Pooka in My Pantry Read online

  “I wasn’t home at the time. It’s the weirdest thing. Nothing was stolen. Somebody just took all my shoes out of the closet and lined them up on my dining room table.”

  I could feel the blood draining from my face. “It’s bad luck to put your shoes on a table,” I said before thinking.

  Sara gave me an odd look. “Yeah. That’s what we should focus on. Shoes on a table are bad luck.” She looked more exhausted than I was.

  The Leprechaun Mafia. Those devious little bastards were going to pay.

  I shook off my anger and focused on Sara. “Let me make you some tea or something. Stay here.”

  “Really, I’m just tired and badly in need of a shower. It’s been a long night.”

  “I bet.” I froze. The guest room. There was no telling what kind of condition Silas had left it in. “Sit for a few minutes. I have to tidy up in there and change the sheets and stuff. Just take me a few minutes.”

  She tried to object, but I brushed her off and ran to assess the damage. I’d avoided going in there since Silas had shown up.

  I stopped in the doorway, shocked. The room was pristine. Vacuumed, dusted, with fresh sheets on the bed. It was the last thing I’d expected. Silas must’ve been really sorry about the dinner cruise. I checked the guest bathroom and found it was also scrubbed clean of pooka filth. A post-Halloween miracle.

  I popped my head out of the room and called down the hall. “It’s okay. I forgot I already cleaned up in here.”

  She trudged in with her bag, one eyebrow raised in that suspicious way she had. “How did you forget you cleaned? You never clean, Zoey. It would’ve been an event.”

  “I forget a lot of things these days.”

  I settled her in for the night and crawled into bed. If one more thing goes wrong, I’m done. Stick a fork in me. Slice me up on a plate. No more Zoey.

  The remaining two hours before the alarm went off passed in blissful peace.

  Breakfast, however, brought a minor speed bump.

  Sara came into the kitchen, back to her proper, well-groomed self, dangling a pink piece of plastic from her finger. “Zoey, why is there a Barbie table in your linen closet?”

  I choked on a mouthful of cornflakes, which, in retrospect, was good. It bought me time to think of a reasonable explanation.

  “Huh,” I said, once I’d cleared my airway. “I wonder why I never noticed that before. How deep were you digging for towels? Jeez, I haven’t seen that since I was a kid and used the shelves for a fake dreamhouse.”

  It wasn’t the best lie, but it satisfied her for the moment. The truth was hardly something I could tell her. She’d never believe the closet recently housed a family of brownies. Barbie furniture had been the best solution at the time. I thought Maurice and I removed all of it when Molly moved to the mushroom, but we must have missed a piece.

  Sara dropped the Pepto-pink table and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Will you be okay going in without me today? I’ve got to talk to the insurance adjuster and start looking for a contractor to plug up the hole in my house.”

  “Mostly I’ve got stuff to take care of for Andrew’s grandparents. I only have a week to pull it off, but I think I have it under control.”

  I also had to stop and see Milo on my way in. I couldn’t get anything done before I did that.

  When I got to the vet’s office, Andrew was already there, looking like he hadn’t slept at all.

  “How’s our boy?” I asked.

  Andrew rubbed the stubble on his chin and let out a heavy breath. “Still sleeping. But they said his vitals are good. I just have to wait.”

  I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Call me when you’ve seen him awake. I have to get to work. I have a special client and a tight deadline.”

  He nodded absently. “I understand.”

  I poked him in the arm. “I mean you, Andrew.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” He smiled. “Go collect daisies for Gran.” He squeezed my hand. “Thanks, Zo. I’ll call you.”

  “Make sure you do.”

  I spent the morning calling vendors. I wanted to do a good job for Andrew, but since I’d met his grandparents, I was even more driven to make it perfect. But I only had a week, and vendors don’t particularly care for such short notice.

  After a third failed attempt at finding a jazz quartet with Saturday free, I was ready for some good news. Instead, I got a phone call from Sara.

  “Zoey, there’s something outside.” Her voice was a little shrill with suppressed panic.

  I was afraid, too, but not for the same reasons. At my house, there was no telling what she might see walking across my yard.

  “Is it an animal?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know!”

  “Deep breath, Sara. I live out in the country. You’re not used to it. Describe it.”

  “If I tell you, promise not to laugh?”

  “Promise.”

  “Lizard swear.”

  I sighed. We’d known each other since college. With a friendship that long came certain stupid traditions. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye, and may a lizard eat my gizzard.”

  Sara took a deep breath and held it. I was afraid we’d been disconnected until she expelled it in a rush of words. “I saw Bigfoot.”

  “Oh.” Having Sara at my house was going to get more and more problematic. I could hardly correct her and tell her she’d seen a skunk-ape, not Bigfoot. “Maybe it was a bear? I think my neighbor has a Great Dane. How good a look did you get?”

  “It moved pretty fast.” She paused. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Just try to stay inside unless you have to go to your car. I’m sure whatever you saw is long gone, but it doesn’t hurt to play it safe.”

  “I guess.” She still didn’t sound convinced. “Should I call someone?”

  “Sara, it’s the country. All kinds of weird things happen. I’ll be home with dinner in a few hours. Need anything?”

  “My sanity.”

  I wondered if I could get a two-for-one special on that one.

  I found a band on the next phone call and decided I could get the rest done from home. I was wiped. I was also worried about Sara being alone in a house that could be overrun by an army of fugitive fairy tales at any second.

  Andrew hadn’t called yet, so I stopped at a deli for a sandwich and brought it in to him. I found him crying softly in the waiting room in the same chair I’d left him in. I feared the worst.

  I sat next to him put my arms around him. “What happened?”

  He leaned his face into me for a minute, then sat up and wiped at his cheeks. “Sorry. It’s been a lot to take. He’s okay. Really groggy, but he recognized me and licked my hand. He just looks so small and fragile. It scared me.”

  Relief soaked through me. “What did the doctor say?”

  “His ear is ruined. They stopped the internal bleeding, and his leg’s in a cast. They’re keeping him for awhile, but he’s going to be okay.”

  I mourned the loss of Milo’s great big ear, but the rest was good news. I was grateful. After the week or so I’d had, I needed some good news.

  I sat with Andrew for a bit to make sure he was okay, then made my way home. Sara was probably a wreck, too.

  Sara would have to wait. When I pulled into the driveway, Molly and Walter were waiting for me on the front steps. I prayed there was no crisis for me to fix. I was pretty much spent.

  I trudged toward the house where the two small figures sat together, not too far apart, but not quite close enough to be together. It seemed Walter had made some progress, but I was glad to see Molly didn’t completely trust him yet.

  I grinned at Molly. I hadn’t seen her in over a week, missing her by minutes every time I went to visit. She
only stood about ten inches tall, but every inch was filled with dignity. Whenever I saw her it struck me that she looked like a tiny, brown Audrey Hepburn with pointy ears. I’m not sure if she would have appreciated the reference, but I meant it as a huge compliment. Audrey Hepburn had class, and so did Molly.

  My only regret was she was too small to hug.

  I sat down on the steps below them and twisted around to chat.

  “Hi Molly.” I nodded at her husband. “Walter.”

  Walter smiled at me, looking awkward and uncomfortable.

  “You look as though you have had a difficult day,” Molly said.

  “You have no idea,” I said. “I have so much to tell you.”

  Walter tipped his head toward the house. “I see you’ve got human company.”

  I sighed. “Sara’s had some difficulties, too. Pretty sure her problems are a result of my problems, though. So, yeah. I have company.”

  They exchanged worried looks. “Maybe this is not the best time to speak to you,” Molly said. “We can come back another time.” She started to get up.

  “No, Molly. I always have time for you. You know that. What can I help with?”

  They looked at each other again, and I started to get worried. Walter cleared his throat and cast his gaze down at his feet.

  Molly scooted closer to her husband and took his hand. “Zoey, we are having another baby.”

  My eyebrows shot up into my hairline before I could stop them. At least I had the good sense not to ask any of the first questions that popped into my head, like Do you think that’s a good idea? or How the hell did that happen?

  “Oh. Congratulations.”

  Molly smiled up at me. “It will be okay, Zoey.”

  I tried to recover by running my fingers through my hair. “Are you feeling okay?” I asked. “Can I do anything for you?”

  Again with the furtive exchanged glances. They wanted something all right.

  “We want you to be the baby’s godmother,” Molly said.

  Walter nodded his head, smiling shyly. “Please, Zoey? It would be a huge honor for us.”

  In a crappy week of crappy events and crappy people, there was still room left for a little bit of wonderful. My eyes misted over.

  “Oh, Molly, of course I will. The honor would be mine. What do I have to do?”

  “Nothing you do not already do every day for all of us,” Molly said.

  “Except for the naming ceremony,” Walter said.

  That kind of worried me—I had no idea what kind of rituals a Brownie naming ceremony would involve. Molly saw my discomfort. “Do not worry about that now.” She scooted off the step and patted my leg with her tiny hand. “We will not burden you further tonight. You look tired, and Sara is waiting for you.”

  Walter hopped down next to her. “Thank you, Zoey,” he said. “I know I don’t deserve your help, but Molly and the kids—they deserve the best. So, thank you.”

  He was beginning to grow on me.

  I held my breath when I went into the house. As far as I knew, Sara could still be under the leprechaun curse of bad luck. The house was standing though, so that was a good sign.

  Sara was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for me, huddled over a dirty plate and cup.

  “Who were you just talking to?” she asked. She looked tired. Weren’t we all?

  “Nobody.”

  “Come on, Zoey. I heard voices out there.”

  “I was talking to myself.”

  “And answering yourself in another voice?”

  “Sara, you sound paranoid.” I dropped my purse and keys on the counter. “Did you get the insurance stuff sorted?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was tight. She didn’t sound like herself.

  “Something happen?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

  “Did you see the bear again?”

  “I told you, it wasn’t a bear.” Her body stiffened. “And you lizard swore that you wouldn’t laugh.”

  “I’m not laughing. Honest. I believe you.”

  She pulled the dishes closer to her. “It wasn’t a bear.”

  “Okay.” I reached to take her dirty dishes, and she blocked me, as if the dishes were a lifeline to sanity. “Are you having a romantic tryst with my dinnerware?”

  She glanced down at her plate, as if only now noticing it. She pushed it away. “No. You can have it.”

  I took away the plate and cup and put them in the sink, worried. “Is something wrong, Sara? You’re acting a little screwy tonight.”

  She bolted from her chair and stared at the sink. “Your place is what’s screwy. What the hell is going on here, Zoey?”

  “Sara, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What happened while I was gone?”

  “Nothing happened!” She was almost shouting, now. “Nothing while I was looking, anyway. Every time I leave the room, things are moved, or washed. The goddamn bed made itself when I was in the shower!” She paced across the kitchen, her eyes darting left and right as if giant purple space ninjas or five-legged aliens with crocodile teeth were about to spring out of my cupboards.

  I’m sure she had to have seen the emotions running across my face—relief that nothing catastrophic had happened, fear that she was noticing my riddled-with-pure-crazy life, and last, absolute joy. It made total sense now that the guest rooms weren’t trashed when I checked them. Things were getting cleaned. It could only mean one thing—Maurice was home.

  I had to try to maintain a façade of normalcy in front of Sara, but it took everything in me not to dash into her room and tear the closet door open so I could hug him.

  “Sara, you’re under a lot of stress. You almost died last night. You’ve barely slept. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

  That was probably the worst thing I could have said. She stopped pacing and glared at me. “No. I’m not seeing things, I’m not hysterical, and you can’t blame this on the vapors.” Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. “I know what’s going on around here. I just hoped you’d admit it to me.”

  “What exactly do you want me to admit?”

  “You’ve got a ghost, don’t you? You think I won’t believe you, so you’re keeping it from me. I get it. I’m a skeptic. But I know what I’ve experienced today. Just tell me I’m wrong.”

  Ghosts. I almost lost the war against the laughter bubbling up in my throat. I squelched it, along with my surprise. My house being haunted was the last conclusion I’d expected Sara to come to. I had to admit, it was the simplest explanation. So much for Occam’s razor. This time, the simplest explanation was not the correct one. I sat in the chair next to her. “Sara, to the best of my knowledge, my house is not haunted.”

  She didn’t look satisfied. “Fine. Keep it to yourself. But I know the truth. And I know you’ve been acting strange for the last couple of months. I wish you trusted me enough to come to me with this. Maybe I’m not as closed-minded as you think.”

  Sara went to bed without another word. I wanted to knock on the door and tell her I was sorry. I wanted to spill my guts and tell her everything that had been happening to me—and to her. I wanted to barge in there so I could get into her closet and see Maurice.

  In the end, I had to settle for going to bed and hoping to see him in the morning. At least I knew he was home safe. It would have to be enough for now.

  Chapter Fifteen

  With as little sleep and as much crap as I’d had that day, I expected to fall right to sleep. I did not. The idea that Maurice was home and hadn’t come to see me yet was driving me nuts.

  I didn’t have too long to wait, though. After about a half hour of staring at the ceiling, I heard a light tapping from inside my closet. The door slid open a few inches, and a pair of enormou
s yellow eyes blinked out at me from the darkness. I’d forgotten he could travel from one closet to another.

  “Psst. Zoey. You awake?”

  I was so happy to see him, I nearly knocked him over as he stepped out of the closet. I hugged his skinny shoulders tight. “Are you okay? What took you so long? How long have you been back? Why didn’t you come see me earlier?”

  He grinned down at me. “That’s a lot of questions. I’ve got one for you: Why is there a human sleeping in my room?”

  “Technically, she’s in the guest room. The closet is yours.”

  “Makes it kind of hard to come out when there’s a squatter in there, though. And why the hell was the room so gross when I got in last night?”

  “Pookas are disgusting. He left a few hours before Sara got here.”

  “Wait, there was pooka here while I was gone? Zo, those guys are troublemakers. You never should have let him in. Very bad luck.”

  “Bad luck.” I choked on my laughter. “Bad luck has been my life’s work since you left.”

  “What happened?” His non-existent eyebrows drew together on his chalky face.

  “Nope. You first.”

  I could see he was reluctant to let my story wait, but he gave in. “Well, when I got home, Pansy was out, but that gave me time to straighten the place up for her, make her some dinner so she’d have it ready when she came home. You know how I am.”

  I did know how he was. Cooking and cleaning were how he showed affection. “Did she come home?”

  “Nope. Not for another three days. By then, I had the whole house rearranged, scoured, and two chairs and a light fixture repaired. When she finally came in, she said she was glad to see me. We talked—well, mostly I talked. She agreed to give it another try.”

  “But you’re here now. So didn’t it go so well?”

  “It did not. Oh, Zoey. I’m so stupid. She came and went at all hours. She didn’t clean up after herself because she knew I’d do it. I tried to make her favorite dishes. After a few days, she started telling me what she wanted for dinner, and I made it. Sometimes she came home, sometimes she didn’t. And then I finally realized what was going on.”