Silver Fox (Silver Shifters 2)

Consensus reality . . .

She stopped right outside the kitchen. He hadn’t told the kids they were wrong, or that they were making things up. She’d appreciated that. Lon especially seemed to be sensitive to adult scoffing. But . . . consensus reality? What even was that?

And where had she heard that recently?

She snapped her fingers. It was Bird!

She opened the kitchen door. Her mother let out a squawk, nearly dropping a tray of freshly baked cookies. “Doris! You’re underfoot.”

> “I thought you needed me to—”

“Sylvia’s got it in hand. Out, out, out! You can make the pies for tonight.”

Doris exited the kitchen. She had a sudden, overwhelming desire to talk to Bird. Only her cell was in her car, turned off because it was useless up here. Cells never got any bars—but there was that old rotary phone.

She entered the den and headed for the alcove, then paused when she heard voices. Granny Z was saying, “Oh, I think it’s funny when they threaten me, those telephone spammers. He doesn’t know where I live.”

“Scammers, Gran,” Nicola said. “I guess you have to have your fun, but still …”

“They think they can bully this old trout into giving them my social security number, but they’ll learn, I hope. Besides, if I’m making them listen to my silly stories, they aren’t bothering some other poor soul.”

Nicola said, “Well, now that you’re done, I need to use this phone right now. We’re not getting out of here tomorrow, and I need to call in to make sure my shift at the store is covered.”

Granny Z tottered out of the alcove. “Oh, there you are, Doris! Such a nice young man, your friend. So polite and helpful. And so are those young people he brought. But where’s the one from China? I wanted to ask him some more questions about mahjong.”

“He might be in the TV room,” Doris said. “I haven’t seen him all morning, but that could be said for half the people in the house. Can I bring you some lunch?”

Somehow the word ‘lunch’ spread through the house, and pretty soon the kitchen was full of voices and the clatter of serving dishes and crockery, after which people departed in various directions carrying their food.

Joey wasn’t among them. Doris walked through the house, poking her head in every room that held the buzz of conversation, and asked, “Can I bring you anything more?” while she looked specifically for Joey. But he and Xi Yong were missing.

Doris made her way back, checked the mud room—and their jackets were both there.

Bathroom? she wondered, and then, Now I’m being a creeper. She drew the line at banging on bathroom doors!

She skirted her mother, who was flapping a dishcloth for emphasis, ducked past Sylvia’s elbow, and slipped into the den. Her father and Granny Z were eating in there, the chessboard set between them. If those two were deep in a game of chess, a bomb could go off right outside the window and they wouldn’t so much as blink.

Doris rounded the corner into the alcove, and quietly slid the door shut. She was alone with the phone.

She dialed Bird’s number, half-expecting it to go straight to voicemail.

But on the second ring, there was Bird. “Hello?”

“Bird, it’s Doris.”

“Oh! I didn’t recognize this number,” came Bird’s cheerful voice. “It didn’t look like the usual prefix for scammers, but these days . . . wait. Are you okay?”

“I’m up at the grandpa house. The only phone that works is this old landline. We’re fine. We did get snowed in, but we have a ton of food. You know the Lebowitzes and food—pack for Napoleon’s army on the march to Russia. Which is just as well, because it turns out that we’ve got a small army. Besides the family, Joey is here with the twins and his Chinese student.”

“Joey Hu?” Bird repeated.

“Joey Hu. The very same.” Doris’s every nerve heated with fire as she said his name. She drew a deep breath. “They were going to have a campout, but the snow came as a surprise—and it turned out they were right on the road above us. Of course, there are only two roads in and out of town. So I guess it’s not that strange, if you’re going to pick this lake in the first place . . .” Aware that she was babbling, Doris stopped. “Uh, still there?”

“Do you need . . . help?”

Doris laughed. “Like I said, we’re fine, though snowed in. You and Godiva and Jen don’t need to gallop to my rescue.” She chuckled at the idea of Godiva, in her mid-eighties, charging up the mountain. Though she’d do it.

“Well,” Bird said slowly. “I was thinking of Mikhail. If you needed help. In any way.”