Black Wings Read online

  Tommy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. She shouldn’t take such glee in how much older he looked with the start of the bald spot, but she did.

  “Look.” He hesitated. “Let’s put things in perspective. My mom is going to die. Soon.”

  Marian contemplated her toast quietly, before saying gently but without much sympathy, “If you want people to say nice things about you when you’re dead, you shouldn’t be an asshole when you’re alive.”

  “Exactly. I’m trying hard not to be an asshole. It’s not about my mom, Mare. It’s about me and you being okay,” Tommy said. “I want to be okay with Briella.”

  Marian didn’t have an answer for that, but she fortunately didn’t need one, because Dean’s booming voice echoed through the house.

  “Baby! I’m hoooome! And I see we have company.” Dean came into the kitchen with a broad grin that didn’t falter even when he saw who sat at the kitchen table. “Yep. I thought I smelled bullshit all the way out at the street. You parked in my spot, douche.”

  Tommy rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

  Dean gave Marian a kiss, long and lingering and deliberate, she thought, but allowed it to go on as long as he wanted. “Hey, baby. You look scrumptious.”

  “Gross,” Tommy said.

  Marian looked over Dean’s shoulder. “You can go home any time.”

  Tommy didn’t get up from the table. He looked uncomfortable, but his discomfort didn’t seem to be about Dean. He scratched his fingers through his hair again. “Look. About the kid.…”

  “I’m not okay with you taking her to your parents again,” Marian cut in. “I know your mom’s sick and everything, but—”

  “Yeah, about that. It’s about that,” he said and stopped himself again without finishing.

  “Coffee?” Dean asked.

  “I’ll make you fresh.” Marian kissed him again and started toward the cupboard. She put in fresh grounds and water, expecting that Tommy would have said what he had to by the time she was done. He still hadn’t, and, irritated, she gestured at him. “You know, for the guy who used to run his mouth nonstop, you sure ended up without a lot to say. What is it?”

  “That bird. The black one, the raven.”

  Marian’s insides twisted. “Onyx?”

  “Yeah. He was at my parents’ house again the other night.”

  Dean frowned. “How can you be sure it was the same one?”

  “Because when I called it by name, it said ‘Briella’.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The story Tommy told was brief but took a long time to get out of him, because he kept stopping to shake his head, as though he couldn’t believe his own words. When he got to the part where he talked about the bird tapping on the house windows, whichever one it could see his mother through, he went silent and shuddered, over and over.

  “Did you let it in the house?” It was the only thing Marian could think of to ask.

  “Of course I didn’t let it in the fucking house,” Tommy retorted. “God only knows what it was intending to do!”

  Dean laughed, and if Tommy’s glare bothered him, he didn’t show it. “It was probably intending to get something to eat. You fed it the last time, right?”

  “Yeah,” Tommy answered reluctantly.

  “Ravens are smart, and they’ll remember where they got food before.” Dean caught Marian’s glance and shrugged. “I listen to the kid when she talks about it.”

  “If it was just begging for food, why was it there at night? Tapping the windows? Fucking singing?” Tommy got up and went to the fridge to help himself to the jug of orange juice. “Ugh. Pulp.”

  “Forgive me, the next time I shop I’ll remember to buy the kind of orange juice you like.” Marian refilled Dean’s mug with coffee, stopping to look down at him when he touched her wrist. The smile he gave her made everything seem okay.

  We’ll all be just fine, she thought, and the taste of something sour coated her tongue and closed her throat.

  Tommy took the juice to the table. Marian gave him a glass, and he filled it, gulping half the contents before swiping a hand over his mouth and setting the glass back on the table with a thump. He looked up at both of them.

  “I just thought you should know about it, that’s all. I mean…it said her name.”

  His tone prickled the hairs on the back of Marian’s neck. “You come in here, talking about how you want things to be okay, but you still think there’s something wrong with her. You couldn’t stand the idea of her going to that ‘weirdo’ school, but you want to lock her up in some psych ward, is that it? It will never happen, Tommy, not over my dead body!”

  “Babe. He’s not saying that.” Dean shook his head.

  Marian whirled on him. “Don’t you dare hush me.”

  “I wasn’t hushing you. Just saying. I’m sure he only wants the best for her. That’s all. He’s worried.”

  “Do you think he has reason to be?” she retorted. “Do you think he’s got reason to think we aren’t going to keep Briella safe and take care of her?”

  “I don’t think that.” Tommy got up from the table. “But it’s that bird, okay? I think you need to be careful with it. Don’t let it get too close to her. It’s not healthy.”

  Marian crossed her arms over her chest. She wouldn’t agree with Tommy if he said the Pope was Catholic. “There’s nothing wrong with Briella having a pet.”

  “That thing’s not a pet, and you know it. If it comes around my house again, I’ll shoot it,” Tommy said.

  “Big man,” Marian replied.

  After that, Tommy got the hint he might not be totally welcome there, and he left. Dean followed him out to his car so he could move his into his normal spot. Marian watched them both from the front window, standing behind the curtains so they couldn’t see her.

  “What were you talking about?” she asked when Dean came back in the house.

  He looked surprised. “He was apologizing for coming over so early and taking my spot. I assume he meant the parking spot.”

  “That’s not funny,” she snapped.

  “I’m sorry. He was just apologizing, baby. That’s all.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Tommy.”

  “Maybe he’s changed a little, Marian. People do.”

  She frowned. “So what, you’re taking his side?”

  “I’m not taking any sides,” Dean said. “Wow. What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing’s going on with me.”

  Truth was, Marian did feel unsettled. Irritable. She didn’t usually blame PMS for bad moods, but that seemed a likely cause now. Forcing the crankiness aside, she hugged him.

  “Sorry,” Marian said. “I didn’t get a good night’s sleep.”

  Dean yawned. “Come back to bed with me for a little while.”

  She looked at the clock. “I’m supposed to go to my dad’s for lunch.”

  “Come back to bed with me,” Dean said with a grin.

  * * *

  Her father seemed surprised to see her when he answered the door, but let her in with a smile and a hug. He’d forgotten she was supposed to come for lunch, Marian realized, but didn’t point it out to him. She didn’t want to embarrass him. Maybe she didn’t want to have to face it, either, the fact that he was slowly but clearly declining. She hadn’t spoken to her brother in a few months, but she would have to call him, Marian thought. She would have to tell him to visit from California, soon. They would have to talk about what to do about their father.

  But not right now. Now, she made them both macaroni and cheese, with tuna fish sandwiches on white bread, pickle spears and chips on the side. It was a comfort meal from her childhood, her mother’s specialty, and usually Marian loved it. Today it left her stomach rumbling and unsettled.

  Dad fell asleep in his recliner after lunch, the