Page 27 of Heir to a Curse
“The fire in the kitchen doesn’t seem to have a cause. Now the shrine is damaged and we can’t figure out why.” There had been no reports of storms the night before, so the only explanation was my dream, which left an unease in my gut every time I thought about it. “Breaking the curse was about true love or something. I’m not exactly the guy to pick for that. I’m an old queen set in my ways. Was never good at love to begin with. She’d have been better choosing you.” My few relationships had been fleeting and frustrating. Me trying to find that emotional connection I needed, while everyone else was focused on sex. “I’m broken.”
“You’re demi-romantic, not broken. Just means you need more than a quick fuck to make you happy.”
“I’ve had plenty of good quick fucks,” I defended.
“But not loves. And that’s fine. Don’t let the world define how you feel. You are valid too.”
I let out a long sigh. Never a fan of labels, the few that seemed to fit kept me outcast. “My point is that I’m not likely to find true love to break the curse. I’m not young, and I’m a cynical bastard. Who wants that?”
“You mentioned a twink who works in the kitchen here? Maybe you and he can get together and do a little curse breaking?”
“Yeah, no.” I said. “He’s a kid. And technically he works for me now.”
“You, my friend, are sounding old.”
“I am old. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re not much younger despite the fact that you don’t look a day over thirty.”
She preened. “Again, I’m reminded why I love you.”
I sighed; happy she was there. The months I’d been unable to see her because of this social distance thing had been painful. Alone in a pandemic was hard and made normal loneliness even harder to handle. “Let’s go get the stuff you brought me.”
“I used the furniture you picked as inspiration. Called Madison, since you said you chose a lot from her.” We walked back toward the truck together. My gaze fell on the rabbit again. Maybe I’d find some sort of safe space for him. An area I could toss food so he would keep hanging around all year. Did rabbits hibernate? I couldn’t recall.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m no good at that sort of thing. When I went furniture shopping, I picked stuff that felt right for the space.”
“Well you did great. Maybe we’ll have you do a few more of these sorts of things down the road.”
“Yeah, no,” I said holding out my arms once we were at the truck so she could load me up. Addy’s truck was the spitting image of mine, only hers was bright blue in color, while mine was white. I’d figured a work truck should look like a work truck. She thought even a truck deserved a little bit of style. We hauled everything back to the cabin, having to make a couple trips because small design stuff added up very quickly.
The curtains ended up being a mix of the blue, gold, and black of the furniture, lined with a nice black-out curtain to help on the few days I decided to rest for real. The bedding a stack of simple cotton solid sheets, but an actual silk quilt that made me squint at her.
“What? It only seemed right to get you the real thing to match the space.”
“Real silk?” I said, reading the tag which said it was not only real silk, but handmade. “What if I snag it or something?” I ran my hands over the soft top, marveling at the embroidery. Cherry blossoms wouldn’t have been my normal choice, but it was simple and elegant, as well as matched the décor. A lot of the colors pulled directly from the picture above the bed.
“It wasn’t that expensive.”
“That was a lie. You’re a horrible liar,” I reminded her as I installed the curtain rods and she hung them.
“Okay so it was a little expensive. But I saw it a while back, and when you sent me pictures of what you’d done, I thought it would be the perfect fit. When I went back to the store today and they still had it, I knew it was meant to be.”
It was. Though I wasn’t sure I needed anything so divine. “Me caveman,” I grunted, pounding my chest.
She laughed. I smiled at the sound, so missed after months of solitude. “I’ve worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” I promised. “Still working.”
“And always alone.”
“I have Mike and Jerry. I see them almost every day. A handful of the other guys too,” I promised.
“It’s not the same as going home to a friend or someone you love. Not right now.” She stared at me with big eyes filled with sadness. “And you just lost your mom.”
That hit me like a wallop to the gut. She hadn’t been. Not really. I mean she couldn’t have been. And yet in a way, she was. Sofia. I had to blink hard to keep the tears from spilling and becoming a blubbering idiot. “I’m okay,” I whispered.
“And that’s a lie,” she echoed. It was. We both knew it was.
Sofia had been there for every accomplishment. She’d encouraged me through the hard times. Helped guide me through the disaster of the last housing bust and given me loans to get the construction business started. She exclaimed with excitement over every house and completed job. And never judged my lack of relationships. I missed calling her a couple times a week just to talk. She’d go on about some annoying relative and I’d talk about a tile job that had taken longer than necessary or a client who kept changing their mind. Those things had become normal to me. Stripped away, I missed the simplicity of them.