The Necromancer

Five

The next morning, I decided to cook for my mom. Okay, not just for her. I'd missed the smell and taste of bacon. It was a Godsend.

I fried up a few slices, the familiar kssss sound oddly soothing. It had been too long since I'd cooked a good meal. I'd missed it. According to my mother, cooking was an art. Most everyone can do it, but the great ones thrive with a lil ol' ingredient called Love.

Ma wasn't originally from Kansas. Her parents had migrated from Oklahoma when she was a child. She'd grown out of most of her accent but every so often you could really hear that Okie twang. A twang most Kansans didn't have.

Her culinary skills, however, was as Southern as could be. The woman's cooking could give any man heart disease. She herself wasn't a small lady—sure, she was no oompa loompa, but she was pleasantly plump in all the right places.

I pulled the finished slices of bacon from the pan and dropped them onto a paper towel. Grabbing a mason jar from the cabinet, I dumped three-quarters of the grease into it to solidify.

I had just begun cracking an egg into the leftover bacon grease when a shuffling sounded down the stairs.

"Juliette, is that you?"

"Nope, it's the ghost of Christmas future."

"Ha. Ha. What are you—ooh, are those eggs?" She came flying in, her fluffy robe flapping behind her like a slicker. I expected the woman to whip out a revolver and challenge me to a duel. "Back off, girlfriend. These eggs are mine."

She snagged the spatula and took over. Miffed, I let her.

"So," she began as I plopped down at the table with a piece of bacon. "I noticed your truck is gone."

"Thana," I corrected, reflexively touching the healed gash on my head. As predicted, I had woken without a trace of there having ever been an injury. "I needed to get some work done on her so Beau offered to take a look at it for free."

Cynthia grinned. "That was awful nice of him. You know, that boy is sweet on you. Always has been. Why don't you give him a chance?"

"There are several reasons, Ma." My heart seized. "The whole situation is just complicated."

"Well he's not going to be available forever. Especially with that redhead that's been swarming around him like a vulture."

My throat tightened and a little chunk of bacon got caught in my trachea. I hacked and coughed for a full minute before I could finally breathe again.

"Pardon?"

"He'd serviced some redhead at the garage and ever since then she's come back to him for all her business. Brings him treats."

I wasn't very fond of the word "serviced" nor was I very happy about this chick bringing him baked goods. If he was going to be eating anyone's muffins, it was going to be mine.

"That's interesting," I said, voice low.

I was already making plans to check this girl out. I wasn't sure who she was, where she came from, or what exactly her relationship was to Beau, but I already didn't like her. And here I'd been, worried about Beau moving in on my mom. Meanwhile, some no-soul, ginger broad had been trying to move in on my man.

I so didn't think so.

Mom laughed as she carefully scraped the delicate eggs onto a plate and handed it to me. "Jealousy is not a good look on you, honey."