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But Dakota assures me I’m a patient teacher.
Forrest, meanwhile, has moved on to maintaining eye contact with Lore and giving helpful one-word instructions and encouragement.
The rapport between Forrest and Lore is touch and go for a moment when Lore examines the game space and notes, “Is that…my wall sconce that I just put out by the curb? And…my shoji screen? And…”
Forrest’s face turns beet red.
Dakota, who’s turning out to be quite a diplomat and a force to be reckoned with, pipes up with, “I don’t know, is it? Forrest, you found most of this stuff at the antique warehouse, didn’t you?”
“Uh, yeah,” he mumbles. “Guess your grandma had good taste.”
“How do you know my grandma?” Lore asks.
Everyone more or less forgets this question as Rhys moves the game alone.
Rhys demolishes poor Rebel’s character twice, once with a were-rat attack and once with a crash-landing airship. Rebel heals quickly, though, with the help of some of the non-player characters that Rhys forgot to kill.
I would speak up and tell him to take it easy, but Rebel seems to be enjoying the blood and guts of it all.
“Is that…is that the sunrise?” I say, holding up my hand to block the sun streaming in the window. We’ve been playing for six hours now…how is that possible?
Dakota, looking a little sleepy, leans into me and glances out the window. I squeeze her shoulders and start making plans to grab everyone breakfast.
Before I can say a word about it, though, there’s a knock on the glass door.
Dakota sits up straight.
All eyes go to the door, where a middle-aged man in a leather bomber jacket has his face against the glass, his hands at his temples to block out the glare. Next to him is a woman in cat-eye glasses and capri pants who looks very worried. Through the glass, I can hear the man say, “Cody Cat? Is that you?”
“Shit! It’s my parents.”
Everyone freezes, and Lore asks, “Is that bad?”
“Dakota? You ready?” I ask.
She looks up at me and nods with a tight, brave smile.
I go to the door and unlock it, swallowing back the urge to speak on Dakota’s behalf.
Dakota wants to handle her own shit, and all I can do is be here if she needs me.
The parents burst inside. The woman runs to Dakota and throws her arms around her. “Thank god you’re all right. Didyou lose your phone? Why are you in Kentucky? Did these gentlemen steal you? Do I need to call the police?”
Rebel pinches the bridge of her nose. “Slow down, Mom. Let her talk.”
Rhys excuses himself to make everyone coffee. Forrest looks like a deer in headlights. Lore watches the spectacle while shoving Flamin’ Hot Cheetos into her mouth one at a time.
She’s not getting the floor show she wants, though. None of us are. “Babe, can I use your office?” Dakota asks.
Her father glares at me. Her mom smiles. “Are you Babe? That’s so interesting, I once had an Uncle Babe. Well, that was his nickname, of course, because he was the baby of the family, see…”
“Mom,” Dakota interrupts. “Dad. This is Dean. He’s part of why I need to talk to you. Dean, this is my mom, Avery, and my dad, Beast. Uh, Rory is his real name. I keep forgetting. Sorry, Dad.”
“That’s okay, sweetheart,” the man growls, not taking his eyes off me. “Better for him to understand my nickname.”
“Oh…oh my goodness,” Dakota’s mom says, realization dawning on her face.
I rest a hand on Dakota’s shoulder and ask if she wants me to join them in the office.
