A soft sound came out of Penelope’s mouth. The part sigh, part moan was so unlike any sound she’d ever heard herself make before. The shadow blocking her vision moved, then Aidan was grinning at her, amplifying the sounds around her, sharply contrasting colors, until just merely being alive seemed too much to bear.
She reached out for him, somehow realizing this was a dream and that she was free to do what she would for these precious few moments—
“Get…up!”
Something beneath Penelope’s feet trembled. She’d heard of the ground shaking before, but this—
She awakened with a start to realize it wasn’t the ground that was shaking beneath her feet as a result of Aidan’s kiss, but rather the sheet being yanked from underneath her.
Mavis was staring at her wild-eyed. Penelope gasped, then watched as the old woman resumed trying to strip her bed while she was still in it.
“Get up, I said!”
Penelope quickly gathered her wits and scrambled to stand on the other side of the narrow bed. The abrupt movement caught her grandmother off guard. She stumbled backward as the bottom sheet easily gave way, nearly knocking her flat on her butt on the hard wood floor.
“Now, what did you go and do that for?”
Penelope reached for her robe, squinting against the sunlight spilling into the room from the window. “Why are you trying to strip my bed while I’m still sleeping at the ungodly hour of…” The face of the electric alarm clock looked black, so she picked up her wristwatch as she shrugged into her robe. “Of nine.” Her eyes widened. “Nine?” She stared at her grandmother. “Is it really nine o’clock?”
“What are you asking me for? Does anybody ever really know what time it is?” She cocked her head as she stripped the remainder of the bed linens. “That’s a Chicago song, isn’t it? I’d get my cassette, but, oh! I threw out all my cassettes.”
Penelope stepped into her path, tamping down her anxiety about having overslept and stopping her grandmother from leaving the room with the sheets. “What do you mean, you threw out all your cassettes?”
Mavis squinted her dark eyes. “I don’t believe my comment needs explanation.”
“And my cassettes?”
Mavis tried to go around her. “You don’t have any cassettes.” She smiled at her. “Not anymore.”
“Mavis!” she shouted, catching the bony woman by the shoulders. “What is the matter with you?”
“Me? What’s the matter with me? This from a woman who has never been out on a single date? At least, not any that I know about. And seeing as I know everything about you, I know you haven’t been out on a single date.”
Penelope opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with everything,” Mavis countered. “And, by the way, it’s Grandmother. Not Mavis,” she said.
Penelope stepped to block her again. “Give me the sheets.”
“I will not.”
“I said give me the sheets, Grammy.”
They stood like that, locked in silent combat, until finally Penelope gave in.
“Okay, then, tell me what you plan to do with them.”
“What do you think I plan to do with them?”
Penelope could only imagine.
“I’m going to wash them, of course.”
Penelope wished she could believe her. She sighed and stepped aside.
“I’m going to soak them in a mild lye solution, you know, to get rid of any DNA evidence, then I’m going to burn them.”
“What!”
Penelope rushed after her, but halfway down the hall Max leapt at her, nearly knocking her down. Oh, God. What was the dog doing in the house? Mavis hated the dog.
Penelope caught Max’s mammoth paws in her hands and looked him straight in the eyes. “Now is definitely not the time.” She gently released his paws, and he stood there considering her. “Outside.”
“Gram, what’s Max…?”
Her words trailed off as she realized exactly how Max had gotten into the house. The doors, both the screen and the wood, were missing from their hinges. She marched to the back of the house to find the same there.
She stood, dumbstruck, in the middle of the kitchen, watching through the open doorway as Mavis stuffed the sheets into a large old oil barrel that had been cleaned and filled with water. Wood burned underneath.
She closed her eyes, wondering if she was still dreaming.
No, not dreaming. This would definitely fall solidly into nightmare territory.
She opened her eyes again, but unfortunately everything was as it had been when she closed them.
She looked at the wristwatch still in her hand. She didn’t have time for this. She really didn’t.
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