Page 52 of Housesitter

Now that he thought about it, Kel was pretty sure the spot on his cuff was blood.

Bernie looked up from a clipboard as Kel ducked awkwardly under the banner strung over the door. Her face twisted between embarrassment and sympathy as she handed the clipboard off to one of the other HOA members and walked briskly over.

“Kel,” she said as she reached him. “Never mind that. It was…ah…someone from the church retired. They had a party.”

They had. Kel tilted his head back to look at the banner. Doreen, apparently.

Bernie started to move into a hug, thought better of it, and folded her arms over her chest instead.

“You know, you didn’t have to come tonight. I sent word that we’d automatically approve an extension on your deadline, what with everything that’s happened.” She paused and screwed her nose up in an awkwardly sympathetic grimace. “How’s Ruby?”

Kel stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and grimaced out a crooked smile.

“Tired of hospital food,” he said. “The nurses say she’s doing…better than she could be. They say that because she got to the hospital so quickly, the damage wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

They also said ‘thanks to your quick thinking’ a lot. Kel wished they wouldn’t. For a start, he didn’t think you had to be all that quick on your feet to think about calling an ambulance when your grandmother had a seizure in the remains of Joe Greenwell’s fry-up. Plus, it had been his fault. So being praised for it felt a bit weird.

“They do say that,” Bernie said, nodding sagely. “The quicker you get treatment is a big indicator of how well you can recover.”

Kel resisted the urge to ask if she was an expert now.

“Anyhow,” he said. “Ruby’s doing OK, and I want to try and get everything between me and the HOA settled before she comes home. She’ll be staying with me after all.”

Yeah. His conscience saw the irony in using the stroke he’d caused to curry favor with his con. Ruby would have been proud, though. It worked. At least, it did on Bernie.

She reached out and squeezed his forearm.

“You’re a good grandson,” she said. The squeeze turned into a pat. “Bit of an ass otherwise, but a good grandson.”

It was funny, but that made Kel feel better somehow.

“Thanks,” he said.

Bernie chuckled and gave him a gentle push.

“Go grab a seat,” she said. “It’s an emergency meeting, so there’s only a few things on the agenda. We’ll get to you quickly.”

Kel shuffled over to the rows of white, plastic chairs, some of them still with bible leaflets from the retirement party stuck to the seats, and folded himself awkwardly into one. The woman in the row ahead of him looked around in annoyance as his knees nudged the back of her chair. Then she looked down at his legs, sighed, and scootched forward.

“Better?” she asked.

The smoke around her face sketched into a scowl.

You better not be who complained about my bins, or I’m moving back, it spat out through twisted lips. It tasted hot, like cinnamon in his sinuses.

As other people filed in, sat down, and traded murmured conversations, the smoke rose from them like a pall. It hung so heavy in the room that Kel didn’t have to try and pull it out of them.

…Think you can get away with an approved structure just because it’s for ‘foster children.’

It’s my fucking house, and if I want my boyfriend to park his motorbike in the drive, he fucking can.

…Told her the HOA was a mistake, but did she listen…..nooooo

Kel sat back in his chair with a wince and rubbed his knuckles under his breastbone. He didn’t think burping would help a glut of supernatural…whatever the smoke was…but it felt like it should.

Before he could force one out to see, a hand tapped his shoulder. He turned to see Bernie stooped over, her face creased into a tight, rabbity expression of apology.

“Look, I know this isn’t ideal,” she muttered. “But, um, Easy came back from his business meeting early. He’s just parked outside.”