“Yoo hoo!” Vera barged through the door. She paraded through the mess as if she didn’t even see it and sat at the kitchen table. “Cream, two sugars,” she said. Bailey opened her mouth, but a few seconds later she felt Brad’s hand around her waist, gently pulling her behind him.
“No problem,” Brad said. “I’m making a fresh pot as we speak.”
“Great!” Vera said.
“How do you feel?” Brad said.
“What?”
“I mean—how did you sleep?”
“Deeply,” Vera said. Bailey tried to move past Brad. He pulled her in and whispered in her ear.
“Don’t.”
“But she—”
“Doesn’t remember,” Brad finished for her. “She’s a guest. Remember?”
“Fine,” Bailey said. “Captain Jack should be pulling in any minute. I’ll see if he can take me to Island Supplies for bacon and eggs, and bread, and flour.” Brad leaned in and kissed her mid-list.
“Thank you,” he said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Bailey grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
“Hey,” she said. “When we get a minute alone, I want to hear all about your group meeting.”
Word for word,
she added silently.
Word for freaking word
.
It was their first full house for breakfast. In addition to the group, they were joined by Jake. Bailey slightly hated to admit it, but she loved taking in Brad noting how good-looking Jake was, even with his shirt on. “Mr.
GQ,
” Brad whispered to Bailey under his breath. It almost made up for Angel, who was wearing a low-cut top that was also tied in a knot just above her belly button, and cut-off jean shorts. Bailey had never been able to pull off shorts that tiny, not even when she was young. Brad had not only done a great job cleaning up the kitchen, but his scrambled eggs with peppers and onions and crispy bacon was fabulous. Bailey made chocolate-chip pancakes that were also a big hit. It was so easy to make people happy. Just make sure they’re well fed. Delicious, comforting foods and good company. It would have been perfect, except for one thing. Bailey couldn’t wait for them to be gone. Would she feel differently if they were paying? She didn’t think so. She wanted time alone with Brad. She had to confront him about his changing near-death story. Who had he lied to? Her or the group? Maybe he just didn’t want the group to know that he loved his wife so much that he was willing to give up heaven for her.
The biggest problem with that theory was that she just didn’t believe it. She was the one he had lied to, she could feel it. So what did that mean? Could she really blame him for something he felt or didn’t feel when he was dead? Wasn’t it a little like being angry with someone for having a sexy dream about someone else?
Speaking of sexy dreams, if Jake stayed any longer she was going to end up having a few hundred of her own. Bailey looked around the table with a fake smile on her face. Nobody was talking. Which was totally fine. Wasn’t it? Certainly it meant they were comfortable and relaxed. Just quietly stuffing their faces. God, it was strange to watch strangers chew. Bailey wasn’t sure she liked it. She should stop watching them. Were they watching her chew? She didn’t like that thought either. Now she was happy everyone was quiet. Imagine, everyone talking and chewing at the same time like a bunch of animals. Maybe she should institute some kind of mandatory no-talking rule. Besides, when they did start talking, she was probably going to get the same questions over and over again.
What’s it like to live in a lighthouse? How does a lighthouse work? How much did you say you paid for this candle in the wind?
She wondered if it was fine with Brad that nobody was conversing. Did he have some fantasy of stimulating breakfast conversation every morning? Intelligent and inquisitive guests debating art and politics over pancakes?
“I can’t believe you’re able to eat,” Angel said. She was looking at Vera. Vera’s fork froze by her mouth.
“What do you mean?” Vera asked.
“Angel,” Sheila said like a mother warning a child.
“What?” Angel said. “I don’t mean because of her weight”—Vera audibly gasped. Angel continued as if she didn’t hear her—“but because she totally ate her way through the entire kitchen in her sleep!”
Stricken, Vera’s head swiveled around the table. One by one, heads ducked into their plates. Angel was the only one who continued to stare, unabashed, at Vera. “I did not,” Vera said slowly. “Everything was locked. All the food was locked,” she repeated when nobody said anything.
“Yeah,” Angel said. “Even that didn’t stop you.” Angel laughed and looked around the table for support. “Did I say something wrong?” Angel said. “I didn’t mean to—I just think if you’re going to get up in the middle of the night, pick seven locks, and eat half a bag of flour, raw bacon, eggs, and raw soup from the can, then at least you’d better have a sense of humor about it, you know?”
Vera’s fork dropped to her plate with a clatter.
“There’s no such thing as raw soup,” Ray said. “It’s just soup. Either hot soup or cold soup. Still soup.”
“Okay, whatever,” Angel said. “Half a bag of flour, raw eggs—I can say raw eggs, right? And cold soup from the can. Happy now?” Ray glared at Angel and then looked at Kimmy as if he wanted her to do something about it. Kimmy’s eyes filled with tears and she stuck her face as close to her plate as she could.
“I ate all that?” Vera whispered. She stood and grabbed her stomach.
“We don’t know for sure,” Bailey said. “Maybe you just—opened things up.”
“And ate them,” Angel said. “Opened things up and ate them.”
“Maybe it was someone else,” Sheila said. She gave her husband a look. He didn’t notice it, just happily continued to shovel food into his mouth. He was humming too, something Bailey found disconcerting. It was hard to concentrate on what everyone was saying and try and figure out what tune was playing on his jukebox-for-one. She was pretty sure it was “You Can Leave Your Hat On.”
“Someone else?” Vera shrieked. “Like who?” She continued to swivel her head. “Who?”
“You sound like an owl,” Daniel said. “Hoo, hoo. Hoo, hoo!”
Vera pointed her fork at Daniel’s face. “Could have been that dog of yours.”
“Could’ve been,” Daniel said happily. “He’ll eat anything.”
“Can he pick locks too?” Angel said. Daniel stopped and dramatically looked to the ceiling with his fork hovering in the air while he thought about it.
“No,” Daniel said in a thunderous voice. He waved his fork like an orchestra conductor. “He can
not
pick locks. No thumbs.” He looked at Vera as if to say, “Back to you.”
“I can’t pick locks either,” Vera said. “At least I don’t think I can.”
“I’ve heard about sleepwalkers having all sorts of secret talents,” Sheila said. From the tone of her voice, she was very excited to share this news. She was practically bouncing in her seat. “Things they can do when they’re doing their zombie thing that they can’t do when they’re awake.”
“Zombie?” Vera said. “Did you just call me a zombie?” Bailey couldn’t believe it either. Thank God she wasn’t the one who said it.
“Maybe,” Sheila continued, “we should put a paint set and paper by your bed tonight. You could be like one of those monkeys who can paint. You never know.”
“She’d probably eat them,” Ray said.
“Ray,” Kimmy whispered. “Don’t.”
“Are you calling me a monkey now?” Vera shouted. “Which is it, Sheila? Am I a monkey or a zombie?”
“A
talented
zombie,” Sheila said. “My God. Why does everyone blow past my compliments and go straight for the negative?”
Bailey glanced at Kimmy. She was practically vibrating in her seat. She was pushing food around but she hadn’t taken a bite. “Is everything okay?” Bailey asked her. Kimmy looked up, eyes brimming with tears.
“I don’t eat eggs. Or bacon. Or sugar. Or flour.”
“Bet Vera wishes she could say the same thing,” Chris said. Sheila elbowed him. He went back to eating and humming.
“Oh,” Bailey said. “Would you like oatmeal and fruit?”
“We don’t have oatmeal and fruit,” Brad said.
“I’m just trying to establish a baseline,” Bailey said.
“I’d love oatmeal and fruit,” Kimmy said.
“Great,” Bailey said. “Next time I’ll make sure to have it.” Vera pushed away from the table, still clutching her stomach. “I feel sick,” she said. When nobody responded, Vera said it again at ten times the volume. “I feel sick!”
“You were fine a minute ago,” Sheila said. “Sit down. It’s psychosomatic.”
“Or just psycho,” Angel said.
Vera cried out, “I have a disease. How dare you make fun of me!”
Angel flinched. All of her, that is, except her boobs, which remained in exactly the same perky spot. “It’s a joke! My God, can’t you people take a joke? In Egyptian times they would have hidden all the food in a tomb.” She leaned forward and whispered, “You’d probably get lost and die looking for it. Even if you could pick locks.”
“I don’t pick locks,” Vera cried. “I’ve never picked a lock in my life. Who did it? Who opened the locks?” Heads began swiveling around the table, taking each other in. Vera pointed to Chris. “Did you come in for a midnight snack?”
“How would we get the key?” Chris said. “We don’t pick locks either.”
“Personally, I suspect Tree,” Daniel said cheerfully. He snuck the dog a scrap and patted his head. “He’s my furry, lock-picking spy.”
Vera looked at Bailey. “I trusted you,” she said. “I trusted you with the key.”
“My wife is innocent,” Brad said. He put his arm around Bailey and gave her a nervous pat. Bailey looked at him. He gave her one of his fake smiles.
“Oh my God,” Bailey said. “You think I just left the key lying around, don’t you?”
“It’s no big deal,” Brad said. “Sometimes you’re a little . . . you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”
“Bailey, relax. Creative. You’re a creative soul and sometimes, you know, you’re a little forgetful.”
“Oh, really? Well, at least I don’t forget the important things.”
“Right,” Brad said. He gave Bailey a quick peck on the cheek. “You are wonderful,” he added nervously.
“Like, say—if I died and went into the light.” The table immediately fell silent. Even Chris stopped humming. Stricken, Brad looked at Bailey. “I certainly wouldn’t forget who I was. Whom I loved. I certainly wouldn’t forget
you
.”
“He didn’t forget you,” Ray said. “He just cared about his shoes more.”
“You told her?” Brad said. He pushed himself away from the table and stood as if he were in a bar about to start a brawl.
“That’s what you’re going to take from this,” Bailey said. “I find out I’m worthless and you want to fight him for telling me?”
Brad turned to Bailey. He reached out as if to touch her, but then thought better of it. “Worthless?” he whispered. “How could you think that?”
“You said,” Bailey said. Her voice was starting to waver. She was going to cry. “You came back for me.”
“Bailey,” Brad said. “Bailey, Bailey, Bailey.”
“Which was it?” Bailey demanded. “Me or the shoes?” Brad didn’t answer, but he did sit back down beside her.
“This is like a fucked-up version of Cinderella,” Ray said.
“I think I need to see a doctor,” Vera said. “What if I swallowed something poisonous?”
“You’d be dead by now,” Daniel said.
“If I were you, I would sue,” Chris said.
“Excuse me?” Bailey said.
“She warned you about her condition. She trusted you with the key,” Chris said matter-of-factly.
“Exactly,” Vera said. She pointed at Chris. “What he said.”
“I did exactly what you asked,” Bailey said. “I locked everything. The key is probably still right by my bed where I left it.” She felt Brad’s hand land on top of hers under the table. He gave it a little squeeze. He was trying to tell her to calm down. He was worried she was going to start throwing things. What if she just threw the salt and pepper shakers? That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?
“I think I’m sweating,” Vera said. “I’m sweating but also slightly chilled. Is it just me?”
“Oh, just go outside and walk it off,” Daniel said.
“If you do die,” Sheila said, “we’ll totally try to contact you.”
“A walk is an excellent idea,” Brad said. “Bailey, would you like to take a walk with me?”
“No,” Bailey said. “But make sure you take your shoes.” Brad hung his head. Bailey felt a rush of guilt and a desire to comfort him. She reminded herself that it was his blatant lies that got them here. “Maybe Vera would like to go for a walk,” Bailey said. “Maybe all of you would like to go for a walk.”
Before I tip this entire table upside down or launch every object on it at your heads
. Vera looked ready to veer into another monologue about her impending death.