Page 16 of Holiday Wishes and Tentacle Dreams

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Shit. It was knocking. Someone was knocking at the door.

“Hold on!” Jake called out, jumping out of bed and orienting himself. Glancing at his phone, he realized that he’d slept almost twenty-four hours. He’d arrived at about eleven a.m., and instead of taking the quick nap he’d planned on, he’d been out the entire night.

That wasn’t good. He hoped it was a fluke, but sleeping that much was a big warning sign for him. He could be entering a deeper depressive cycle. Not that he didn’t have his reasons, considering the circumstances, but being depressed wouldn’t help the situation.

He rushed down the narrow staircase to the first floor, striding toward the door. An old woman was visible through the glass. With pure white hair, and wearing a navy fisherman’s bucket hat and a cream sweater dotted in tiny illustrated lighthouses, she cut quite the figure.

Pulling open the door, Jake forced a smile. His hair was wild, he was sure, and these were clearly pajamas, but hopefully she wouldn’t judge him for that.

“Uh…hi? Can I help you?”

“Why, yes, you can, young man!” the older woman said, rushing past Jake and making a beeline for the kitchen counter. It was then Jake noticed she was carrying a…pie? Had she brought pie?

“I’m, uh, Jake. My grandmother owns this beach house, and I’m staying for the winter.” The woman nodded, saying nothing as she rifled through the kitchen drawers. “Who are you?”

“Dorothea. A local, and one of the Watchers.” Opening a drawer and finding what she was looking for, Dorothea squealed, removing a big knife and brandishing it. “I hope you like blueberry.”

Jake’s eyes went wide. Blueberry pie was hisfavorite. How had she known? Questions about why this old woman was in his house, or what the hell a Watcher was, were gone from his mind. He was going to get blueberry pie!

“I love blueberry pie!”

Pulling two plates from the cupboard, Dorothea beckoned for Jake to sit at the kitchen table before cutting two pieces and plopping them onto the plates with aplomb. Grabbing two small forks, she set one in front of Jake and sat across from him with the other one.

“Well, dig in. I baked it this morning.” Without waiting, Dorothea stabbed into the pie with her fork, brought it to her mouth, and sighed.

Jake couldn’t hold off any longer. He took a bite and let out a moan. It was embarrassingly loud, but he couldn’t help it. The sweet warm burst of the blueberries and the solid crunch of the flaky crust were a joyous combination. After he was done, the blood rushed to his face. “Sorry…”

“Don’t worry your head over it, young man,” Dorothea said, balancing another bite on her fork. “I bake a pie every morning, and I still let out a few sounds of appreciation when I have my first bite. It’s better than sex. And I should know. I’ve had alotof sex in my lifetime.”

Jake’s face was getting warmer and warmer, but that didn’t stop him from devouring the delicious pie. The two sat in silence for a few minutes as they ate, basking in the joy of the pastry together. Honestly, the blueberry pie was the best thing to happen to Jake in a few weeks.

As he finished up, a wave of self-consciousness hit him, followed by suspicion. What was this woman doing in his grandmother’s house?

“Can I, uh, help you with something?”

The question not even registering on her face, Dorothea stood and collected the dishes, bringing them over to the sink. She turned on the hot water to wash them, leaving Jake to stare. He should get up and help her, right? Dorothea was a guest in his home.

Except was she? He hadn’t invited her in, regardless of how much he loved the blueberry pie. Was she a weirdo, or was this just how all Mainers were?

He was about to press her further when she pulled out a kitchen towel from a nearby drawer and finally answered his question.

“You can consider me the welcome wagon, sweetheart.” She kept her gaze trained on the section of beach that was visible through the window over the sink, even as she dried the platesand forks. “Only a few young folks stay the winter. It's mostly just us old-timers, and we like to make sure new people are comfortable. And keep an eye on things.”

“The Watchers?” Jake asked, remembering how Dorothea had identified herself when she’d come in.

She nodded, still staring out at the ocean, continuing to run the towel over an already-dry dish.

“There are eight of us. Well, seven, now that Margot moved up to Bangor to live with her nephew and his husband.” Dorothea slid the plate, long-bereft of any trace of water, into its place in the cupboard. “The Linwood Falls Society of Watchers.”

“Uh…what do you watch?” Uneasiness threaded through the air around them. It sounded like a coven of witches more than anything else. Very New England-y. Jake didn’t want to get on the wrong side of a Maine council of elders, whether they could do magic or not.

Dorothea turned from the window and smiled, making her way in her old woman’s gait back to the kitchen table and plopping down once more.

“The ocean, of course! This entire area is known for its sea monsters.”

“What?” Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Dorothea. He’d never heard of that, but then again he’d never visited Linwood Falls before now.