it’s spreading and, well, it was no surprise people loved the band.
Literally.
Without her, things wouldn’t go as well.
Not ego. Fact.
All right, fine; a little ego.
She didn’t owe the other members of Dun Good anything. They weren’t family. But they had been together for over a year, and breaking up via text seemed like a bad high school cliché, so Tuesday evening found Charlie at Taylor and Donna’s one-bedroom basement apartment, guitar slung on her back, fully aware she might have to charm the lot of them if things got ugly.
Noise spilled out through the open door. Charlie’d arrived last by intent. She stepped over a grubby gray backpack, moved down the short hall to the living room, and saw a natural redhead she didn’t recognize. Strange. The apartment was so small, even Donna usually vacated the premises when the band met there.
“Charlie!”
“Tony!”
Tony grinned a little too broadly. “This is Kristie!”
Charlie nodded at Kristie and glanced around the room. Taylor stood in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed. Jeff straddled a chair over by the television. They were both watching Tony. The redhead, Kristie, gave a little wave.
“You replaced Kristie, you know when you started, last um . . .” Tony’s voice trailed off, then his smile broadened back out again. “She had a baby! Uh, anyway, she was thinking of coming back and well, me and Jeff have known her since high school and . . .”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I know this is . . .”
Charlie raised a hand and cut him off again. “I’m talking to the universe, Tony. But thanks for playing.”
Allie twisted the end of her braid around her finger, perilously close to pouting. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I’ve left before,” Charlie reminded her, checking to make sure she’d put a couple pairs of underwear in the outside pocket of her gig bag.
“Sure, a week or two touring with the band . . .”
“Before that.”
“That was before this.” Her gestured somehow seemed to take in the entire city of Calgary. “This is the first time after this. And the first time since this when I don’t know when you’ll be back.”
It took Charlie a moment to parse that. Since Calgary, she’d toured on a schedule, out and back like an Emporium yoyo. This trip, no string. She wanted to say, I always come back to you, but the words got stuck, so she wrapped a hand around the back of Allie’s head, pulled her in close, and kissed her instead.
“Yeah.” Allie’s smile looked bittersweet as they pulled apart. “That’s what I thought. Are you going to talk to Gran?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m feeling manipulated enough.”
“It hardly counts as wild when the whole universe is telling you to hit the road,” Graham muttered. His arms were crossed and his brows drawn in, but odds were he was reacting to Allie’s mood not Charlie’s imminent departure.
“That’s what I’m saying.” Charlie moved in close, waited pointedly until he unfolded his arms, then kissed him, too, tracing a quick charm on the damp skin behind his ear for Allie to find later. “You’ll have to be the man of the house while I’m gone,” she said, as she stepped away. “Think you’re up to it?”
“At the moment, I can’t think why I let you hang around.”
Charlie grinned. “Takes a village to raise a dragon. And speaking of . . .”
“He won’t come out of his room.” Allie half turned toward Jack’s door.
“Then I’ll just have to go to him.”
“He slammed the door and a power grid went up.”
“Sorcery?”
“You think? He knows he’s not supposed to do sorcery in the apartment.”
“He was angry. He probably didn’t do it on purpose.”
“You’re always making excuses for him.” Allie tossed her braid behind her shoulder. “He won’t let you in.”
“He won’t let you in,” Charlie corrected, crossing the living room. So what if she occasionally made excuses for Jack; she
Literally.
Without her, things wouldn’t go as well.
Not ego. Fact.
All right, fine; a little ego.
She didn’t owe the other members of Dun Good anything. They weren’t family. But they had been together for over a year, and breaking up via text seemed like a bad high school cliché, so Tuesday evening found Charlie at Taylor and Donna’s one-bedroom basement apartment, guitar slung on her back, fully aware she might have to charm the lot of them if things got ugly.
Noise spilled out through the open door. Charlie’d arrived last by intent. She stepped over a grubby gray backpack, moved down the short hall to the living room, and saw a natural redhead she didn’t recognize. Strange. The apartment was so small, even Donna usually vacated the premises when the band met there.
“Charlie!”
“Tony!”
Tony grinned a little too broadly. “This is Kristie!”
Charlie nodded at Kristie and glanced around the room. Taylor stood in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed. Jeff straddled a chair over by the television. They were both watching Tony. The redhead, Kristie, gave a little wave.
“You replaced Kristie, you know when you started, last um . . .” Tony’s voice trailed off, then his smile broadened back out again. “She had a baby! Uh, anyway, she was thinking of coming back and well, me and Jeff have known her since high school and . . .”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I know this is . . .”
Charlie raised a hand and cut him off again. “I’m talking to the universe, Tony. But thanks for playing.”
Allie twisted the end of her braid around her finger, perilously close to pouting. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I’ve left before,” Charlie reminded her, checking to make sure she’d put a couple pairs of underwear in the outside pocket of her gig bag.
“Sure, a week or two touring with the band . . .”
“Before that.”
“That was before this.” Her gestured somehow seemed to take in the entire city of Calgary. “This is the first time after this. And the first time since this when I don’t know when you’ll be back.”
It took Charlie a moment to parse that. Since Calgary, she’d toured on a schedule, out and back like an Emporium yoyo. This trip, no string. She wanted to say, I always come back to you, but the words got stuck, so she wrapped a hand around the back of Allie’s head, pulled her in close, and kissed her instead.
“Yeah.” Allie’s smile looked bittersweet as they pulled apart. “That’s what I thought. Are you going to talk to Gran?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m feeling manipulated enough.”
“It hardly counts as wild when the whole universe is telling you to hit the road,” Graham muttered. His arms were crossed and his brows drawn in, but odds were he was reacting to Allie’s mood not Charlie’s imminent departure.
“That’s what I’m saying.” Charlie moved in close, waited pointedly until he unfolded his arms, then kissed him, too, tracing a quick charm on the damp skin behind his ear for Allie to find later. “You’ll have to be the man of the house while I’m gone,” she said, as she stepped away. “Think you’re up to it?”
“At the moment, I can’t think why I let you hang around.”
Charlie grinned. “Takes a village to raise a dragon. And speaking of . . .”
“He won’t come out of his room.” Allie half turned toward Jack’s door.
“Then I’ll just have to go to him.”
“He slammed the door and a power grid went up.”
“Sorcery?”
“You think? He knows he’s not supposed to do sorcery in the apartment.”
“He was angry. He probably didn’t do it on purpose.”
“You’re always making excuses for him.” Allie tossed her braid behind her shoulder. “He won’t let you in.”
“He won’t let you in,” Charlie corrected, crossing the living room. So what if she occasionally made excuses for Jack; she