Part 60 (1/2)
”I doubt it.” The song ended and Elvis thanked his audience before she could actually do anything.
”There is a bright side, you know. If Augustus Smythe hadn't been a sufficient monitor for all the years he was here, he would have been replaced. Since you're here now, obviously there's a better chance than there's ever been that something will go wrong.”
Claire turned just enough to glare at the cat. ”And I'm supposed to feel good about that?” But she reached out to see that the power loop remained secure.
YOU WERE DISAPPOINTED!.
Get out of my head. She ate another three cookies so fast she almost took the end off a finger.
”You should cheer up,” Austin told her.
”I don't want to cheer up.”
”Then you should answer the door.”
”There's n.o.body...” A tentative knocking cut her off. She glared at the cat as she called out, ”What?”
”It's Dean. You haven't eaten yet today, so I made you some breakfast.”
”It's almost noon.”
”It's an omelet.”
Names have power. Claire could smell it now: b.u.t.ter, eggs, mushrooms, cheese. All of a sudden she was ravenous. Half a bag of cookies hadn't even blunted the edge. When she opened the door, she found he'd brought a thermal carafe of coffee and a gla.s.s of orange juice as well. She held out her hands, but he didn't seem to want to relinquish the tray.
”You've, um, probably forgotten, but it's Thanksgiving today.”
She hadn't so much forgotten as hadn't realized. A quick glance over at Miss October did indicate that it was, indeed the second Monday. And that she should replace Augustus Smythe's calendars. ”Thank you. I'll call home.”
”Yeah. Well, it's just that I was kind of invited to a friend's house for dinner.”
”Kind of invited?”
”She's from back home, too, and we all made plans to get together and...” His voice trailed off.
”Go. Be happy. Eat turkey. Watch football.” Claire reached over the omelet, grabbed the edge of the tray closest to his body and yanked it toward her, leaving him no choice but to let go or to go with it.
He let go.
”You've certainly earned a night off,” she said, smiling tightly up at him. ”Thank you for the food. Now go away, I haven't finished wallowing yet.” Stepping back, she closed the door in his face.
”That was rude,” Austin chided.
”Do you want some of this or not?”
It was enough, as she'd known it would be, for him to keep further opinions to himself.
Out in the office, Dean shook his head, brow creased with concern. ”I don't know what I should do,” he confessed to Jacques.
”Do what she says,” the ghost told him. ”Be with your friends. Eat the turkey, watch the football. There is nothing you can do here. She will come out when she is come to terms with this.”