Shadow Heir

I was dumbfounded and couldn’t answer right away. “But you ... you’re wearing a tie.”

He glanced down and scowled at the paisley silk monstrosity around his neck. “Yeah, it’s a pain, but my job has a dress code.”

“Your ... your job?” I felt like I’d wandered into some alternate reality and had to seek out a chair of my own at the table, lest I faint out of sheer mental exhaustion.

“Yup,” he said with mock enthusiasm. “I’m a productive member of society.”

“You cut your hair,” I said, reduced to simply pointing out the obvious.

“Another requirement of the job.” He absentmindedly smoothed some of his hair back and then brightened. “But they let me wear my headdress.”

“Your headdress?”

He jumped up again and disappeared down the hall that led to the bedrooms. While he was gone, I glanced around, looking for any other signs that I had entered a parallel universe. Nope. Everything else was the same. Tim returned shortly, carrying a full, feathered Lakota headdress that reached nearly to the floor. He put it on and grinned at me triumphantly.

“See?”

I looked him over from head to toe, taking in the formal suit juxtaposed with feathers. “Where exactly do you work?”

“I sell car insurance,” he explained.

“And they let you wear all that to work?”

He sat down again and left the headdress on. “They encourage it, actually. They really support the idea of a diverse workplace and wanted to hire as many minorities as they could. And even though there’s a dress code, it’s really important to them that their minorities express their unique cultural heritage. Wearing this is a way to bring some Native American influence into the workplace.”

“But Tim ... you aren’t Native American.”

This, at least, was semi-familiar territory. Tim, having few employable skills, had spent most of his life marketing what he did have: coloring and features that looked Native American to those who didn’t know any better. He’d rotated through various tribes (usually opting for non-Southwest ones, so as not to get in trouble with the locals) and played the part to help him get laid and sell bad poetry.

“That’s never stopped me before,” he said, following my very thoughts.

“Yeah, but when it comes to the workplace ... I mean, if you’re getting some kind of benefit, you usually have to show documentation or something. And I know you don’t have that.”

He shrugged. “I seemed so authentic that they didn’t even bother doing a background check. There was another guy interviewing for the same position. I think he was full-blooded Apache, but he didn’t do anything to play that up. Just showed up in a suit. If he’d worn war paint, he might have gotten hired over me.”

I groaned. “Probably he was doing something crazy, like—oh, I don’t know—relying on professionalism and job skills. What on earth drove you to get a job anyway? I mean, I’m impressed—well, not with the fake Lakota act—but it’s not something I expected from you.”

“That makes two of us.” His earlier enthusiasm dimmed. “It was all Lara’s doing. She said if you weren’t around, then it was ‘immoral’ for me to keep living here rent-free.” When we’d been roommates, Tim had earned his keep by doing housework and cooking.

I felt a smile creep over my face. “You’re still with her?” Tim getting together with my former secretary had been both unexpected and delightful. It was on par with Rurik and Shaya’s seemingly mismatched relationship.

“Yup.” Tim sighed. “Oh, the things I do for love, Eug. Anyway, yeah, she said it wasn’t right to drain your bank account for the mortgage, so I got a job, and she stopped the auto-deductions or whatever. Now we cover it.”

“So she lives here too,” I mused. I wasn’t surprised that Lara had been able to alter my mortgage payment options. She’d always known more about my finances and business affairs than I had. “Where is she? I’d love to see her.”

He glanced at the clock. “Still at work. That Enrique guy has her working crazy hours, but at least she pulls a lot of them.” That too was welcome news. As my business had dried up, I’d worried about Lara and had introduced her to a private detective who needed clerical help. Apparently things had worked out. “But forget about us. Where have you been? Jesus, Eug. It’s been, what? Almost half a year? I didn’t think you were coming back.”

There was legitimate hurt in his voice, and I realized that I hadn’t spared much care for friends who might have wondered at my disappearance. Tim knew I was involved with the Otherworld, but he had no idea of the extent of my entanglement. He hadn’t even known I was pregnant. I’d taken off before it was obvious.

“It’s complicated,” I said. “And messy. All I can tell you is that I had some, uh, things to take care of, and it was better for all of us that I stayed away.”

“Without even a hint that you were okay?” Again, the hurt and accusation in his voice took me aback.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I ... I just didn’t think. I can honestly say it was safer for you not to know, but I should’ve sent some message ... or even left a note.”

“If the visitors we initially had were any indication, I can understand the ‘safe’ part,” he admitted.

“Visitors?” My earlier instincts may have been right after all.

He waved a dismissive hand, like it was no big deal. “Yeah, kind of a random assortment. I don’t know what kind of creatures they all were—Lara could probably tell you. Your old man was around a lot and got rid of them, and before long, they stopped coming. I guess they recognized a lost cause.”

I hadn’t realized Roland had done that for me, though it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. He was the kind of conscientious person who would think of things like that. I owed him. If it hadn’t been for him, Tim might not be so blasé about his “visitors.”

“So, hey, that’s taken care of. No harm done. Now. Let’s move on to more important things.” He stood up and took the headdress off. “What do you want for dinner? It’s been a while, but I still remember your favorites. We’ve even still got a stash of Milky Ways.”

I grinned. “I’ll take those, but I’m afraid I can’t stick around. I’ve got to get a few things and then head out.”

Tim had been about to open a cupboard and stopped. His face fell. “Can’t you even stay to see Lara? She’ll probably be back in, oh, an hour. Two at most.”

I glanced at the clock and felt my own disappointment. “I don’t think I can. I’m heading out of town again and still have to figure things out.” Aside from my mom wanting to see me tonight, Roland and I had a few logistics to discuss about my Otherworldly trip.

“Damn,” Tim said. “You sure do know how to toy with a guy’s emotions, Eug.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, flashing what I hoped was a sympathetic look. “I’ll try to be back soon. Honest.” I wondered how Tim would feel if he knew that when I did come back, I might have two babies in tow.

He nodded. “Okay. Can I at least help you get what you need?”

“Sure,” I told him. “I need to dig out my winter stuff—like, my real winter stuff.”

That got a raised eyebrow, and he asked no questions. We were able to locate what I wanted quickly, largely because—despite his many quirks—Tim ran an efficient household and had had everything neatly arranged in storage. Once that was set, it was time for good-bye. Just like all my other partings, I felt guilty over this one. At least I knew Tim didn’t need me, not like others did. Plus, I was actually able to say good-bye this time, instead of disappearing on him. Surely that had to count for something.

I left him shortly thereafter and headed back toward Roland and Mom’s house. Again, I felt that ache in my chest as I took in the gorgeous scenery of the foothills. I loved this area. It was why I’d shaped the Thorn Land in its image. It hardly seemed fair to be leaving here so soon, yet at the same time ... a thrill of excitement ran through me. Part of my heart might be here in Arizona, but the rest of it was tied up elsewhere, in a place I was burning to see as much as I had been to see this one.

Tomorrow I would return to the Otherworld.