Page 47 of A Box of Wishes
He touched the space on the bar where the Box of Wishes would sit for three months of the year. Ryan had put it to sleep with a tribute of incense and cinnamon, to rest undisturbed until the autumn equinox. His sudden need to find a new place to live was not a disaster requiring the help of Fate.
Morris hopped up onto the bar and rubbed his cheek against Ryan’s.
“I don’t know why I don’t want to tell him,” Ryan said, as he lifted the cat off the bar and cuddled him. “Ben is… special. If I tell him, he’ll help. He’ll ask me to stay with him, and that’s not… Not what I want. Not this way. Just because I don’t want to let him go home at night doesn’t mean that he wants to play house with me, right?”
He hadn’t told his parents, either.
His ma would love nothing better than to use his temporary lack of a home to push him and Ben together and Ryan didn’t want that kind of help. He didn’t want to jinx the gossamer accord growing between him and Ben. Ben smiled when he stepped into the coffeehouse, his aura a brighter blue now than it had been since they met. Falling ill or blowing Ben off to go house hunting hadn’t been on his to-do list.
In the end, he called his uncle and explained his situation.
“You know what he’s doing’s illegal, right? He has to give you a lot more notice than that. Do you want me to talk to Dan Green?”
“I don’t want a solicitor. I don’t want to fight over this. I’ve registered with all the local rental agencies. They’ll find me a new place soon enough. I’ll just need—”
“A few brawny lads to help you move out and somewhere to park your stuff?”
“Exactly.” Ryan doodled on a serviette. His da’s brother was the most down-to-earth man he knew and didn’t fuss over things he couldn’t change. He rolled up his sleeves and got on with it. That he had a large van and owned a storage barn helped, too.
“I’m sure we can sort something out. You want to leave as quickly as, right?”
“I have until the twenty-eighth, but—”
“We’ll do it this weekend and send in the cleaners on Monday. Don’t waste your time cleaning the place yourself. Arse of a landlord doesn’t deserve it. And Ryan, if he gives you any more grief, youwilltalk to Dan. Understood?”
“Yes. Thank you. I owe you.”
“Yeah? I’m sure you know how to repay me.”
Ryan remembered the menus and shopping lists from his stint of working the bar on New Year’s Eve. “Pretzel twists?”
“As many as you can knock up before you die of boredom. Bacon, chilli cheese, and cinnamon ones, preferably. They sell like crazy when we put them on the menu.”
“I’ll add them to my list and get you a steady supply.” He’d do more than that if his uncle took care of his possessions and helped with the move.
“Where are you gonna stay while you look for your new place, m’boy?”
“In the shop. It won’t be for long, and I’ve done it before.” That it wasn’t the most comfortable way to live was an excellent incentive to schedule house-hunting time.
“Ben wouldn’t even offer you a bed?”
“Don’t you go say anything to him!”
“Ben doesn’t know that your landlord chucked you out? I assume that’s why you don’t want to tell your parents?” His uncle didn’t sound in the least surprised.
“Ma would go matchmaking,” Ryan grumbled. “And Ben would let me move in.”
“Why is that a bad thing?”
“It should be his choice, not something he’s forced into. He’s already on guard duty all the time. I feel like I just keep taking and taking, and that’s not what I want.”
Declan O’Shaughnessy heaved a sigh. “You’re a right idiot.”
“Maybe. But you won’t tell Ben or my ma?”
“No, I give you my word. I won’t say anything to either of them. Now go home and start packing. We’ll be there in the morning.”
A couple of aspirin and two beef and cheese sandwiches took care of Ryan’s headache. A tall mug of strong black coffee, laced with a generous tot of Redbreast, banished his need to crawl into bed and sleep.
