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“I will,” she promised him. He helped her take off the backpack, then slung it into the bed of his truck.
Before they left, she looked back at her house. In the living room window, she saw her grandmother holding Olaf, who was clearly barking up a storm.
“Let’s go,” she said quickly. “Before my dog breaks through the window.”
They hurried into his truck, and a moment later they were zooming away from her house. A sense of freedom settled over her. She was going on an adventure. She loved adventures, but so rarely allowed herself to have them except while writing. Everyone in Lake Bittersweet thought of her as a “good girl”—teacher, granddaughter, volunteer, all-around nice person.
If they had any idea the sort of things she put in her books, they’d probably back away slowly, then run screaming.
Galen took the route toward town, since they’d have to go through Lake Bittersweet to reach the two-lane road that led into the mountains. The September morning sun filled the town with golden light. The storefronts were haloed with it, their windows glinting, as if even the buildings were enraptured by the new day.
“Do you need a coffee for the road?”
“I don’t drink coffee,” she said automatically. “But a tea would be nice,” she added quickly.
He swung the wheel just in time to park in front of the SweetBitter. Inside, a yawning Rick Gonzalez greeted them. “Look at you two. I didn’t even know you knew each other.”
“She’s a client,” Galen said, sounding self-conscious. “It’s a funeral.”
“Que querida meliatta?”
Rick had the most ridiculous habit of making up Spanish-sounding curses. He claimed it was a type of ironic performance art because he was pissed that his parents hadn’t taught him any Spanish, despite the fact that they were from Mexico.
“It’s a ceremonial ash-scattering,” Brenda corrected.
Rick gasped. “Not—”
“God no. Granny’s fine. She’s barely past seventy, I wish everyone would stop assuming she has one foot out the door.” Nothing got her more upset than being forced to think about her grandmother’s passing.
Galen planted his hands on the counter and scowled at Rick. “Take it back, bud.”
“Take…what back? All I said was ‘not’.” But under Galen’s fierce stare, he shrugged. “I take it back. Sorry, Brenda.” He shot Galen a cautious look. “Are we cool?”
“Get her some tea. Fill my Thermos. Then we’ll be cool.” He thrust a stainless steel Thermos across the counter.
“The usual?” Rick asked Brenda.
She nodded, and Rick went to grab an Earl Gray tea bag.
“You don’t have to scare people just because they upset me,” she whispered to Galen.
“You’re my client. I take my job seriously. No one’s going to talk sideways at you while I’m on guard.”
“I thought you worried more about bears than café owners.”
“I’m ready for anything at all times. Once I had to chase away a raven that got obsessed with one of my hikers.”
“I’m sorry, a raven?”
“They can be very emotional birds. I think her hair caught his attention. He wouldn’t leave her alone. He kept dive-bombing us.”
“What did you do?”
“I made her wear a hoodie and I rigged up a slingshot with some shiny rocks for the raven to chase after.”
Rick reappeared with her favorite foamy drink, a tea latte with oat milk. “Thanks, Rick.”
“I’d say be safe out there, but I know you will with this guy.” He jerked his head toward Galen. “He was the first one I came out to, way back in the day, because I knew I could count on him. We’ve been friends for a long time.”
