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“Mine too.” I exhale hard.
Tammy watches Paxton catching and throwing that foam disc thing, then glances over at me. “She’s happy now.”
I watch the kids run around the yard. This isn’t going to last too long before they migrate inside for video games or movies or something. Seems that playing outside is a dying art form. At least Pax definitely does seem to be happy, so that makes me feel better… right up until I remember she’s not an immortal and I’m going to have to watch her grow up, grow old, and go back into the cosmic machinery. She’s a long, long time away from a natural death. It shouldn’t make me maudlin already. I suppose it’s like cats or dogs. You know they’re not going to live forever and it’s going to be devastating when their time comes… yet people get them anyway. Am I destined to become the ‘crazy cat lady,’ only with children? Not like I’d have to wait for Paxton to grow old and pass on before I got a ‘new kitten’. She’s got a normal life ahead of her. Eventually, she’ll become an adult and move out to seek her own life.
Tammy thinks I should adopt another kid once Paxton is out of the house. It’s kinda weird but also kinda reassuring that Tammy herself seems to have no immediate interest in moving away. A daughter staying at home well into adulthood isn’t exactly uncommon these days, especially with the rising costs of housing. But yeah, I could theoretically keep a room or two open for more children; though, could I willingly put such kids in harm’s way? Hadn’t a demon sabotaged my helicopter ride over the Amazon just last month? It had, the little shit.
Well, we’ll see. For now, I had Pax for another four years. At eighteen, she might decide to strike out on her own or go away to college. Four years. Sheesh. Better make the most of it.
“So, this is too much pink?” I ask.
“Yeah, just a bit,” Tammy chuckles. “But she likes it. So, whatever.”
I smile at her. “You know what we need to do, then, to counteract the pink-splosion?”
Tammy raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”
I hold my hand out before me, forefinger up and thumb out, like a painter surveying the landscape. “I’m picturing an all-black gothy birthday party for your nineteenth.”
“Can we not?”
“It’ll be fun.” I wink at her.
She stares at me, unsure if I’m serious or teasing her. Heck, I’m not sure either. “Ma, I’m too old for birthday parties.”
“You’re never too old for birthday parties.” I fold my arms. “My parents insisted I play pin the tail on the donkey when I turned nineteen.”
Tammy gawks. “Please tell me you’re making that up.”
I sigh. “Sadly, no. It was the same no matter how old we got.”
She bites her lip. “Well, I’m too old for birthday parties. They were fun as a kid… and maybe again when you get really old, but in between? Not so much.”
“Too cringe?”
Tammy narrows her eyes. “Not as cringe as you trying to talk like a Zoomer.”
I laugh.
We sit back and watch the pink Frisbee floating around the yard. Looks like most of the kids are starting to get bored with it. I sense a migration inside to the living room soon. Oh well. They played outside for like two hours.
That’s pretty damn impressive in this day and age, isn’t it?
Chapter Three
The Weird Stuff
Work the next day was a bit nuts, even for me.
Had a guy come into the office convinced that space aliens were following him. He wanted to hire an investigator to find them and figure out what they wanted. Now, I am not the sort of PI who would take advantage of a person clearly suffering from mental illness. However, I have also seen evidence of space aliens existing with my own two eyes, so did not immediately dismiss this guy as a lunatic.
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately for him—an afternoon of looking around ended up only confirming the poor man likely had paranoid schizophrenia. At least, I found zero evidence of any kind that aliens (or anything else) were watching this guy. We (that being Tammy and I) inadvertently found some scary things in his little apartment, though, during our follow up report. Bomb-making materials mostly. Yes, we involved law enforcement. The guy claimed he only wanted to defend himself from the aliens and had no plans to hurt any humans… but someone like that might start to see aliens where there aren’t any.
At least he’s getting the help he needs, now. I hope. And no, I did not charge the poor man a dime.
So, yeah. An exciting but not truly exciting day.
Home now. It’s dark out. I’m hunkered down at my dining room table between a laptop and a stack of paperwork. This is the absolute worst part of running my own business—all the damn paperwork. That’s saying something considering I used to work at HUD. Government agencies are 90% paperwork. Sadly, investigations, in general, generate tons of paperwork. Ask any cop.
