Part 8 (2/2)
The low heels on Claire's sandals poked square holes into the pavement. Pulling her skirt against her legs so that she could see her feet, she frowned. ”This isn't good. The influence has reached the parking lot.”
”Well, duh.” Diana swung one arm out in a wide, demonstrative arc. ”Minivans?”
”Right. We'd better carry the cats. Dean, can you get the backpacks?”
Even with the extra weight, the pavement remained firm under Dean's work boots.
”That's a relief,” Diana noted as she set Sam down on the concrete pad outside the door and began sc.r.a.ping the felted layer of orange cat hair off her arms. ”If it's only affecting us, it hasn't spread as far as we thought.”
”And I'll be pleased about that in a minute,” Claire muttered, glaring down at the tar stuck to her heels.
”I told you those were stupid shoes to wear Otherside.”
”No, you didn't.”
”Didn't I? I meant to.”
”I was after thinking that the whole rubber tree/hat stand thing kept these light.” Stepping over Austin, who'd sprawled out on his side in the shade, Dean set both packs on the black metal bench to one side of the door. ”What's in here?”
”A serious lackage of rubber trees and hat stands.”
Wondering why Claire seemed to be cat hair free, Diana crossed to her pack and lifted it. ”It's against the Rules to access the possibilities once we've crossed over, so stuff like that won't work. Which means we have .. .” She swung it up onto her shoulders. ”... a few clothes, some preset odds and ends, possibilities having been used to create them but no longer necessary, so hopefully they'll still work”
”Hopefully?” Dean interrupted with a searching glance at Claire.
”Hopefully,” Diana repeated when it became obvious that Claire had nothing rea.s.suring to say. ”But mostly we're carrying food and water because it's dangerous to eat or drink on the Otherside.”
”Why?”
”Are you kidding? They put sauces on everything so it's all high-cholesterol-let's-slap-the-calories-right-onto-the-hips time.”
”The food changes you,” Claire interjected, shooting Diana a stop messing with his head look. She laced her fingers through Dean's and smiled up at him. ”Different foods do different things, and all of it ties you to the Otherside, making it harder to get home. You've heard of Persephone and the pomegranates?”
Dark brows dipped down under the upper edge of his gla.s.ses. ”Early eighties girl band? Had one hit 'You're Not Seeing My Depression'?”
Diana snorted. ”It was, 'You're Not Seeing My Repression.' Although, given the hair, I totally admit they had reason to be depressed.”
”How do either of you know what was going on in the early eighties?”
”Much Music Cla.s.sic Videos,” Sam told her, sitting down by Austin and wrapping his tail around his toes. ”There's, like, two hours of them every Sat.u.r.day afternoon.”
Claire looked from the younger cat to the older.
”Don't look at me,” Austin sniffed disdainfully. ”If we're not out saving the world, I'm usually napping Sat.u.r.day afternoons. And speaking of saving the world, I'd just like to point out that we still haven't reached the air-conditioning. Not that I'm complaining or anything. Much.”
Hearing impending volume and duration in that final pause, Claire released Dean's hand and reached for her backpack only to find Dean there before her. She turned so he could lift it up onto her shoulders and s.h.i.+vered as he kissed the back of her neck, murmuring, ”Be careful.” against damp skin.
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