Page 21 of Something Handsome This Way Comes

“You named your possum familiar Ralph?” Grievance asked pointedly.

“What’s wrong with Ralph?” Rowen asked, wiping flour from his hands with a towel.

“It’s ridiculous,” Grievance said point-blank.

“It’s fine,” Milo interjected. “Anyway, tell us about the pastries.” He redirected, but not before shooting Grievance a sharp look.

“I really appreciate you trying these. Hope you like cupcakes,” Rowen said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “The pink frosting ones are just standard strawberry. I made her do an easy control group first.”

Then he let out a long-suffering sigh.

“And the ones with blue frosting are what she’s calling…” He glanced toward the kitchen before lowering his voice. “Razzle-Dazzle Surprise.” Rowen shook his head. “I had one this morning.”

He patted himself down theatrically as though checking whether all his limbs remained attached.

“I’m feeling fine, so…” He shrugged. “Should be safe. Probably.”

Milo laughed. Grievance glared. He didn’t think the joke was that funny.

“Tell Sadie thanks, and I’m sure they’re delicious,” Milo said.

“Yes, yes. Thank you very much,” Grievance said quickly, taking the box with the swirly script, presumably Sadie’s handwriting, that said, Just for you, hot stuff. He grimaced at it. “Can we go now?”

Milo gave Rowen an apologetic look before waving goodbye, and they were once again blessedly in the crisp outdoor autumn air and out of that sugar-filled dungeon.

“If you can’t get along with Rowen, I’m not bringing you on errands anymore,” Milo said.

“Then I’m sending Pip as a proxy.”

Milo groaned. “Please don’t.”

“How many eggs do you want in your omelet?” Grievance asked, cracking open the eggs they received from Mr. Wetherby that morning in exchange for Milo’s ‘horny chicken potion’.

“Just two is fine.”

“Well, you’re getting three. This one had two yolks in it,” Grievance said, tossing aside the shell.

“Was it one of those red ones with yellow spots?”

“Yes. How did you know?” Grievance asked, turning from his spot at the stove. Milo was curled on the couch, a MythBeast encyclopedia open on his lap.

“Those almost always double-yolk. No idea why; my potion shouldn’t do that.”

“Hmm. Can you name it? I’m tired of calling it ‘horny chicken potion’ in my head all the time.”

Milo laughed. “Sure. I’ll come up with something. How about Super-Cock? Or Horny-Henrietta?”

Grievance gave him a look. “Is that really what you want?”

“Or, maybe Perfect-Pecker-Potion!” He smiled, proud of himself. “I kinda like that one.”

“I’ll let you keep workshopping it,” Grievance said, handing him a plate with his omelet and placing a kiss in his hair.

“I think I’m onto something,” Milo said through a big mouthful.

After eating, Grievance let Milo shower first while he cleaned up and started the night routine. He fed and tucked in Marigold the goat in the barn, sneaking her some fresh carrots from the garden as he locked up. It was ten thirty-seven, so exactly seven minutes ago Pip had put himself to bed.

Now, Grievance was alone, sitting on the sofa with his arms crossed and glaring at a white pastry box as though it had personally offended him.