Olympus Drive Book 5: Situation Normal

Chapter 8

Detective Stamos

I have been up since seven am yesterday. I just spent the last eight hours at the station listening to Dara lawyer her pain in the ass brother out of something he clearly did, and to top it all off I also lost Rhea which probably means he's supervising some of the other kids committing some other major crime. And, now I'm up at the big house, at the end of Olympus Drive, about to ruin Basil's sobriety, more than likely.

I don't bother to knock. Let's face it, we're well past knocking.

"Go, sit down on the sofa or something," I say, pushing Thyme in before he gets distracted and wanders off.

"But I'm hungry—can I have my phone?" Thyme asks, hopefully.

"No," I growl. I don't even have it.

"Luna has it," Dara says, walking in as well.

Basil and Gerard are coming down the stairs, arms full of candles. They don't notice us at first, and their conversation goes as follows:

"Okay, so if we put Vanilla Bean by the front door then August Night in the living room—,"

"Then Summer Mist by the kitchen yes—,"

"I'm thinking we move from sweet spicy as we move through the house—,"

"Yes, I agree, but Helen hates fir tree—,"

"Correct so that one goes by the bedroom—,"

"But that would be moving spicy to sweet—,"

"The sweet to spicy is downstairs, we can do the opposite upstairs—,"

"Oh, yes, you're right---,"

"But that might make it too heavy of scents at once---,"

"Wait, where's the Summer Breeze? I like that one—,"

"Yeah but so does Helen so we put that one in the living room and then we put the Bermont by the bedroom—,"

"Are we really repelling her with candles?"

"If it works it works— now we want to go sweet—to tropical—to spicy---ending with cedar in the attic right--?"

"Right, does your dad like cedar?"

"Ger, this isn't about him. Now who's got Clean Linen? That goes in the laundry room—,"

"You said to put that in the garage, for irony."

"Well what do you think?"

"Oh, I think garage but it was your idea—,"

"Is this seriously what you do with your time?" Dara asks, laughing, interrupting them.

"This is how you occupy yourselves? You organize candles?" Thyme is laughing too.

"Your father and I work hard to have an inviting home for you kids," Gerard says, innocently, arms full of candles.

"Yes, candles don't organize themselves. We are working to create a certain mood and also moderately annoy your mother—," Basil says.

"Yes, that's there as well."

"Something you also enjoy. I just do it through candle placement---WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"I wondered how long that would take," I mutter, while Basil starts hyperventilating.

"Hi, dad," Thyme says, flatly.

"Son---son, I love you so much—what the fuck are you doing on this continent?" Basil asks, struggling to breath while Gerard rescues candles from his arms.