Page 18 of Starved Until Sunset

He looked a little emotional, and Demetrius wondered if he shouldn’t have said anything. Then he remembered the cross inside the door. “Was your grandmother very religious?”

Cody frowned. “Religious? I don’t know. She went to church, but she also swore a lot. Why?”

“There’s a cross hanging just inside her door. I’d never noticed it before, so thought I would ask.”

“Cross?”

“Yeah. A small one hanging from a string of beads.”

“A rosary?”

“Oh, maybe?” Demetrius made a face. “I should have taken a picture of it.”

“It’s no big deal. I’ll pay her a visit tomorrow and check it out myself. I don’t remember a cross hanging there either. I wonder if one of the nurses put it up or something.”

“Could be. Do they have a pastor or priest who visits out there?”

“They do, but I’ve never heard of him going to see Felicia. We were raised Lutheran.”

“That’s right. I remember going to Christmas Eve services with your family a few times.”

Cody grinned. “You got the full Bower family experience those nights, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yes. A very thorough Bower family experience.”

They both laughed. It felt good and natural, and Demetrius was glad he hadn’t mentioned Amelia’s suggestion. He didn’t like to keep secrets from Cody, but it had just been something mentioned in passing. It wasn’t like he was going to go by City Hall and ask for a small business application. He’d be laughed back out onto the street. Wouldn’t he?

And besides, he didn’t miss risking his life going up against creatures straight out of a nightmare. He was enjoying the peace and quiet of a steady paycheck and a calm and happy home life. They were in their thirties now, and it was time to start acting like adults.

CHAPTER FOUR

Cody knew Demmy had something on his mind. After nearly a lifetime of friendship before their relationship had developed into something deeper and better, Cody could always tell when Demmy was working through something. It had taken Cody a while to understand Demmy wasn’t intentionally keeping secrets, that he was just more independent because of his childhood. As the only child to older parents, Demmy had come to rely on himself to work through things. He’d told Cody once before that he’d tried to talk with his parents about things, but they were so far removed from what life was like for someone his age, it hadn’t been helpful.

Understanding Demmy’s internal process when it came to bigger decisions, Cody had learned to give him space and not push him to talk about things. Over the years, especially recently, Demmy had become much more open about what he was mentally working through. But sometimes the issue might be so big or involved he wasn’t ready to share it right away, not even with Cody.

And since he’d come back from Amelia’s the day before, Demmy had been a little more quiet and withdrawn. His expression was just a bit more pinched than usual, his eyes a tiny bit narrower, which helped to emphasize the shallow lines extending from the corners. Cody gave him the space he needed, although he would be the first to admit if Demmy was thinking about something that hard, it made him more than a little nervous.

To give Demmy even more space, Cody spent Sunday morning working in the small back and front yards, raking up leaves and clearing out the plants and flowers that were done for the season. He could hear the quiet patter of Trevor’s feet as the raccoon paced up and down the wooden ramp leading to his shelter. Somewhere off in the distance, a bird called and another answered. The sun was warm and relaxing across his shoulders and the back of his neck as he moved on hands and knees along the edge of the flower bed.

“You never put this much work into the yard when we were growing up.”

Cody sat back on his heels and looked over his shoulder. His brother, Dave, stood in the driveway, grinning at him. He wore sweatpants and a Parson’s Hollow High hoodie, of all things.

“Mom and Dad never paid enough for household chores,” Cody said.

“I think they’d disagree, seeing as we all ate them out of house and home.” Dave approached, then stopped as he heard Trevor chirp at him. “Good God, I will never get used to you having a pet raccoon.”

Cody shot a dark look at Trevor, who was sitting up on his hind legs on a small platform outside the shelter. “He’s not a pet. He’s a squatter.”

“A squatter you built a shelter for.”

“Better that than to have him constantly trying to hitch a ride home from the woods.”

“Look at you, getting all soft and compassionate in your old age.”

Cody frowned. “Old age? I’m only two years older than you.”

“Hence the phrase, old age.” Dave grinned and pushed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Want some help?”