Page 75 of A Shade of Myself
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Small mercies,book club was canceled.
I’d voiced my decision to Marsha while she cleaned, stitched, and bound my wound, as she’d been a nurse before becoming a nurse educator. She agreed, albeit reluctantly, that that was probably for the best.
“I have to say, you’re being remarkably calm about everything,” I said.
Marsha finished treating me. “Not everything is within our control. How does that feel? Too tight?”
“No.” I moved my arm and winced. It throbbed like a mother, but the binding was comfortable and there wasn’t any blood seeping through. “Sit down. You’ve dealt with enough. I’ll inform the others.”
I popped a couple of painkillers and made the call.
Marsha’s love of rules and protocols meant that we had a phone tree in place should an emergency (as defined by section 13 subsections D–G of the “rules”) occur. No, a demon attack wasn’t on the list, but as Marsha had snapped out of whatever sense of calm had possessed her during crisis mode and was currently drinking rosé straight from the bottle and laughing maniacally, I took it upon myself to dub this subsection H, “Unforeseen Arcane Crisis,” and carry on appropriately.
Once that was set in motion, I texted Nav a picture of the demon’s head sitting on a towel that had the words “Resting Beach Face” printed on it.
I thought it brought a much-needed levity to the situation.
Sadie, thank goodness, was fine. Better than fine. She was the one who added sunglasses and a bottle of sunscreen to the tableau.
My heart swelled with the knowledge that whatever the magic community threw at her, she’d handle it. And if not, I’d keep her behind those lovely protective wards forever.
All joking aside, charbroiling the demon had given my daughter’s confidence an enormous boost. She was so excited about how she’d helped, that she ran next door to tell her dad all about it.
About a minute later I heard an explosive “YOU DID WHAT?” through the wall connecting our townhomes and opened my front door.
Eli stormed in holding an electric razor, with only half his head shaved down to the scalp.
“Good look,” I said calmly and offered him a cracker with a smear of brie. “Fromage?”
I wasn’t being cavalier about what had happened, but the only one dead was the demon and book club was canceled. This was the best of all possible outcomes in this new normal. Sometimes I had to live in the moment.
My ex stared at me incredulously, but before the tomato-red flush hit the top of his head, Sadie was tugging on his arm to come see the demon head in the kitchen.
I followed behind them enjoying the outstanding brie. His loss.
“Ta-da!” Sadie did jazz hands while I helped myself to another cracker with cheese.
Eli crossed his arms, his brows drawing deeper and deeper together, and his lips pressed together like he was trying to hold in a fart.
“Let it out, baby.” I licked brie off my finger.
He snorted a laugh. “This is so inappropriate.”
“Ah, but laughter is cheaper than drinking,” I said.
Sadie had done a good job cleaning up, allowing the head to really shine as a showpiece in the spotless kitchen.
“Our kid is torching demons now?” he said with a pained grimace. “Really?”
“Really,” Sadie said. “And I’m standing right here.”
He raised his eyes to the ceiling, away from the head. “I hate everything about this. All of it. In its entirety.”
“Poor Dad. Team Feldman-Chu for the win, right?” She put her hand out flat.
“Right.” I placed mine on top of it.
