Page 44 of When I Accidentally Summoned a Demon

Vesper informed me this is significant.

I did not initially understand why a rectangular cavity built into a wooden dresser should hold emotional significance, particularly when I had already accumulated clothing in her closet, boots beside hers, and a black earthenware mug that everyone in the household seems to understand belongs exclusively to me.

Apparently, the drawer is different. So is the toothbrush, though I have gone through four due to my larger, pointed teeth.

There are signs of me throughout the house now, but increasingly, there are also things I simply know. Like which cupboard contains Bethie’s snacks and which cup she will reject for reasons no adult can determine. I know Manny arrives earlier on Tuesdays. I know Vesper becomes quiet rather than irritable when she has worked too long, and that this is when I should place coffee within reach without asking whether she wants it. Or offer a foot massage. This always seems to lead to mating, so I wholeheartedly engage.

I also know we are preparing Bethie for something called pre-K.

I understand its purpose. It is a social environment where children learn alongside other children in preparation for school. This is reasonable. But I despise it.

Vesper appears remarkably calm about sending the little beastie away for several hours at a time. I have concluded this is either extraordinary maternal fortitude or a highly convincing performance.

She insists Bethie will benefit from more structured learning, social interaction, and independence. She also points out that it will give the two of us more time alone.

I reluctantly acknowledge the institution may possess certain advantages. At present, however, the largest obstacle for Bethie appears to be pants.

“No,” Bethie announces.

Vesper holds up another pair of tiny leggings. “You haven’t even tried these.”

“No.”

“They have unicorns.”

“Nonono!”

Bethie abandons negotiations entirely and wraps both arms around my leg. Her attention immediately transfers to my tail, which she captures with both hands.

“Tawl, playplay!” she giggles

Vesper stares at the pile of new clothes covering the bed. I can see the beginning of defeat. I crouch until I am level with Bethie. “Little beastie.”

She looks at me and places her palm on my cheek. “Pwecious.”

“We shall put on these clothes first.” I gesture toward the pile. “Then you may play with my tail.” Which has apparently become her favorite toy.

Her grip tightens, her expression shifting into an adorable pout. I consider further incentive. “And you may have one marshmallow.”

Bethie continues staring.

“Two.” I smirk.

Her arms rise immediately toward Vesper. Vesper’s mouth falls open.

I feel an immediate pang of concern. “Oh, Ves, I apologize. I should have consulted you before offering the marshmallows.”

Instead of chastising me, she leans down and kisses my cheek. “You were perfect. And I think you’ve been here long enough to know what works.”

The words settle warmly inside me. Then her attention shifts to Bethie. “Actually, Bethie bug, if you try on all of these for Mommy—” she sweeps one hand across the clothing mountain “—you can have three marshmallows.”

Bethie’s eyes widen. Vesper and I share a conspiratorial gaze, and her soft approval seems to spread deeper than normal. I memorize her features, but do not dare interrupt the happy moment as Bethie puts on the leggings and squeals.

Later that evening, Vesper tells me that her mother is covering the pre-K expense for now because Rick has again failed to send something called alimony and child-support payments.

I still have not asked her anything about Rick beyond what she has freely offered. It is not my place. I am learning how loving someone does not entitle you to every locked room inside them.

Near midnight, I wake to Vesper’s fingers brushing gently along my shoulder. For a moment, I do not understand why I am sitting upright on the couch.