Inheritance (The Lost Bride Trilogy, #1)(119)

“And I wonder, if I’d kept walking last night, if I’d have ended up … somewhere else for a while. I think next time, don’t wake me up.”

“Oh, Sonya.”

“It’s not Hester Dobbs doing that. I’m as sure of that as any of this. Breaking the curse—and I can hardly believe I’m saying curse—means finding the rings. The more I see, hear, feel? It seems it matters.”

“If it happens when I’m not here, call me,” Trey said to Cleo. “And stay with her. I need a key. I need to be able to get into the house.”

“Oh.”

Because her knee-jerk remembered doing just that with Brandon, she shoved it aside.

Trey wasn’t Brandon. He wasn’t anything like Brandon.

“All right. Yeah, that makes sense, too. I’d as soon not go wandering at three a.m. to a … slip in time. But I feel better about it knowing the two of you would be here.”

She shook her head. “And I have to think about something else. Like doing the dishes and taking the dogs out.”

The kitchen, not unexpectedly, sparkled when they went back.

“Should’ve known. Molly’s fast. I’d feel better walking Yoda until I’m sure that bird doesn’t come back.”

“I’ll get my jacket.”

“And,” Cleo said when Trey walked away, “I’ll make myself scarce.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Please. I’m going to take an hour to paint, then maybe go watch something on my tablet or read. And try not to be jealous you have a man to curl up with. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Dinner was so good, Cleo.”

“It damn well was.”



* * *



The humans walked; the dogs romped.

As they circled the house, Sonya looked up at the lights in Cleo’s studio.

“It’s so nice knowing she’s up there. All that goes on in the house barely fazes her.”

“It’s good you have someone steady with you.”

She tilted her head to look up at him. “A lot of people—most, really, at least at first—don’t think of Cleo as steady. But she is. Her mind’s wide open to everything, which makes an interesting combo with the steady. I got lucky being assigned as her roommate in college.”

“From where I see it, you both did.”

“I’m going to agree with that. When I walked in, the first day, she’d already set up her side of our very tiny room. Some of her artwork on the wall, a little shelf with crystals and photos and books, and a pillow on the fluffy red duvet that read: IMAGINE.

“I’d never shared a room before,” she added as they herded the dogs into the house. “So I was nervous about it, and how we’d get along. Both art majors, so I knew we’d have that. But I grew up in Boston and she came from Louisiana. Who knew? Then I saw her art and I knew we’d definitely have that.”

After wiping off the paws, Sonya straightened. “And she gave me Xena.”

“The plant in the library.”

“She was just a little thing back then. Cleo’s grandmother had started her from another African violet, and told Cleo to give it to her roommate. That she was good luck. And to be sure I named her. When I said Xena, Cleo lit right up. By the time I’d unpacked, it was like we’d known each other forever.”

The dogs raced up the stairs ahead of them.

“You did get lucky. My first college roommate was … let me think of the right word for him. Oh yeah, prick. A sanctimonious prick.”

“This surprises me. You strike me as someone who finds a way to get along with everybody.”

“I was white, straight, from a solid family—and tax bracket—he assumed were his type of Christians. He figured I was one of his group—that is, opposed to anyone who wasn’t all of the above. After several weeks of trying to ignore, argue with, or block his bullshit, I told him I was bi, an atheist, my great-grandfather was Paiute, and my parents had an open marriage. He moved out, and that’s how I got along with him.”

Fascinated, Sonya paused at the door of the library. “You lied to him.”

“It was that or punch him in the face. Seeing the shock on that face was nearly as satisfying as punching it. Anyway, I got another roommate, and we got along fine.”

“Do you know where he ended up? The sanctimonious prick?”

“Never gave him another thought.”

“I believe that. I believe you have that power. Okay, come see what you think of how I’ve built your web page. It’s not ready to go live,” she told him. “I still have some additions, some tweaks, then testing, but you’ll get the feel.”

She brought it up on her screen, stepped to the side.

“It’s already a big step up, and a major change in that feel. You were right about using the offices, the house. And the colors, the font. It’s not fussy, but it’s not bland.

“I like that you’ve put the year the firm was established right up front.”

“When you’ve got a half century in business, you flaunt it. Try the Attorneys tab.”

When he clicked on it, he smiled. “Look at Ace.”

“Your mom’s in danger of becoming my go-to photographer. I had others to choose from, but this was my favorite. If there are any changes needed to the front-page text or any of the bios, just send them to me.”