Page 126 of Cackle

“Sophie?” I say.

She doesn’t respond.

My immediate reaction is fear.

I was stupid to come here.

She’s more powerful than I am. I couldn’t hold my own against her if it came to that. I need to leave.

I open my eyes.

She stands in front of me smiling. She’s holding a guitar.

“Surprise!” she says, presenting it to me.

I’m an asshole. Here she is being thoughtful and generous, and here I am scheming about how I can get away from her. Did I let Oskar get in to my head, let his hostility tarnish my perception of her? He doesn’t know Sophie like I do. I have no reason to fear her.

Well, I mean, except I kind of do . . .

“You like it?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say, taking the guitar. It’s beautiful. “This is . . . too much. I don’t deserve this.”

“Nonsense,” she says. “And it’s just as much for me as it is for you. I told you, you have to play for me.”

“This is so nice, Sophie. Too nice. Really. You’re too good to me.”

“I want you to focus on your own gifts. Your talents. I want you to continue to feed yourself,” she says, pushing a stray hair out of my face. “When I met you, you were starving.”

“Is that why you made me pie?”

She laughs. “No. The pie was because I wanted pie. It was selfish pie. Feeding myself.”

“You shared with me.”

“Only because I really like you, Annie. I don’t go around sharing my pie with everyone.”

“This sounds super sexual,” I say.

She gasps. “Oh, dear!”

I forgot Sophie can be scandalized. I forgot how old she is. I stifle a giggle.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she says, fake pouting.

“Sharing pie with everyone.”

“Stop!”

“Okay, okay,” I say. “Sorry.”

“This is the thanks I get,” she says, “relentless teasing.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m very grateful for the gift. This really is a beautiful guitar.”

She sits in the chair across from me, tucking one ankle under the other. Ralph settles in her lap.

“Play something for me, pet.”