21 Carl

Lily

“Your door is very round,” Sharkie said as they stepped through the portal door into Lily’s front garden.

“Yeah, isn’t it cool? It’s like a hobbit door.”

“What’s a hobbit?”

“It’s from one of my favorite books, see?” She showed her the door tattooed on her arm. “I think you’d like it; it’s got dragons and dwarves and magic in it.” Lily pushed open the door, following Sharkie inside and bending to pull off her boots. “This is home. Do you want to see your room first, or would you like to explore?”

When Sharkie didn’t answer, Lily turned to find her staring up at the picture of her and her brothers. Lily wiped her hands on her leggings, hoping that the perceptive kid wouldn’t perceive too much.

“Is that your family?” The question was innocent, curious, and punched a hole in her chest. The resulting tide of guilt and shame and love and grief threatened to drown her, pull her down to that cold place that hurt so badly.

She took a deep breath, Lucifer and Bel’s words echoing in her mind, and for the first time tried to swim instead of letting herself sink.

“Yeah, part of it. Those are my brothers, Tommy and Ryan.” Did her voice sound as distant to Sharkie as it did in her own ears? Maybe it sounded so odd because she hadn’t said their names since she’d died.

“You all have red hair?” Sharkie sounded impressed, her little grin sweet.

“Yeah,” Lily choked out. “We got a lot of attention when we went out together because it was unusual to see a pack of redheads.”

We couldn’t get away with anything, we were too easy to spot. I used to threaten them with murder if they touched my leftovers, but I would have killed for them in a heartbeat. I pretended to be asleep towards the end when Tommy came into my room and said all those sweet things he never would have said if I’d been awake. Or would he have?

I hope they don’t miss me as much as I miss them.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset! I’m sorry!” Sharkie’s curiosity evaporated into the all-consuming fear from the Front Desk. Lily cursed herself silently for letting the mask slip.

“No, no, bug, it’s okay,” she soothed, dropping into a crouch. “I’m not mad, it’s okay. I promise.”

Sharkie’s breathing was uneven, hands twisted up in her sleeves, but she listened and nodded. “You looked sad,” she whispered.

Lily offered her hands; Sharkie took them. “Yeah, I was, but it wasn’t your fault. Sometimes you can be sad for a reason that isn’t bad. My brothers are still alive, and I miss them. That’s all. Do you want to take a few deep breaths with me?”

Sharkie nodded.

Lily took a slow breath, held it, and let it go, Sharkie following her lead as they repeated the pattern a few times.

“Better?” Lily asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yep. Now, room or exploring?”

“I’d like to see my room, please—oh, you have a cat!”

Max sauntered around the corner from the living room, chirping a greeting. Within seconds, Sharkie was sitting cross-legged, holding out her hand for him to sniff. He inspected her fingers for only a moment, then crawled into her lap, rubbing his face against hers and purring so loudly Lily heard him by the door.

She smiled. That’s my good boy.

“His name is Max, and he’s the best.”

Sharkie cooed to him, her round little face lighting up with a genuine, unrestrained smile for the first time. “He’s so nice!” She giggled as Max flopped onto his side in her lap, politely demanding belly rubs.

Lily wondered when Sharkie had last smiled and giggled so freely. She cooed over Lily’s ridiculous and beloved cat with such pure glee that Lily found herself protective of that sweet joy. Maybe Sharkie wasn’t technically her kid, but Lily knew she would love her as if she were.

Max was all too happy to be cradled in Sharkie’s arms for the short trip to the guest room, which Lily was mildly surprised to see had transformed itself into a shark-themed haven. Sharkie, on the other hand, nearly dropped the cat.

Lily crouched down again, the sense of occasion making her choose her words carefully. “This room is yours.”

“All mine?”

“You got it.” Lily grinned, then held out her pinkie. Once Sharkie had set Max down and hooked it with her own, Lily continued. “Because this is your room, I will never go in it unless you ask me to, or you give me permission. No one will go into your room without your permission.”

Sharkie looked between her and the room, doubt and fear dimming what Lily had quickly come to think of as the Sharkie Shine. She waited for that quick little mind go to work.

“You promise?”

Lily wiggled their joined pinkies. “Promise. Hey, house, do you hear that? We promise, right?”

To her utter shock, the house groaned in response. Since the little welcome rumble when she’d arrived, it had been otherwise silent while it worked its housekeeping magic. If she’d been alive, she would have hauled ass outside, calling her witchy friends and asking them to cleanse it.

“Cool!” Sharkie jumped up and down excitedly and patted the door frame like it was a dog. “Hi, house! Does the house have a name?”

“Um… House?”

“It needs a name! We should call it Carl.”

The house groaned…happily?

“I think we should keep calling it ‘house,’” Lily said, trying to convince herself that an apparently semi-sentient house was the least freakout-worthy thing to have happened since she got up that morning.

Shark wrinkled her nose doubtfully, taking a few cautious steps into her room before turning around, a question brewing in her eyes. “Can we, um, test it? The room thing?”

Lily frowned, not following.

“The house is going to keep people out of my room too, right? Can we test that?”

“I’m not—”

The house creaked.

Well, okay then.

“Of course we can test it.” Lily stood. She made it to the threshold of the door before she hit an invisible barrier that stretched across the doorway. It had a bit of give to it, so walking into it wasn’t painful, then she was gently pushed back into the hallway. She grinned at Sharkie, then tried and failed to reach through with her hand.

She expected Sharkie to be as gleefully delighted as she’d been when the house—who, semi-sentient or not, Lily flatly refused to call Carl—had groaned in response. Instead, what she saw on her face nearly broke her.

Relief. Pure, simple, unfettered relief .

“You’re safe,” Lily said. Sharkie’s blue eyes brimmed with tears. “You’re safe , Sharkie.”

Sharkie ran through the doorway and wrapped her arms around Lily’s hips, burying her face into her stomach with a sob.

* * *

Lily cradled a steaming mug of tea, peering through the cracked door at the lump on the bed, breathing deep and even. Max, purring in a perfect loaf by Sharkie’s feet, stood guard. He blinked slowly at Lily and resumed his watch.

She smiled, tiptoeing down the hall and easing into the dimly lit library, where the window bed beckoned. She’d ignored her phone since arriving home, but she’d seen it lighting up with a barrage of texts while she got Sharkie settled in. Easing into the bed with a sigh, she scrolled through the bewildering number of messages. Some, like Luci’s, she’d expected.

Luci: I might have spread the word about Sharkie a bit. Bel is rather annoyed with me. How is she?

Others came from more shocking sources.

Gregorith: We’ll be ready for the ones who hurt her. Swell sharks have bio-fluorescent properties that let their skin glow green in the dark.

Luci’s definition of “a bit” seemed like rather an understatement as she read dozens—hundreds—of messages from multiple deities, from multiple pantheons—including several sweet ones from Persephone, from half the Front Desk, a truly astounding number of demons, Cthulhu, Kanaloa, and finally, Bel.

Bel of the Ball: Hey, princess, Lucifer got gossipy (well-intentioned but still). I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what he was doing until it was too late. She’s going to be one loved kid. I have to leave tonight for an unexpected patrol, but I’ll be thinking of you and Sharkie the whole time. I won’t have my phone, so I’ll look forward to talking with you when I get back. Remember: I’m proud of you. You’ve got this. Kick ass and look good doing it.

“I want to kiss you,” she whispered into the quiet privacy of the library, the words sounding dangerous and electric, like admitting it out loud would manifest it into being. She wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to fight that particular truth.

Home and family may not always look the way we imagined they would.

Lily sipped her tea, wondering for the first time if her home and family, wherever and whatever it may be, would be better than she could have imagined.