The Familiar

by Jill Nojack

  Gillian looks confused. "Oh? Did I get things wrong? I thought when you said you'd be living here together..."

  We both shake our heads. Tom explains. "No. We're not together that way. And you may be seeing Cassie's Dan around, if things turn out the way we expect. He's coming for lunch in a few minutes and Cassie was going to go out, but maybe you and I could go instead and leave them these sandwiches and a nice warm quilt just in case they need one? I've got a paycheck. I can afford to buy a lady a lunch."

  Gillian looks surprised but recovers. "All right, Tom. I'll take you up on that. Who am I to stand in the way of young love?"

  I feel kind of giddy, thinking that maybe it really could be young love again, after all. I guess I'm okay with Tom brushing off my awkward crush, although I'm still wondering what that kiss was all about. He and Gillian head out the back, but in a moment, he returns and ushers Dan into the kitchen. "Look who I found on my way out." And then he's gone.

  Dan and I stand there at loose ends, just sort of looking at each other after saying hi. Then we both say, "I missed you."

  We sit across the table from each other and talk for the first time since the day I walked in on him and Charlie together.

  I still laugh so easily with Gilly. What could I have been thinking when I first wandered off for some slap and tickle with Eunice and ended up losing my freedom in the end? Just talking about old times brings them back, and I still see the girl in her, the spark of youth.

  I reach across the table at the café and take her hand. I smile at her, that smile she always said she couldn't resist. Cassie says that being back with Dan won't change things, but I know it will. I'll be deserted, and I'm desperate to avoid feeling so alone again. Gillian pulls her hand gently away. "Don't be ridiculous, Tom. I'm old enough to be your grandmother now. Just stop."

  "Can't we hold hands and act stupid like we used to for old times sake?"

  "You know we can't. I was foolish enough to marry a stunted boy-man once, but my youthful days of stupidity are well out of my system. Everything's different now. Everything. What do you think the other people in this restaurant see when you smile at me that way? You'll put them off their lunch."

  "But you still love me. I know you do. I feel it when you look at me."

  "I love the memory, Tom. That's all. Once you get to a certain age, those memories are friendly ghosts. But you don't necessarily want to live with ghosts."

  "But I'm not a ghost. I'm a man." I give her my most charming grin again. "Or a cat. Or both. But I'm not a ghost."

  She stands up and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Tom. I really am. I know you're lonely. I'd hoped that you and Cassie would find each other—I was so sure you had, based on the looks you two pass back and forth. I don't understand why you'd push her back to a man who treats her as badly as Eunice did. I'll never understand you, Tom." She puts money on the table for her uneaten lunch and then walks out.

  I follow her out to the street, baffled. "What do you mean, a man who treats her like Eunice did? Eunice did something to him to make him cheat on her. I know she did. I watched her send the pickles home with Cassie."

  She turns and looks at me. "What? Refrigerator pickles? Tom, sometimes a pickle is just a pickle. Dan has never treated her with respect. The last time they were here, I caught him giving his cell number to one of the waitresses in the café while Cassie was helping out Eunice in the shop. I was going to tell her, but then they broke up and I didn't have to."

  Wish I'd known that this morning. See what happens when you don't get out much? "Oh man, Gilly, I screwed up. And I thought I was doing the right thing!" I turn and make a beeline for the shop.

  How could I be so stupid?

  ***

  I blast through the back door and hustle into the kitchenette, but there's no one there. The quilt's gone, too. Damn it all! I'm too late. Anything I say now is only going to hurt her.

  I sneak quietly up the stairs, hoping I don't barge in on a private moment. Her bedroom door is open. I move in silence, the way Cat's taught me, and peek around the doorframe. There's no one there.

  "Tom?" Cassie says, coming out of the bathroom behind me. "Why are you sneaking around up here? Did you and Gilly have a fight?"

  I turn. Why do I feel like I've been caught playing hooky? "No…I…she…where's Dan?"

  "Dan's an ass! He started right in with 'sell up and come back to Boston, baby. Think of the cool car you could buy me with that extra cash.' Not a word of acknowledgement about how he hurt me. And then he gets a call, and Charlie's face comes up on his phone, and he's all like, 'I have to get this'. Suddenly I knew the pickles had nothing to do with it." She walks past me and sits heavily on the edge of the bed, turning to the side to face me. "I was such a jerk. I didn't want to see what was right in front of my eyes all that time."

  "I'm sorry."

  "No, it's good," she says. "I'm glad it happened. I doubted myself for leaving him before, but now I know it was the smart thing to do. It's about time for me to start seeing things clearly." She smiles and pats the bed. "I also think it's time we talk about that kiss, don't you?"

  I sit next to her, not sure what to expect. I was never much of one for talking about feelings, and the only other time I've felt stirrings like I feel for Cassie was with Gillian. It would be difficult to forget how well that turned out. I sit primly, waiting for her to talk.

  She reaches for both of my hands where they lay folded in my lap and turns them over, smoothing my palms with her thumbs. Shyly, under her breath, she says, "I didn't mean we'd actually talk, Tom."

  Oh.

  She leans in to me, her mouth tantalizing close to mine and whispers, "But we should probably take it slow."

  So we do. We share a long, slow kiss. A kiss that takes all day and most of the night. We memorize each other's bodies with our hands and our mouths, mentally recording the sounds of each other's joy for the moments when we'll have to be away from each other, already knowing it will be a long time before we let that happen.

  Cassie gets dressed in the morning for a few minutes to write a sign that says, "Closed for Renovations" and stick it in the front window of the shop. It isn't a lie. We're tearing down faulty foundations and building a home for each other with loving whispers and hope.

  I have to hunt eventually. I can't go much longer without giving Cat some freedom. Cassie understands, and we both agree that we should open up the shop in the morning and get used to other people again. It's been three days now.

  I slip back in an hour later. Cassie isn't in bed where I left her. I wander through the house looking for her. Not downstairs. Not upstairs. I call out, hearing the frantic tone in my own voice. Where is she? I worry every day that we haven't seen the last of Kevin.

  Then, I hear her a faint scuffling sound from above. The attic? What would she be doing in the attic at this hour of the night?

  I climb the narrow stairs that feel much less claustrophobic when Cat is prowling for mice. In the dim, dusty space, Cassie's going through a box of Eunice's junk with her earbuds firmly shoved into her ears. I relax.

  "Hey," I yell, getting her attention. She plucks the music out of her ears and looks at me expectantly. "You're decluttering in the middle of the night?" I ask, from where I stand on the top stair.

  "I don't know, I woke up, and I had a lot of energy for some reason..." She smiles and shrugs her shoulders. She can get this way after we make love—bright and full of get-up-and-go. She looks radiant, innocent, and yet so sexy in her plain, cotton nightie. "It's time I get rid of the rest of Granny's stuff. I can face it now. I've got you, and I've got Gillian, and I'm so much stronger than I ever knew. Anyway, some of this stuff is really cool. I think Eunice stored her own mother's things up here. I found this beautiful old brooch just thrown into the bottom of a box."

  She raises the brooch and opens the pin on the back to put it on her nightgown, but I call out, "Cass! We need to know if there's anything dangerous up here before you go putting on
brooches. Any of this junk could be spelled, and we wouldn't be able to tell. We need to get Gillian or Natalie up here to check it out."

  "You know what? You're right." She puts the brooch down on top of a box, then something else catches her eye. She reaches out for it.

  "Oh wow, this is interesting..."

  I step up onto the landing to get a better look, stooping under the low ceiling. She's holding a clay box with what must once have been bright paint decorating it. I recognize the symbols. They're Egyptian: life, death, reincarnation. Something Eunice must have collected because of her Egypt obsession, like the canopic jars and archeology magazines. Cassie reads the symbols aloud in English. How could she know the words? A feeling of dread takes hold of me. I yell and bolt toward her to smack it out of her hand, but it's too late.

  Blue-gray smoke bursts from the vessel and engulfs her, then enters her body through her mouth and nose. Her posture changes. She turns to me, stiffly, with that Daughters of the American Revolution formality.

  Cassie's playful look has been replaced by one that I know too well. It's cruel and controlling. It's Eunice. I back away instinctively.

  "Hello Tom," she says. "Have you been making time with my granddaughter? Have you been bad, Tom?"

  The cat appears as the man shrinks away.

  Afterword

  Thank you, dear reader, for making it all the way through to the end. You can find Witch Risen, Book Two of the Bad Tom Series, on the Jill Nojack Author page at Amazon.com or by visiting my website at http://www.jillnojack.com where I keep readers updated on all of my series. By the time you read this, there may even be additional books in the series!

  If you enjoyed the book, please consider signing up for my New Book Notification Newsletter at http://www.jillnojack.com/notify/. I'll let you know when I release new books in each of my series. I only send a newsletter when I have a new book available, you will never receive more than one newsletter a month.

  This book would not have been possible without the feedback I received from my two amazing alpha readers, digipal Max Tomlinson (his excellent Mystery / Suspense / Thriller novels can be found here) and Michelle Hunt Keller, who is currently seeking a publisher for her novel. It's fantasy and very good. You can read about her efforts and find out if it is available yet here.

  And finally, if you decide to leave a review, let me just thank you in advance. Reviews (even the critical ones) help readers like you and me sort through a sea of releases and find exactly what we're looking for. Just a couple of sentences about what you liked or didn't like can make all the difference.