Since I don’t need my truck, we decide to walk.
“I thought Sadie was going to embrace her sprites,” I say.
“She was. She’s trying. Thing is, they’re troublemakers.”
“Sprites usually are.”
“And ... I’m coming over for dinner tonight.”
Oh. Interesting. Something’s been brewing there, between them. My mind goes to last night, how Nigel gathered Sadie’s groceries, the comforting hands on her shoulders. Still, the two of them make such an unusual couple that I’ve dismissed the idea. Clearly, I shouldn’t have.
“The steam from the food,” Nigel continues. “You know how they like the steam. Well, if food goes in my mouth, and there’s a sprite in the steam...” He trails off because I can fill in the rest.
Nigel used to swallow ghosts, was addicted to them, the way you might be to alcohol or h
