Silver Fox (Silver Shifters 2)

“Thanks for the thought, but it’s a four-hour drive, and anyway, this isn’t exactly forest fire weather. And what else could happen?”

A slight pause, then Bird said, “He could be there faster than you think.”

Bird paused again, as if she was expecting some kind of reply. Like . . . ?

Doris reflected that Bird—though the most honest person she knew, as well as kind, generous, and compassionate—was a bit of an odd duck. And seemed to be getting odder, now that she was married. No, not odd, it was more like she seemed to weigh her words in a way she never had before, then she’d say things like that, and wait. For what?

On the other hand, she was truly happy.

Meanwhile, Bird was going on, “I’m so very glad that you were able to help Joey, but . . . his, uh, camping place is by your house?” Bird sounded worried.

“It’s really okay. He and Xi Yong and the twins are here, warm, and dry. And like I said, we have enough food to outlast a New England blizzard. Which doesn’t happen in Southern California—this snow is sure to melt off in a day or two. And, well—I don’t even know quite how to talk about this, but . . .”

“I hope you and Joey are friends?” Bird said into Doris’s pause, her voice sounding determinedly cheery now. “I really think you’d like each other. Mikhail thinks so too.”

“Well, you were right,” Doris said. “I never . . . I didn’t think . . . I, uh, don’t really even know how to have this conversation. But I’m figuring it out. And this is why I called. He said something you’ve said. About consensus reality. It felt like he was saying something else. And not to the seven-year-old in front of him. I mean, who even talks to seven-year-olds about consensus reality?”

The phone was so silent Doris thought it had gone dead on her. When a cramp in her fingers called her attention to how tightly she was gripping the receiver, she sighed again. “Bird? Do I sound like an idiot here?”

“No.” Bird was emphatic. “You don’t.”

“Is it weird, or just me, to feel that there might have been another conversation going on there?”

Another silence, then Bird said, “Mikhail trusts Joey Hu with his life. I do, too. Do you… Can you trust him?”

Doris found herself gripping the phone again. She made her hand relax. “I’m beginning to. But like I said, new territory.”

Bird was silent again, then she spoke slowly, as if picking her words. “All the years we’ve known each other, I always thought you liked knowing exactly what was going to happen each day.”

“Well, yes,” Doris admitted. “Who doesn’t?”

“And what you didn’t like were surprises, especially things that . . . were unexpected. That might change how the world looks. Even if. Maybe. It might be . . . something for the better?”

Bird was definitely sounding odd again.

“No, but my family is very much that way, at least most of them. I guess I’ve accepted their worldview in that I’ve tried to run my life in an orderly way. And, yeah, I was settling safely into my little niche, but I’m beginning to realize it was starting to crowd me. The thing I’ve been thinking is, well, ever since I met Joey, I’m beginning to feel that my safe box is actually a cage. And I want out.”

“Yes.” Bird hissed the word. “Oh, yes. I was the same. Talk to Joey, Doris. Have this same conversation with him. And really, be careful up there. Okay?”

Doris laughed at her friend’s earnest tone. Bird was so sweet! “Bird, you know we’ve been coming up here for years. There is no fire danger, for the first time in whenever. Nor have we ever faced howling packs of wolves—”

“Doris! There you are!”

Doris’s mother stood in the doorway. Doris hadn’t even heard the door sliding open.

Mom looked tired and sounded fretful. “If someone doesn’t collect all the bath towels, there won’t be a stitch left in the house! I simply cannot be in fifty places at once, and there’s still dinner to start! Heaven forfend Marrit ever lifts a one of those black-polished fingernails of hers. . .”

Doris looked at her mother, remembering that her next birthday would be her eightieth. Though Mom had always seemed ageless, she did get tired.

“Thanks,” Doris said into the phone. “Gotta go.” And to her mother, “I’ll get started on the laundry. Why don’t you go take a nap? Sylvia and I can handle the kitchen.”

“Do the dish towels first. We’re down to two, count them, two. Everything else smells moldy, though your friend hung them up so nice last night—don’t think I didn’t notice. But it’s so humid in here, nothing dries all the way. And that reminds me, you didn’t say if he’s single?”

Doris had to hand it to her mom. When it came to whiplash subject changes, she was the Olympic champ.

But that didn’t mean Doris had to play in that game.

“On my way to collect the towels, Mom,” Doris said, hustling through the kitchen toward the nearest bathroom. She managed to hold in her laughter until she got there.