“Don’t be.” Lucky finally lifted his head. His smile was equal parts
resigned and bitter. “As my girlfriend said, it’s just the fee for a valuable life lesson. She left me, by the way. Apparently, the tattoo artist was sticking more than needles into her, and she rather liked it.”
I didn’t know what to say, except, “Dude, your life sucks.”
“Thank you. It’s a great comfort to hear that.”
“I’m going to put extra chocolate chips in your brownies.”
“Now that is welcome news.” When he reached over to dip his finger into the batter, I didn’t even try to stop him. “I’ve got something to tell you, anyway,” I said. “It won’t cheer you up, but maybe it will distract you from your fugue of suffering for a few minutes.”
“Distract away.” I told him about Ruby, how we’d explored the house, and seeing what we’d thought was a woman behind the door. His face remained passively sceptical through the entire story, but I didn’t let that bother me. Passively sceptical was his default
setting. At the end of my story, he said, “That’s it?”
“So far. She’s only been there for four days.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t think it’s haunted.”
“I think it’s a very intriguing but ultimately unremarkable building.” He
went back for another taste of the batter. “Three cats. Three. ” I set to greasing and lining a pan. “But I swear there’s something weird about this house. Ruby’s lovely, though. Kinda young to be living alone, but she runs her own business and seems sensible
enough.” “Hmm.” He longingly watched me empty the mixing bowl and throw it into the sink. “Hey, I have an idea. You could set up your cameras in the house and record what happens here. It could be like a documentary.”Thank you for the offer, but I think I’ve ruined my professional reputation enough for one lifetime.” “You’re the worst.” “And proud of it.”
I pulled up a seat opposite while we waited for the brownies to cook.
Lucky updated me on everything that was happening on his side of the family. It had been several months since his last visit, and there was a lot to hear. As the stories stacked on top of each other, their weight depressed me. Every one of our relatives had at least three or four significant events happening in their lives; all I had to tell him about was a haunted house. I didn’t even have a job I could complain about. It made me feel empty and lonely. Maybe Aunt Bea had good reason to worry about cats eating my face. The brownies came out of the oven, and I sliced them as soon as they were cool enough. As was our habit, Lucky offered to pay for them. I vehemently refused. I knew I’d find a twenty-dollar note hidden somewhere in the garden or the hallway after he’d left. As much as I wanted to make the brownies a gift, he seemed incapable of accepting them as such.
As we meandered towards the front door, a knock interrupted our
conversation. Lucky and I looked at each other, and I suspect we were thinking the same thing: how many stars had aligned to get two visitors in a single day? I opened the door. Ruby waited outside, her hands knit together and her face tense. She twitched when she saw Lucky. “I’m so sorry. You have company. I didn’t mean to interrupt—”
“Just leaving,” Lucky said brusquely. He sidestepped both of us and
waved over his shoulder as he strolled towards his car. “See you in another few hours. Try to die somewhere the cats can’t reach you.”
“SORRY . That was just being my cousin.” I smiled at Ruby. She seemed to be trying to edge back towards her own house, so I beckoned to her before she could lose whatever courage had carried her to my door. “Come on in. The kettle’s still warm.”
“Only if I’m not intruding.” “Of course not! I love your company. And you’re way more welcome than grumpy-face Lucky.” Ruby finally smiled and slipped inside after me. I regretted not saving any of the brownies, but I still had spiced fruitcake from the previous day that I
pulled out of the cupboard. “Make yourself at home. And, uh, sorry about the cat’s things.