Page 3 of Dream House
Her brow arches so severely, I think of arrowheads. “I don’t know whether to scold you for likening my gifts to those of a bug-bitten teenager or congratulate you for finally taking advantage of them.”
I try not to look too amused. I need Pen in my life. She makes my everyday seem much less maudlin. “Consider me scolded. Now get to the congratulating part.”
With a sigh she proceeds to play hard to get. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“You know I do,” I say indulgently.
Her smile is satisfied. I also notice a glint of excitement in her eyes. “I had a dream last night.”
I suck in a breath. Okay, so not all of Pen’s dreams are premonitory. She once dreamed that the floor of the apartment above mine caved in, and she wouldn’t let Tyler, Maisy, and me sleep there for a whole week. The only thing that caved in was Tyler’s birthday cake. So more a baking fail than life-threatening catastrophe.
But other dreams?
The morning after Tyler’s accident—before Mom called to tell me what had happened—Pen kept blowing up my silenced phone until it vibrated off the nightstand and woke me.His bike is in the ditch,she kept saying.He’s not answering his phone.
I’d tried to tell her that Tyler was safe in his apartment, sleeping—just like I had been. And then my phone beeped with another call, and as soon as I saw Mom’s name, I knew.
So, yeah, I pay attention when Pen tells me about her dreams.
“Let’s hear it.”
She bites her bottom lip, the excitement glowing brighter in her eyes. “I dreamed that I was hanging my prism collection above my bed…” She pauses for dramatic effect and points to the ceiling. “In the third floor attic.”
I blink. “Wait.” I double blink.“Thisthird floor attic?”
Her witchy snark is irrepressible. “Does the Pen Pen have a third floor attic?”
ThePen Penis the affectionate name we have given to Pen’s crappy loft apartment. It does not have a third floor attic. It does have a way of attracting crazy.
Or maybe that’s just Pen.
The Pen Pen is situated downtown on Lee Street right next to The Hideaway and Spirits Liquor Store. It’s safe to say Pen is never short on visitors.
I side-eye her. “What are you saying?”
She says nothing but bats her false lashes at me.
My heartbeat speeds up. “Are you saying you want to move in here with me?” Suddenly, the thought of taking on Nanna’s rambling, run down house seems more doable.
Pen puts on a pout. “Were you planning on living in this big ole house all by yourself?”
My giggle is spontaneous. “I wasn’t planning on living here at all.”
Pen stares at me, letting the words hang there, and I hear what she must hear. They just don’t ring true.
“Or if I was, of course, it wouldn’t be all by myself.”
Her nod is quick. “Of course not. Tyler and Maisy—”
“But if you wanted to join us,” I interject, “there’s more than enough room.”
She looks at me like I’ve said something absurd. “More than enough room? Honey, you could house a travelling circusanda small army.”
Well, not really. But the house does have six bedrooms, not counting the third floor attic. All told, it’s more than four thousand square feet of living space. Jesus, the utilities alone will be as much as I pay in rent now.
My second thoughts rebound. “Do you have any idea what it costs to cool this place in the summer?” I shake my head. “This is still too much house for four people.”
“So rent out some of the rooms,” Pen says with unnerving sincerity.
