Page 25 of Someone Save My Midlife Tonight
“Oh my!” Tim said, walking over to Shitty Ritchie. He squatted down and shook his hand. “Excellent! Seven is also a prime number, can represent luck, and is notable for the Seven Wonders of the World, the seven colors of the rainbow and the seven days of the week.”
Shitty Ritchie blushed under Tim’s praise. The oxymoron of who he was when he got here and who he was now was difficult to reconcile. However, I’d take this Shitty Ritchie over the other one any time.
Charlie cleared his throat. “As lovely as this is,” he said, eyeing the skunks with amusement and Shitty Ritchie with some trepidation. “We should get some rest.” Charlie walked over to Gideon and me and lowered his voice. “We need to put a guard rotation on Shitty Ritchie. It would be unwise toaccept without question the new version we’re seeing at the moment. We also don’t want him getting away.”
Thankfully, the little nard didn’t hear Charlie. He was too busy trading seven trivia with Tim.
“I agree with having guards on Shitty Ritchie. Although, I don’t think the violent dummy is going anywhere fast,” I said quietly. “I’ll be up first with Tim. Should I question him about the Higher Power? Or Alana Catherine?”
“No,” Charlie said firmly. “There’s a fine chance he’ll go off again during that conversation. Wait until we’re all together tomorrow—heavily armed and preferably in an open field.”
“Good thinking,” I told Charlie. “I’ll handle this.” I smiled as I walked over to Tim and Shitty Ritchie. Potentially explosive news always went better with a pleasant expression—or that was what I was going with. However, it was all in the phrasing. “Shitty Ritchie, since you’re new to our… umm… friend group, I thought it might be nice for you to get to know everyone. Tonight.”
He squinted at me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mmmkay, great,” I replied to his favorite line while keeping my smile bright. “Tim and I are going to spend a few hours with you and get you tucked in.”
“Wonderful,” Tim said, catching on immediately. “We can discuss the number seven in a deeper and more meaningful way.”
Shitty Ritchie looked doubtful but nodded his agreement. Apparently trading essentials of the number seven was too tempting for him to turn down.
“And after you get to know Daisy and Tim, I’ll come on over and tell you a ball eatin’ bedtime story with Heather,” Candy Vargovolunteered.
“And if you’re still awake, Gabe, Prue, Abby and I will join you for a bit and chat about the weather,” Rafe told the little Immortal.
“I quite enjoy discussing the weather,” Shitty Ritchie said with a nod of approval. “Of course, I do realize that none of you trust Shitty Ritchie yet, but that’s fine. I am aware that blowing up your house upon my arrival might make it seem like I’m a terrible houseguest, but I shall prove you wrong! Shitty Ritchie is a WONDERUL houseguest. STUPENDOUS!”
“Remains to be seen,” Candy Vargo muttered as she meandered over to her trailer. “But I sure as fuck hope so.”
Everyone froze and no one said a word. Even Gram kept her trap shut. I crossed my fingers hard that Candy wouldn’t realize she’d just broken her own rules again. It was getting old watching her light herself on fire and violently smack her rear end. Thankfully, she missed her f-bomb.
Again, it was the little things that kept me sane.
“Shall we call it a night?” Charlie inquired. “Tomorrow is a new day and we’ll get to work at seven AM sharp.”
“Yes,” Gabe said. “Good night, all.”
Pleasant rounds of “sweet dreams” were exchanged. I kissed my husband and my baby. The next four hours or so would be challenging.
Or… maybe not.
One could always hope.
After an hour discussingthe merits of the number seven, the boys had moved on to the weather. It was getting difficult to keep my eyes open.
“Did you know that mild autumn weather means thatbigger spiders will invade your home?” Shitty Ritchie announced as we all sat on the wooden slatted stoop in front of McMansion number seven.
Warily, I glanced around for spiders. The coast was clear.
The stars hung lazy and low in the sky, and the creepy haze from the moon was gone. Glancing up, I felt a momentary peace. Nature’s beauty could be as calming as my baby’s smile. I knew it wouldn’t last long, but I took peace where I could get it. Shitty Ritchie’s trailer was pretty dang homey. But since the evening was warm and lovely, we’d opted to sit outside.
I was thrown that the McMansion was much nicer than the house—at least as far as the color scheme went. Instead of orange, gold and olive green it was a palatable celery green, peach and cream. I’d have a word with Candy Vargo about that tomorrow.
“Oh yes!” Tim exclaimed, pulling his notebook from his pocket. “I did know that about the arachnid species. And I’d like to add that one can tell the temperature by counting cricket chirps.”
“You don’t say,” Shitty Ritchie replied, clearly impressed with Tim’s knowledge. “Here’s one that might surprise you… did you know that a hurricane in Florida resulted in nine hundred pythons escaping their cages?”
“No! That’s dreadful,” Tim said, shocked as he scribbled the information down. “I must tell Jennifer. She has plans to buy a vacation home in Florida with some of her settlement money from her fourth divorce!”
