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“Well, who wants to eat beef cooked? Everyone knows that the only good burger is raw and bloody.” She waves me off and unpeels the cellophane from the frozen bat. “Now, what you do is you add cinnamon, chives, and hemlock—not much, just a pinch of it. Some people get mighty ill, but if you sneak it in there, wow! What a kick to the meat.”
The rest of the day goes on pretty much the same. She doesn’t leave when customers come in; instead, she tries to tell me what to add to the food for seasoning. I caught her trying to slide foxglove into my pasta sauce. She swore it wasn’t to hurt anyone but to add some BAM! to the meatballs.
I threw it out when she wasn’t looking and started a new batch. Thankfully, the festival is tomorrow, and I can get a reprieve from cooking with Mrs. Murphy. At least she’ll stop trying to add poison to my food.
* * *
Chetand I walk hand and hand through the busy festival. The town is jammed with so many bodies it almost looks like an urban city. I’m pleasantly surprised that so many outsiders enjoy our little town.
Although, I can tell by the look on some of the visitors' faces that they think everything and every monster around them is a fake.
One small child runs over to Mr. Murphy and yells. “Mom! Look, it’s just like the gnome in the movie!” He pokes Mr. Murphy in the belly and tries to take his conical hat.
Mr. Murphy steps forward and swings his can, barely missing the boy. “What do ya think you are doing? Hmm. . .” Mr. Murphy squints one eye at the kid. “You can’t just go around poking people and gnomes whenever you like!” He raises his arm and shakes his cane at the boy’s mother. “Keep your child on a leash, madam!”
Although the mother’s hand flies to her chest in horror, the boy slaps his knee and laughs. “Mom! A cranky gnome! That’s so funny!”
Chet and I look at each other. “Should we go over?” I ask.
“That’s probably for the best. We don’t want anyone in town knocking ignorant visitors on the head. This is our most fiscally profitable event of the year.”
Chet and I smile and walk over to Mr. Murphy. “Oh, look, Mr. Murphy, I made the grilled bats with your wife yesterday. Follow me. Did she tell you about them? Did you get to try any when she brought them home?” My smile widens.
Mr. Murphy gives me an evil eye but then smiles back. The toothy gnome is missing teeth, and his black tongue is alarming. But I no longer flinch at the townspeople’s oddities, and they no longer cringe at what I deem less odd.
“Yes! The bats were delicious. Although Mrs. Murphy told me some crazy notion about how you cook your beef patties? Who would do such a thing?”
Chet puts his arm around me. “Don’t knock it until you try it, friend.”
“Ha! Too right.”
“I’ll tell you, Gabriella—you’ve done right by this town,” Mr. Murphy points his chubby finger at me. Although it looks like he’s threatening me, his words touch my heart. I lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you, sir. That means so much,” I say, tearing up. My gesture stuns him silently.
Chet takes this pause in complaining to whisk me away to a large white tent with music. “Would you like to dance?” he asks.
I bite my lip shyly and blush. “Yes, that would be nice.” Even though Chet and I are engaged, we grow closer every day, and each time we do something new, it is an amazing experience.
“I didn’t know you dance,” I say to Chet as he takes my hand and waist.
“There are a lot of things you’ll get to learn.” He smiles at me, and I place my head on his shoulder. “Mr. Murphy is right. You really are doing amazing things with the community. Seeing how much work you put in is nice because it meant so much to you.”
We sway to the music, a weird wailing that someone called “an ode to ghoul’s love.”
It sounds like someone scratching a record over yodeling, but no one else seems to mind, so I accept that it’s something I was supposed to get used to. “Yes, it does mean a lot to me. I didn’t have many people in my old life, and I am determined to grow a chosen family. Starting with you.”
I lean over and kiss Chet, happy to see that I can make him blush too.
19
CHET
Gabriella’s family begins filing in to take their seats. From what I can see, I understand why she wanted to ask Dylan if we could use his family’s ancestral home for the wedding. He seemed surprised by the idea.
Watching her relatives in their bright pinks and greens and whatever color they like, I can see why Gabriella insisted that Curiosity's tradition wasn’t going to cut it. I think getting hitched at the town founder’s tomb is sort of romantic. But it is the bride’s day.
Dylan agreed to the use of his property, but he had like a thirty-page contract to sign before we could even add a cobweb. It doesn't matter, the moment Gabriella saw the grand staircase, she was hooked.
