Etched in Bone
Page 92

Despite numerous assurances to everyone in the market that the Lakeside Courtyard did have fruit trees and the terra indigene and their human tenants had plenty of fresh fruit, Kowalski ended up lugging a large basket of assorted fruit to the car.
“Why do you think the vendors gave us so much extra food?” Kowalski asked.
“What we do in the Courtyard sets a precedent for Ferryman’s Landing as well as human-Other interaction in Talulah Falls,” Monty replied. “All those vendors at the market were Intuits. Maybe they had a feeling that what they were contributing to this meal would make a difference for everyone in the long run.”
“That’s a lot riding on one meal.”
Monty looked at his partner, who was sitting in a rapidly heating car, staring straight ahead. Yes, there was a lot riding on this meal. “My brother and his family weren’t invited,” he said quietly. “Jimmy isn’t an official resident.”
“Is he pissed about that?”
“He is, but my mother and Eve were firm in their decision about whom to invite. Mama will make up a plate for Jimmy’s family.” Not that he’ll appreciate it, Monty added silently.
Jimmy had had all kinds of things to say when he’d learned about the potluck—and learned he wasn’t invited. Tess and Vlad had declined the invitation, saying they would take care of their respective businesses. Captain Burke had also declined. So had Greg O’Sullivan, who was on his way back to Hubbney for a couple of days to speak to Governor Hannigan privately about the task force doctors who were missing. But Simon, Nathan, and Henry would be there, and, gods, so would Blair, who’d surprised everyone by accepting Eve’s invitation. Putting Jimmy, with his posturing and attitude, in the same room with the four of them was a recipe for slaughter.
And putting Jimmy in a room where he had time to study Meg Corbyn and realize what she was would hurt everyone eventually.
Monty got out of the car. “Come on. Let’s get this food inside and let the girls figure out what needs to go where.”
“Michael’s on patrol,” Kowalski said. “Since he’s not here for the prep work, he said he’d help with the dishes.”
“Did he see that turkey?”
Kowalski laughed. “Lieutenant, half of Lakeside saw that turkey.”
• • •
“We’re making a spinach salad?” Since he was in human form, Simon didn’t sniff the colander of greens Meg was washing and patting dry the way he would have in Wolf form. He took one of the leaves and sniffed it before eating it. Then he looked at Meg. “Why?”
“Because that is what I was asked to make,” she replied. “When I finish washing the spinach, I’ll clean the mushrooms. Then you’ll slice them.”
“Why?”
“Because you whine whenever I use a knife to slice or chop things.”
“I do not.” He didn’t feel easy when Meg held a knife for any reason, but he didn’t whine about it.
“Let’s call it a sound of concern,” she said. “Ruth says she’ll hard-boil some eggs to add to the salad, and Merri Lee is making a warm bacon dressing to pour over it.”
If the girls put enough bacon and grease on the leaves, the spinach might be tasty enough for a Wolf to eat.
He studied Meg, who seemed to be concentrating awfully hard just to wash a few leaves. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to go to this potluck thing?”
“I do. Ruth, Merri, and I have talked about it, about what to expect. They’re excited. So am I. So is Sam.” She shut off the water and stood with her hands over the sink, drops of water falling from the tips of her fingers.
Simon waited.
“Skippy spends a lot of time with me and Sam. And he eats a few meals with the three of us every week.”
“He can’t join us for this meal,” he said quietly. “We’re all going to be in human form, and this is different. None of us have shared food with humans in this way before.”
“I know. But he isn’t going to understand why he’s being left out.”
She sounded sad, but she shook her head and went back to drying the spinach leaves.
They worked together to prepare the salad, saying little, not really needing words. And if Meg also noticed the odd silence that passed by the Green Complex, neither of them mentioned it.
• • •
Grr Bear sat in a chair that had been turned to look out at Crowfield Avenue, which made Monty wonder if the stuffed bear had been put in a time-out for some reason. Taking the other chair on the porch, he wasn’t surprised when Lizzy came over and leaned against him. Pulling her into his lap, he put his arms around her.
“Did Grr Bear do something I should know about?” He’d returned home to find Lizzy, Fanny, and Sarah on his porch playing jacks, watched by three Crows and a female Sanguinati he didn’t recognize. Well, the Sanguinati was watching the girls; the Crows were watching the game—or waiting for an opportunity to “borrow” some of the shiny jacks.
Lizzy shook her head and said very quietly, “But he wanted me to ask you if Frances can come live with us.”
“You call her Frances instead of Fanny?” Only his mama called Jimmy’s daughter by her proper name.
“She doesn’t like being called that word, Daddy. Especially . . .” Lizzy looked at Grr Bear as if for courage.
Monty felt a chill, despite the summer heat. “What is it, Lizzy girl?”