“We’re going to blow stuff up,” Colby squealed from Clay’s shoulder. “It’s going to be amazing.”
“I picked up a few boxes from the fireworks stand while I was in town.” Clay shrugged at my scowl. “You, who knows me better than anyone else, left me unsupervised near an explosives display. On clearance.”
Mayor Tate allowed fireworks vendors to set up stands in one parking lot in town. That was it. Just one. I suspected it was meant to nudge the town toward attending her extravaganza rather than enjoying solo celebrations, but that might just be me.
Either way, I never would have left Clay alone there had I not been so panicked about Aedan.
“Some…” he waited a beat then bounced his shoulder, “…might say that makes it as much your fault as it is mine.”
“Shoot.” She fluttered until he settled then landed. “I missed my cue.”
“Ixnay on the ue-cay,” he murmured out of the side of his mouth, rustling her antennae.
“Save it,” I told them, afraid what her lines might be. “If you want to do fireworks, we’ll do fireworks.”
And pray that Mrs. Gleason didn’t see them and join in with whatever shenanigans she had on tap.
“We’ll start a new holiday tradition.” Clay punched the air. “Let’s ring in the Not-New Year.”
“Your talent for originality is breathtaking,” I told him dryly. “The eons have been generous.”
“Just for that, I’m scrapping the part of the program where we write your name in the sky.”
“Please do.” I groaned. “I don’t want the police to see it and view it as a confession.”
“Let’s start setting up.” Colby rubbed her hands together. “Rue, can you bring the scissors?”
“You’re in charge of the kids until I get back.” I pointed at poor Asa. “Don’t let them have any matches.”
“Hurry up with those scissors, Mommy.” Clay took the stairs down at a clip. “I can’t run without them.”
A snort propelled Colby right off his shoulder and into the air, where she barrel-rolled with laughter.
“Please hurry,” Asa agreed when he saw whatever horrors Clay had crammed into the trunk of the SUV.
The fact their pyrotechnics display required this many hours to prep should have scared me more than it did, but I had lived next door to Mrs. Gleason for too long to be frightened so easily.
Hmm.
For the sake of the town, and my new roof, I ought to invite her over and encourage her to detonate her surplus under adult supervision. I could bribe her with hot wings, cold beer, and assorted chips and dips.
A bounce in my step, I took the stairs, let myself into the house, and rummaged through the junk drawer with no luck before recalling that was where Asa had found the twine. Had we used scissors to cut it? Or claws? Teeth? I was hazy on the details, and I wasn’t sure where either of them landed in the aftermath.
Eyes on the prize, I set out to toss Asa’s bedroom before I moved on to mine.
All I needed was a firm headcount, and then I could hit the grocery store.
I was thinking maybe a Coca-Cola cake for dessert…
Ten minutes later, I had no scissors, but I did have a vague memory of my closet.
About to check there, I tripped over the grimoire and smacked my shoulder into the wall to avoid falling.
“What is your problem?” I stood up and marched over to it. “Why can’t you stay where I put you?”
The book would have me believe I knocked it open with my foot, but the page before me said otherwise.
There, written in red ink so dark it might as well have been black, was a list of names.