Page 36 of The Night
“’Fraid not,” Gideon said.
“Ah, well. Anyway, I’m serious about the flu. Quinn, that’s Paul’s husband,” he added with a nod to me, “was in earlier to get some coffee because he can’t brew it in the house without… you know.” He made a retching noise.
“Charming,” Gideon said.
I rubbed my forehead. “What’s the good news?”
“Well.” Cal set the tray in the center of the tiny table. “Mountains of frosting today, pumpkin cream cheese muffins tomorrow?”
“Yes!” Hazel said, quietly exultant. “What’s on Sunday?”
Gideon and I exchanged a look, and I expected an explosion of outrage. I expected him to turn the air blue with hisfa la las.
Instead, to my shock, he gave a resigned sigh. “Sucks, but what can you do?”
I stared at him, wondering if he’dliterallyorgasmed his brain out the night before, or if he was always this slow in the morning.
“Uh, we can find someone else.”Duh.“If we don’t get this done today, that means me sticking around untilMonday!”
“Yeah, I figured.” Gideon nodded. “It’s fine—”
I shook my head vehemently.“It’ssonot. What’s the closest town? Rushton? I’m guessing they have a notary, right? I mean, we’re not looking for a fu—” I took a deep breath. “Afa la la-ingunicorn here, Gideon!” I fought to keep my voice calm and failed.
Fortunately, Hazel was too frosting-delirious to notice.
“They do!” Cal looked sympathetic and maybe a trifle wary. “But Rushton has a festival very similar to our winter festival—”
Constantine leaned toward our table and said darkly, “Lies. It’s a pitiful imitation.”
“I don’t think Liam cares, Connie. Thing is, that’s tomorrow—”
“Because they think if they have it a week before ours, they can take bragging rights!” Henry called from a table by the window.
“What Cal’s trying to say is that Rushton’s more or less closed down today and tomorrow for the preparation and the festival. Kids are off school and businesses are closed.” Gideon shrugged. “It’s a thing.”
“It’s afa la la-inginsanething!”I said desperately.
“Wouldn’t it be awesome to go to school here?” Hazel asked no one in particular. Her mouth was brown with cinnamon, and her teeth were gooey with frosting.
“’Fraid it’s not always like that, Hazel Grace,” Gideon informed her. “Kids here get fewer snow days than other places. It all evens out.”
She shrugged, unconcerned about theoretical snow days when she could have a very real day offnow, and I very much envied that ability to live in the moment.
“What about the town I passed on the way here?” I looked around the bakery. “Camden?”
Caelan looked at Gideon, who shrugged and looked at Con, who shrugged and pulled out his phone.
“According to the internet, Phil Grant is the only result,” he said gloomily.
“Oh, no way. No.Nope!” Ash called from behind the counter. “Cal, you remember him? From when we were sorting out our legal stuff?”
“I remember,” Cal said. “Phil Grant is a homophobic piece of…candy.” He glanced at Hazel. “The nastiest, most vile… candy. I’m sure he’d love to help you two get your—”
“Grown-up business!” I interrupted, tilting my head toward Hazel significantly.
“Right. He’d love to help you with that, and he’d be smirking the whole time. Seriously, he’s awful.”
I rubbed my face with two hands, exhausted and frustrated.