Chapter Eighteen

I spent the rest of the day sorting through the contents of the Manor's document room. It was more organized than I'd had any right to hope, and I was actually getting excited about the project. Then, at four, my phone rang.

Oh shit. Ricky .

"Heeey, I'm glad you called."

"Uh oh," he replied, a smile in his tone. "Sounds like you're about to bail on our dinner date."

I stood up, pressing a hand to my back where my two nights on the floor and six hours of shuffling crates around were making themselves felt. "A rain check? I'm more beat than I thought I'd be. Guess I've been spending too much time sitting at my laptop and not enough time at the gym. I need to start working out more if I'm going to be deadlifting crates full of papers and books."

"I understand. Don't feel obligated."

"It's not that!" I said hurriedly. "I really do want to go out with you. Get to know you. Get to know more about Ghost. But I'd be lousy company tonight." Especially if I had yet another night on the floor to look forward to.

"Hey, man, like I said. We're cool. Can I give you a call in a day or two, after you've had a chance to get used to your new normal?"

"I'd like that." And I liked that he didn't push. "Thanks."

" De nada . Talk soon."

I sighed as I disconnected the call. I couldn't deny that I was a little let down. I'd been looking forward to seeing Ricky again, but yawning in his face for the entire date was not the way to make an impression.

At just after five, I locked up the document room with the key Saul had given me for the duration of the project. "Considering the scope of what you'll be working with," he'd said with a chuckle, "you might be carrying it for the rest of your life."

I could think of worse fates. Steady work, friendly client, interesting project, and the freedom to shape it the way I'd like? Yeah, I'd take it and run with it as long as I could. Plus, it meant I could turn down that dreadful project that had earned Avi's disdain.

I stuck my head in Saul's office. "Goodnight. I'll be back in the morning, bright and early."

"Excellent." He pushed his keyboard aside. "And Maz? If Avi should manifest again?"

"I'll call you and Professor DeHaven. I promise."

His smile was blinding. Yeah, Jerry was on to a good thing with his husband—although after meeting the doctor-turned-librarian, I was certain the reverse was also true. "Thank you. See you tomorrow."

I whistled as I left the building and climbed into the Civic. I winced and slapped the steering wheel. "Ah, crap."

I'd intended to ask Saul whether it was okay for me to walk across the grounds—it was practically a straight shot from my house to the Manor, albeit through some pretty dense woods. However, I wasn't sure if that was allowed or if there was even a break in the fence that would let me enter without coming all the way around to the main gates, anyway. Even so, a nice brisk walk—as long as it wasn't raining—would be a good way to start my new fitness regime.

"Cardio to go with the weights," I muttered as I turned onto Main Street. "That's a plan."

Since I had to collect Gil from Sofia, I used the fob to open the garage and pull inside, but didn't enter the house yet. Instead, I used the keypad to close the door and crossed the front lawn, gazing up through the unfurling maple leaves at the sky. I sniffed the air appreciatively. Clean and spring crisp, scented with damp earth and mown grass rather than car exhaust. Yeah, I could get used to small town living, if this was what it was like.

I mounted Sofia's porch steps and knocked on her door. I heard footsteps approaching, but it wasn't Sofia who opened the door.

"Ricky?" I said, a smile splitting my face. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, meeting my goofy smile with one of his own. "Tia needed some new blinds hung in the spare room." He pushed open the screen door. "Come on in. Although I'll warn you—you might not be able to pry her away from Gil. She's fallen hard for him. Even made him her special cat treats."

"In that case, I might not be able to pry him away from her . The way to Gil's heart is directly through his belly." I walked inside and was immediately overcome by a heavenly aroma. "If that's what her cat treats smell like, I might just wrestle Gil for them. Although he'd probably win."

Ricky chuckled and gestured for me to follow him through a scrupulously clean living room smelling faintly of citrus and populated with overstuffed furniture in bright colors. "That's her pozole. She baked the gatito galletas earlier."

We entered the kitchen, a big, farmhouse-style room, its walls painted a cheery red with sunny yellow accents, hand-painted tiles featuring roosters and chickens marching along the backsplash. Gil was perched on a barstool, his head clearing the counter as he watched Sofia slice an avocado.

"Maz!" she cried. "You are just in time for dinner."

"It smells amazing, Sofia, but I couldn't impose."

"Pffft." She flapped her hands at me. "It is no imposition. Especially if you set the table and help Enrique wash up afterward."

Ricky leaned over and stage whispered from behind his hand. "Resistance is futile."

Sofia shook a finger at him. "Don't be fresh, Enrique. Show Maz where the plates are and then pour the iced tea."

"Yes, Tia," he said humbly, but gave me a wink when he kissed her cheek.

Ricky pointed at a glass-fronted cupboard full of mugs and plates that matched the kitchen's vibrant colors. I reached for them, but hesitated. "May I wash up first?"

"What a considerate boy. Of course." She nodded toward the living room. "Enrique will show you where."

He smiled wryly and led me back the way we'd come, to a powder room down the hall from the entry. He grimaced as he indicated the door. "Sorry. I know you wanted to go home tonight."

"I just didn't want to risk going to a restaurant when the chances were high I'd fall asleep in my plate. This is different. Trust me. I couldn't be happier."

His expression cleared. "Good. I'm glad."

"Besides…" I winked as I pushed the door open. "I don't want to offend my cat-sitter by refusing her hospitality. She might turn me down next time I need a Gil-watcher."

He barked a laugh. "Not a chance," he tossed over his shoulder as he walked back toward the kitchen. "She'll be inviting him over without you before you know it."

I washed up quickly and returned. "Just the three of us for dinner?" I asked as I opened the cabinet.

I caught an odd expression on Ricky's face as Sofia turned to me. "Set the table for four, if you please. The big bowls." She gave me a contented smile. "I always set a place for Guillermo, in case he should drop by."

At Ricky's subtle headshake, I forbore from blurting, But I thought he was at Harvard , and set four deep bowls on the crimson tablecloth. As we sat down, I noted that Gil had hopped onto the floor, where two matching dishes—one with water and one with what looked like minced chicken livers—were arrayed on a red and white gingham placemat. Yeah, clearly Gil was not suffering under Sofia's care. I'd be lucky to lure him back home.

Sofia held out her hands to Ricky and me. Following his example, I took hers in one hand and Ricky's in the other. "I must ask, Maz, although I mean no disrespect or intrusion. Are you of the Islam faith?"

"Er, no. My father's family was Eastern Orthodox, but I'm kind of ath—" I caught that tiny shake of Ricky's head again. "—aaagnostic."

Her brow wrinkled. "Believing in something is important for the heart as well as the head. What do you believe in?"

Yeesh . I couldn't very well say my personal altars were dedicated to the worship of grammar and narrative logic. "The Force. Between all living things."

Although Ricky rolled his eyes, Sofia nodded as though satisfied. "Yes, we are all linked, but you must not limit yourself to the living."

I thought about Avi lurking somewhere in my house. "I'm starting to see that."

"We are Catholic here," she said, although Ricky mouthed lapsed , morphing his silent word into a smile when Sofia shot a sharp glance his way, "so I always begin a meal with grace. Although, since Guillermo said it sometimes makes others uncomfortable, I always say my prayer silently."

I was starting to get really ticked off at Guillermo or Liam or whatever he called himself. Personally, I'd call him a jerk. "I don't mind. If you want to speak aloud, go ahead."

She squeezed my hand, smiling even as she shook her head. Then she closed her eyes and her lips began moving silently. I was pretty good at lip-reading after working with several clients who were hearing-impaired, but I didn't recognize anything Sofia was saying. I suspected she was speaking in Spanish, with which I only had enough experience to read menus and ask dónde está el ba?o? But with a sidelong glance at Ricky, I suspected that DuoLingo was in my future.

Sofia opened her eyes again and released our hands. "Now eat, eat. Boys are always hungry, I know. Enrique, would you serve us, please? Our guest first."

I passed my bowl to Ricky, and he ladled it full of the fragrant pozole. "I'm almost thirty, Tia. And I suspect Maz is about the same age."

I nodded. "Thirty last February."

"See? We're hardly boys anymore."

"Pffft. You are all boys to me."

I took a bite and the complex flavors bloomed across my tongue—chiles and oregano and cumin and the richness of pork. "Wow, Sofia, this is amazing. I thought the cochinita pibil at Taqueria Vargas was the best thing I'd ever had, but this is better."

She chuckled as she garnished her stew with an avocado slice. "That's because Maria never adds the ghost peppers. She's afraid it will make things too hot for the customers, but I say a little bit enhances the flavors."

I paused, my spoon halfway to my open mouth, and Ricky laughed at my obvious confusion. "Tia Sofia and my abuelo started Taqueria Vargas. They still use her recipes, except when my mother makes changes." She harrumphed, and he patted her hand. "Don't worry, Tia. When Felicia takes over, she'll put the ghost peppers back in."

She nodded decisively. "She is a good girl, your sister. Her tres leches cake might be better than mine someday."

I perked up at that. "They have tres leches cake? It's one of my favorites, but I didn't see it on the menu."

"Only for special days," Sofia said. She patted my hand again. "And having a new neighbor, a new friend, is the most special of days. That is why I made one today. Finish your pozole. We will enjoy a slice together, and then I will give you some to take home."