grateful.
As expected, Hanroi ignored her, and she had to physically lift him off the counter. He struggled, and knocked the avocado seed off the counter and onto Bree, leaving a streak of green on her orange ballet neck sweater. She dabbed at the spot with a sponge, exasperated, and the lid began to rattle on the pot of water. She gave up temporarily on her sweater and took off the lid and dumped a package of spaghetti into it. As she was giving it a stir, the doorbell rang. She hurried through the dining and living rooms and the hall to the front door, Hanroi scampering along behind, and opened it to find Dion had arrived for the pow wow first.
Dion Evans was one of her oldest friends. They’d met when they were both thirteen, in junior high, and had gone on to attend the same specialized private high school for powered kids on the outskirts of Seattle. He was a ridiculously good looking African-American man with a killer smile and a honey warm voice. He was a bit of a womanizer, and Bree was deeply grateful she’d never fallen for him, as she was pretty sure he made a much better friend than boyfriend.
They hugged each other hello, and he took off his coat and hung it on one of the hooks in the hall. He was wearing a maroon cashmere sweater and black jeans with a polished pair of black boots. They were having a last cold snap, and it was chilly enough out for winter coats and sweaters.
He leaned over and scooped up Hanroi, rubbing under the cat's chin vigorously. “Man am I hungry!” he exclaimed as he followed her back into the kitchen. “I had an early shift today, so I had lunch around eleven. Seems like eons ago.” He put the cat down on the floor, then reached into the salad bowl and plucked a chunk of avocado off the top and put it into his mouth. Bree slapped his hand as he dove for a second. “Back, back I say!” she exclaimed. “Don’t manhandle my salad. Dinner’s only ten or fifteen minutes away. I’m sure you can survive until then.”
“Any thing I can do to help? I’m all about getting the dinner train moving.”
“You can set the table. I’m running way behind.”
Daniel showed up shortly thereafter, and Dion let him in. Bree was just pulling the foil wrapped loaf of garlic bread out of the oven, when he came into the kitchen. He was definitely not the clothes horse Dion was. He'd come in his faded navy turtleneck cotton sweater and jeans. Daniel had a predilection for blue clothes, some kind of symbolic power balancing thing for all the fire in his nature. “Perfect timing,” Bree told him as she pulled off her oven mitts and handed him the salad bowl. “Here, put this on the table, we’re just about ready.”
“Yes Ma’am!” he answered with a smile, and moved to obey her, nearly tripping over the cat, which had twined around his legs.
In just a few moments, the three of them were arrayed around the table in the small dining room between the kitchen and the living room. Steam from the boiling pasta had made it into the room and fogged up the window. Condensation was running in drops down the rectangular panes as they passed around the salad, spaghetti with marinara sauce and garlic bread. Bree had bribed Hanroi to keep out of their way by putting some canned cat food in his food dish, so they were blissfully undisturbed by feline attentions. Dion poured out the Merlot Daniel had brought along, and soon they were tucking into dinner.
After some initial relaxed small talk as they all sated the worst of their hunger, Dion asked, “So what’s with the meeting? I mean hey, I’m glad you’re feeding me and all, but I get the feeling this isn’t just a social occasion.”
Daniel looked to Bree, clearly signaling her to start, and she put down her fork before replying. “Daniel and I did an exorcism on Sunday,” she began.
“Right on!” Dion broke in with an electric smile. “Way to get back on the horse!”
Bree rolled her eyes at him while she
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