Page 6 of Lovely Darkness

“No. But we’re guests here.”

“Take my fucking hand, Wendy.”

She does. I pull her out of bed and then she stands there, naked, as I hunt down her clothes and help her back into them just as carefully as I helped her out of them a few hours ago.

This might be our first time at Old Home, but we both know how the floorboards creak because we log that kind of shit when we go new places. It’s just habit. So we carry our boots as we make our way downstairs and end up in the dark kitchen. There’s a little bit of moonlight filtering through past the trees outside, but not much.

“This way,” Wendy whispers. We’re holding hands, so when she moves, she takes me with her down the central hallway that leads to the front of the house.

But then we pause at the front door, eyeballing the security system.

“It’s not armed,” I say. And then, as quietly as we can, we open the front door, cringe as we open the creaky screen door, and then finally close them both behind us and find ourselves on the front porch.

It’s August, so even though it’s the middle of the night, it’s humid and hot out here. But there’s a little bit of wind and the gauzy curtains that line the sides of the massive outdoor living-room pavilion in front of the gardens wave and billow, beckoning us.

Wendy makes the decision, so that’s where we head.

It’s a nice outdoor room. Not new, either. It’s been here for a while because it’s all custom carpentry and the wood has a slightly aged look to it. There’s a kitchen and a fireplace, and a TV above the fireplace. There’s also a large, flat swing that is as big as a bed.

“This is nice.”

“It is,” I agree. Very nice. We walk into the center of the room and turn to find a perfect view of a moonlit lake.

“Can’t sleep?”

Wendy and I both turn, not exactly startled, but not exactly not, either. There is an old man leaning against a corner pillar smoking a cigarette. He blows out smoke and then comes out from behind the billowing gauzy curtain so we can see him.

“Doc?” Wendy asks.

“Hiya, Wendy.”

“You two old friends or something?” I ask her.

“Sure.” Wendy lets go of my hand and walks over to him. They hug. Then she turns. “This is Doc. He used to take care of me when I got hurt.”

“Oh.” I nod, then frown as I’m forced to imagine Wendy getting hurt and needing a doctor as a child. It makes sense, though. It’s just… she never got hurt bad enough to need official medical attention when I was there so I never saw her like that.

I don’t like picturing it.

“And you’re the infamous Nick Tate.” All these deep, growly words come with a smile. He walks towards me offering a hand. “I’m Doc. Old friend of the family.” He nods his head at the mansion. “Retired now. For a long time, actually. But Adam kept me on the payroll for Indie’s sake.” He pauses. “And now Donovan’s.”

I shake his hand. “Nice to meet you. And yeah, I’m Nick.”

Doc smiles at me. He’s got a nice face. A doctor’s face. One that’s seen things. One that, I suspect, doesn’t show a lot of emotion or surprise when shit goes off the rails. “I knew your father well. We were…” He sighs. “Not friendly.”

“Sorry about that. But I’m nothing like my father.”

“No. Nothing like him at all.”

I’m not really sure what that means, but I don’t have time to think about it. Because Doc repeats his question. “Can’t sleep?” He’s talking to Wendy.

She nods her head. “I’m feeling unsettled. The long drive, maybe.”

It’s not the long drive. We live for long drives. And maybe Doc doesn’t understand that, but he does see right through her excuse, because he says, “Would you like something to get you through the night?”

“No.” Wendy doesn’t even hesitate. “I don’t like to take drugs to get me through the hard parts. I prefer to deal with it.”

Doc smiles at me. Like I’m the one responsible for this answer. But the smile is brief, and so is his attention on me. “Very mature of you, Wendy. I’m glad to hear it.” He makes a circle with his finger in the air. “But if you’re gonna go for a walk, I’d stay out of those woods. There are creatures in there. Not nice ones, either.”