. The second Caro finished her note, she was again snout deep in her mug.
“It’s Flanders’s cocoa. You guys watchThe Simpsons, right?”
“Only the first ten seasons,” Devoss replied. “The rest is dreck.”
“Yikes. Okay, there’s an episode where Ned Flanders makes Homer some hot chocolate, and he goes all out: whole milk, chopped chocolate—not powder—and the works, whipped cream and everything. So I call it Flanders’s cocoa.”
But now the drinks were done, and Dev in particular looked glassy-eyed. It had prompted Lila’s offer, which Macropi was still mulling.
“That would be… I’d—we’d like that. Yes. Thank you.” She let out a breath. “We would very much like to take you up on that, m’dear.”
“You’reconsideringthis?” Annette asked, amazed.
“Considered,” Lila corrected. “Past tense. Decision’s been made, clearly. Try to keep up, Garsea.”
“It’s absurd!” she protested. “Mama, I’ll put all of you up in a hotel. I’d have you over in a nanosecond, but you know my place is still under renovation because, ah, things happened.”
Lila couldn’t imagine what that meant. “Things” like a bedbug infestation? Or a paranormal creature infestation? A house fire? Or a wrecking ball? A ravaging pack of fox cubs? Or Girl Scouts?
“Out of the question,” Garsea continued, because she had deluded herself into thinking it was her decision.
“Now don’t you go being stubborn on me, Annette. We’ll be fine here.”
“It’s ludicrous, Mama.”
“Jesus Christ,” Lila said irritably. “I’m not asking you to fill out a wedding registry. Just crash for a couple of nights until you figure out your next step.”
“I trust her,” Macropi replied at once. “She’s had loads of time to hurt us or worse.”
Lila coughed. “I’ve only had three days to hurt you.”
“I’m staying, too,” Oz declared. There was a short silence, broken by Caro’s scribbling. She held up a note, and whatever she’d written caused him to blush a little and shake his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m staying.”
“And now that temporary housing arrangements have been settled…” Lila turned to Devoss. “Go down and tell Sally to just come upstairs already.”
“Uh. Okay.” The boy glanced at the others, who seemed as nonplussed as he was.
“Oh, please, you’ve been flaring your nostrils and inching toward the basement door for a couple of minutes now. You’ve clearly caught her scent.”
“Oh, yes,” Garsea said, giving her an odd look. “Clearly.”
“Not to mention, you guys would have been far more freaked if youhadn’tknown Sally was lurking in my basement.”
“Mmmm,” Garsea mmmm’d.
When Devoss was basement-bound, Macropi tugged on Lila’s wrist. “I haven’t had a chance to thank you for what you did for us tonight.”
“This morning. And I didn’t do anything. You guys had it all under control. The only reason Devoss might’ve needed help—which he didn’t—was because he went back for his bear.”
Oz, who’d shrugged out of his rumpled, stained suit jacket and hung it on the peg next to Lila’s scarf, turned back. “How the hell did you know that?”
“It’s the only thing he brought.” Too late, Lila realized she might have accidentally gotten Devoss busted. She’d promised him she wouldn’t say anything about Operation Osa.
“Oh. Right.”
She didn’t sigh with relief, but it was close. Oz thought she meant “brought out of the fire,” and she decided not to disabuse him. But at the first opportunity, Devoss was getting a patented “inanimate things are not worth your life, no matter how precious, never ever go back into a burning house or I will murder youso much” lecture. “Right. So we talked about sleeping arrangements before you got here, Macropi. Garsea, I guess you’re welcome to stay, too. Just try to refrain from pawing through my underwear drawer.”
