After the scattering of Gary’s/Pops/Gar’Dian’s ashes, Jet was much more settled. While he hadn’t quite come to terms with how he felt about Gary, hearing others say their farewells had given Jet perspective on the man he’d never thought to ponder. He even managed to throw the long life milk away, feeling as though a mental block had been removed. He could think things more clearly and even applied for two of the jobs that were still open. To his astonishment he got two interviews and then to his even greater astonishment, he was offered one. But Bethany wasn’t surprised. She told him she always knew he was more than capable. Jet guessed it was okay that he didn’t think he could do it because Bethany did and she was stubborn enough for the both of them.

  Bethany wiped the tables down as Rob shut the door. She kept glancing at the clock, biting her bottom lip as she cleaned, scooping plates into her hands, juggling them to the counter, nearly dropping the stack. Rob saved her and the pretty plates from becoming mosaic tile material.

  “Thanks Rob.” She shook her head. “Too much too fast.”

  “What’s the rush, princess?” Bastian asked as he scrubbed at his hot plate. “You’ve been on edge all day.”

  “It was Jet’s first day at his new job. He was very nervous.”

  “I think you’re the one who’s nervous.” Rafael remarked with sage accuracy.

  “Well…maybe.” Bethany sighed. “Yeah…”

  “Remind me, which job did he get? The Glenwilde Gazette or the part time government job?”

  “Part time government job.” Bethany pushed chairs back into place around tables. “He was sure he’d bombed on the interview but he’s not great at reading emotion.” As she checked under the chairs at the bay window, she spied a set of car keys and scraped them into her hand.

  “Bethany, I’ve got this.” Aunt Jo insisted.

  “He won’t be home for another hour at least…” Bethany glanced at the clock. “And then he might want a shower to wash off the day…”

  “Bastian…” Jo said in a warning tone as the saucy werewolf opened his mouth. His lips clamped shut and he nodded.

  “I thought married life would tone down the werewolf’s flirtatious inclinations,” Faelan shook his head in despair, “not make them more intolerable.”

  “How can something become more intolerable?” Bastian mocked the elf. “Once it’s intolerable, that’s as bad as it gets.”

  “You are as bad as it gets…”

  There came a knock on the door, interrupting the bickering that was an almost daily occurrence between werewolf and elf. Mrs Braam, an elderly neighbour, peered through the window. Rob opened the door and she looked around apologetically.

  “I’m sorry but I think I left my keys…”

  “Just found them.” Bethany held them out. “Perfect timing.”

  Dorothea Braam was one of the original cul de sac inhabitants and lived next door to House of Figs on the left. She and her husband had bought a house back when Glenwilde was a two day drive from the city and not a solid single day on a train. They’d raised their family there, seen their children grow up and leave and talked about their grandchildren and great grandchildren with typical grandparent pride.

  “Thank you. One of these days I’ll leave poor Koen behind as well as my keys.”

  “Query, Mrs Braam,” Rob stepped towards her, “may I escort you to your door?”

  “Oh…you have such a quaint way of asking questions.” She took his arm. “I left Koen by the front door. I got him to leave the house for a coffee. I didn’t think I’d get him to come out again.”

  Koen was suffering from pancreatic cancer and because of his age, the doctors weren’t hopeful and, despite treatment, hadn’t given him good odds.

  Bethany smiled as Rob kindly walked Mrs Braam back to her house.

  “He’s such a gentleman,” Jo chuckled, “and I’m relieved his ‘queries’ go mostly unqueried.”

  Bethany giggled. “I suppose, in this day and age, we’re getting used to people’s quirks and idiosyncrasies and barely bat an eyelid.”

  “Not Mrs Braam, though.” Jo sighed as she held out her hands for the guys to put their aprons into. “She’s old school. Even the chemotherapy Koen is getting is probably just shy of witchcraft for her generation. One, two, three…Eustace, apron!”

  He untied it as he came out from behind the counter. “Um, I hate to be a pain…but I slopped coffee on my jeans.”

  “What he means is, I slopped coffee on his jeans because I wasn’t fast enough to get out of his way.” Rafael grumbled.

  “I was trying to spare your pride.” Eustace retorted.

  “Leave them by the door into your world and I’ll have a go at cleaning them,” Jo promised, “and if I can’t get the stain out, I’ll buy you a new pair.” Before Eustace could protest Jo looked around at them all. “In fact, all your clothes need a good going over. Leave them by your doors.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Bastian saluted jauntily and headed out the back.

  “Bethany,” she jumped at the sound of her name and turned to her aunt, “go! Jet might need a friendly face when he comes home. And don’t forget to ask him about Christmas.”

  “Okay,” Bethany whipped off her apron, placing it in her aunt’s outstretched hand and hurried upstairs, knocking on the door before barging in now that she shared the space with Adela, “are you decent?”

  Adela opened the door, fully dressed and slightly puzzled. “Is this a question of morality or nudity?” Bethany laughed, changing her shoes and dabbing some gloss onto her lips. “Bethany, is my presence here an inconvenience?”

  Bethany straightened from the mirror, turning to look at the fair haired girl.

  “An inconvenience?”

  “You have never shared a bedroom with anyone before because you were an only child.”

  Bethany put her hands on her hips and eyed Adela. “Neither have you.”

  “Yes, but it was deemed unsafe for me to live in Atannica,” Adela rubbed her arms, frowning, “I…are you allowing me to stay here under sufferance?”

  Bethany leaned down to look Adela in the eyes. “Is it awkward at times? Yes. Do I want you to leave? No.” She checked her appearance in the mirror on the back of the door. “Besides, I’m spending a lot of time at Jet’s lately.”

  “You always return at night and sleep in your own bed.” Before Bethany could say anything to Adela’s remark the young, once vampire, girl tilted her head. “Would it not be more convenient, after engaging in intercourse, to remain at his house?” Her words registered a split second after she said them and Bethany couldn’t muster a reply although her face reddened brightly. Adela’s eyes widened. “Did I say something inappropriate?”

  “Just a bit!” Bethany stammered. “I…we…we don’t…” Adela stared at her, studying her reaction with an almost clinical air. Bethany had to pause, to remind herself that Adela wasn’t a typical eleven year old girl. “Jet and I are not doing that…yet…”

  Adela blinked, frowning. “I…I apologise for assuming…” She sat on her single bed, her fingers wringing themselves together.

  Bethany pressed her lips together and sat on the end of her bed, crossing her legs. “For all of your hundreds of years of existence, I suppose you’ve never seen a relationship like mine and Jet’s…” She remembered Adela’s bedroom in the palace of Atannica, the deformed teddies, the dolls in their dollhouse in depraved poses…it had all been a part of her dark, five hundred year old childhood and though Bethany had done what she could to remove the corruption from Adela’s mind, restoring her innocence, she was not na?ve and still retained the memories of her life.

  “Mother didn’t have relationships. She had sycophants and willing sacrifices.” Adela’s brow furrowed. “And Aurelius saw humans the same as Bastian sees a piece of meat, to be devoured.” She swallowed and looked up at Bethany, regret in her eyes. “If I made you uncomfortable…”

  “It’s alright,” Bethany insisted instinctively, “I just forget sometimes what you’ve been through.” She breathed in deeply. “Aunt Jo talked to me about this side of things so I guess, in lieu of my own wisdom, I’ll default to hers.” She paused, trying to remember how her aunt had phrased it. “Sex, intercourse, making love, whatever you call it, is a responsibility. No matter how it’s dressed up or down, it’s a vulnerable state between two people. It’s a commitment and a responsibility and should never be entered into without the full and unmanipulated consent of both parties.” She looked at her hands and sighed. “And as one who made a mistake in judgement regarding this, I can honestly say you can’t undo that moment…”

  “You have?” Bethany nodded, feeling ashamed. “It was a mistake?”

  “I didn’t go into it for the right reasons and I think now, if only I’d waited…” She rubbed her arms, swallowing.

  They were both quiet for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

  “Did you call it ‘making love’?”

  “It’s a romantic term for it.”

  Adela lifted her chin, her eyes flickering. “I like it. It is the act of making the mutual affection between two people into a physical being.” She looked at Bethany firmly. “I think it wise to wait.”

  Bethany smiled and stood up. “Me too. So…I’ll be home later tonight.”

  She left the room they shared, down the stairs and out of the café. She was so anxious she nearly ran to his house but was restrained enough to keep it to a fast walk, with little skips now and then when she couldn’t help it. Jet’s working day started at eight and ended at four but then he had to walk home so he wasn’t there. Bethany boiled the kettle and looked at his schedule of what meal he was to prepare that night. She couldn’t comprehend being so organised but Jet found cooking for himself overwhelming enough without adding spontaneity into it. She laid out all the ingredients and checked to make sure the meat was defrosted when she heard the front door open.

  “Jet?” She peered around the corner to see him walk in dejectedly. “You okay?”

  “My brain hurts…” He said wearily. “I kept looking at my shoulder to see if it was leaking out of my ear.”

  “Oh Jet,” Bethany said sadly, “it’s just the first day. You’ve got another day working tomorrow then you’ve got Wednesday off. That’s the beauty of part time!”

  Jet shrugged, looking like a smart version of himself. He’d been given a work uniform polo but was allowed to wear it over his usual long sleeve tee and his baggy pants had been exchanged for more tailored jeans. Bethany had convinced him that his poor, beaten up runners were not the best first impression makers so he was in black shoes which he tugged off.

  “I need a shower…”

  He wandered into the bathroom and shut the door. Bethany did what she could around the house, filling in time and staying clear of the bathroom. She cleaned a little but in truth, there was only so much that could be done. The house was as old as the Braam’s and while things had been replaced, like carpets, furniture and the walls had been repainted after wallpaper was removed, that had all been Jet’s Nan’s doing. She had been gone for six or seven years now and Gary had never bothered looking after the house. To him, it was a place to be while he waited for his plan to save En’Daren to be outworked.

  Bethany knew the gutters were narrow and clogged easily with fallen leaves, the water backing up and damaging the walls at the rear of the house. The carpet was well worn from the front door to the kitchen and in the corners, behind the furniture, where it was still plush, served as a reminder to what it used to be like.

  Everything was at least ten years old, if not older in the house apart from Jet’s computers and game consoles. When Bethany had helped him load shopping into the pantry for the first time, she’d found a can of creamed corn tucked into a forgotten corner that was nearly as old as she was.

  When Jet emerged from the bathroom, he still looked exhausted but the shower had helped remove something of the day.

  “I won’t stay late.” Bethany reassured him. “I just want to make sure you had something decent to eat…and a friendly face to come home to.”

  Jet smiled at her and her heart did a little skip. She loved it when he smiled at her.

  “Thanks Bethany,” he sighed, “I felt so stupid. I mean, I thought when they hired me that I must have had what they needed to be able to do the job…but now I wonder if they’re regretting their decision.” He leaned on the counter, his hair still damp. Bethany used her fingers to scrape it from his forehead.

  “Jet, this is your first ever job, apart from those two days at that burger place in the city…”

  “I’m surprised I lasted that long.” He shuddered. “So much noise, tight spaces…so many people…”

  “This job is different.” She insisted. “They didn’t hire you under false pretences. You didn’t lie on your resume and they warned you in the second interview that it can be tough to do but to just talk to them about it. They don’t want to lose you.”

  Jet nodded then sighed. “It’s not like I can quit. I’m in charge of the bills now and the microwave died this morning…”

  “Oh no,” she looked at the black box which normally showed the time but was as dark as Rafael’s morning pick me up coffee, “that’s a pain. And given how old everything is in the house, I think it’s more than out of warranty.” She saw his looked of despair and tried to lighten her tone. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll sort something. How about I cook dinner and you play a game?”

  “I haven’t got the energy for any game.” Jet huffed. “Besides, I’d rather see your face than a thousand avatars.”

  “Awwwww.” Bethany blushed. “That’s a good line.” She began to cut an onion up then scrunched her nose. “Oh, I almost forgot, Aunt Jo would like to know what you’re doing for Christmas.”

  “Well, seeing as my mum isn’t talking to me now because of the whole house issue…” Jet shrugged.

  “You’re going to come and spend it with us, yeah?” Bethany leaned forward. “You can bring a console and headphones if you need some space but we’d love to have you.”

  Jet’s hazel eyes gleamed with a spark of pleasure. “We…or you?”

  Bethany giggled and kissed him lightly. “We…but mostly me.”

  They cooked dinner and ate then Bethany left Jet to get an early night’s sleep. It wasn’t just the new job that was exhausting him. For so long he’d stayed up until past midnight and slept in late. The change in routine was hard for him.

  Bethany knew he’d get there. She wished he had more faith in his abilities.

  When she returned to House of Figs, Abram had arrived from Atannica and was having dinner with Jo and Adela. Bethany declined their offer to join them, going to the lounge room and found Rob and Annie sitting on the chairs.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all, Bethany St James.” Rob smiled at her and she sank onto the lounge. “You are home much earlier than normal.”

  “Query, did you and Jet have an argument?” Annie asked, her dark hair in a pixie cut style that Bethany used to have, the robot’s appearance having been based on her brief visit to Infinitus.

  “He’s exhausted. Learning new things isn’t easy.”

  “That is something I can attest to.” Rob admitted. “Query, do you think Jet will keep working?”

  “He’s aware that he needs some form of work.” Bethany leaned forward. “Everything in that house is old and starting to break down. The gutters are causing water damage to the back of the house, his microwave died this morning. The lawn needs mowing, the hedge is growing out of control…”

  “Query, would you like me to perform some maintenance on the house?”

  Bethany looked at Rob. “You’re very sweet but we can’t rely on you for all the little things…”

  Rob blinked, his eyes moving at the speed of a camera shutter and she still imagined she could hear the sound to match. “It is not an inconvenience to me for I do not sleep.”

  “Neither do I.” Annie added.

  “We would be willing to assist Jet.”

  “I think there’s only so much you could do,” Bethany admitted, feeling waves of inadequacy roll over her, “it really needs a lot of work. Gary didn’t bother because he never intended to stay there for long. It’s like when he lost House of Figs because he was bankrupt as he spent all his money building the Observatory and not on his bills or loan…the day to day grind wasn’t important to him.” She leaned back and huffed. “But now Jet has to live in that house and make it work…I don’t know, maybe he would be better off selling it and buying somewhere smaller and newer. Let someone else renovate it.”

  “Query, would renovating the house rejuvenate it?”

  Bethany rolled her head to the side and looked at Rob. “Yeah, why?”

  Rob blinked. “I am currently accessing online renovation guides and house plans…”

  Annie went to the office and brought a roll of butcher’s paper out, along with a pencil case.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Anticipating.” Annie replied.

  Annie’s programming was different to Rob’s. She was intuitive and used fancy equations to predict probabilities, anticipating likely outcomes. Rob had the ability to a much smaller degree, having been built many years before Annie and his programming, despite Infinitus trying to change Bethany’s beloved Rob, remained true to what it had been.

  Rob leaned over the coffee table and, without a ruler or any kind of guide, began to sketch with perfectly straight lines.

  “This is the current shape of Jet’s house,” he explained as he worked quickly, swapping blunt pencils for sharpened ones, Annie keeping him well supplied with drawing tools, “with an approximation of contents according to what I have seen.”

  Because it was Rob and because he recorded everything, he was able to produce a sketch of the house, complete with lounge chairs, bedroom furniture, bath, toilet and dining table.

  “That’s incredible…” Bethany gasped. “You’ve even got measurements written down!”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “My stride and my height are constant, giving me a steadfast measurement to use as a guide.” He explained.

  “It looks like a proper architect blueprint done on cheap butcher’s paper!” Bethany frowned. “What’s that?”

  “The garden shed which is to the left of the main house.” Rob tilted his head, no doubt studying images and plans in his mind that Bethany couldn’t see. “Because of the restrictions regarding buildings, it is worth having in the plans because it is already established.”

  “The Glenwilde council can’t object if it’s already there.” Bethany sighed. “But it’s still just a garden shed…not even properly attached to an old house…” She stood up. “I think Jet’s exhaustion is contagious. I’m going to go to bed.”

  Bethany was so tired from worrying about Jet all day that she barely heard Adela sneak in and go to bed. She slept heavily and slapped the snooze button on her phone twice. But when Adela rose to ready herself for school, Bethany knew she couldn’t put off getting up any longer. She had a quick shower, keeping her ringlets dry, making a mental note that she really ought to wash her hair sometime soon. She tied them into two low ponytails, feeling them bounce on her shoulders as she skipped downstairs, tying her apron around her tartan skirt and black cap sleeve shirt with the red trim.

  Rather than be at their stations, all the guys were huddled around the only large table in House of Figs. Whenever they had a booking for a larger than four party, they manoeuvred the big table inside. It was a deeply grooved, heavy wood monstrosity that sat on equally heavy legs. This morning it was covered in sheets of paper.

  “House of Figs featured in the Gazette?” Bethany asked, fiddling with her apron tie.

  “Bethany, you’ve got to have a look at this.” Eustace urged. “Check out what Rob did!”

  She squeezed in between Eustace and Rafael and stared in astonishment at the half dozen blueprints on butcher’s paper. Each of them was a variation of the one next to it, rooms shifted around, verandas added to the back or the side but all retained the original building.

  “Rob,” Bethany breathed as she picked the closest one up, “did you do all these?”

  “He did.” Annie answered. “Rob also made several other designs but these are his favourites.”

  “Annie helped me to narrow my preferences.” Rob insisted.

  “They’re incredible!” Bethany studied hers. “What did you do to the garden shed?”

  “To gain greater accuracy of the plans, I walked the footpath around Jet’s house and discovered that the garden shed was once the detached laundry and toilet before it was abandoned and moved inside the house.”

  “He’s used the plumbing to create a second bathroom,” Eustace pointed, tracing the lines of the drawing, “and that garden shed now has a bay window on the front, turning it into a master bedroom with ensuite, attached to the house with a narrow corridor that he says is within council spec, whatever that means.”

  “On this one he extended the veranda on the front of the house, giving it a much more polished fa?ade,” Bastian held the page, “and on this he put one on the back but, because it’s made from shade cloth, it skates under council radar.”

  “That’s extraordinary!” Bethany looked at Rob. “I thought you said the robots of Infinitus weren’t creative.”

  “We are not.” She half brandished the drawing in her hand. “That is a compilation of the original structure along with three other house designs.” Rob argued. “They all begin with the original structure and then I simply applied elements where appropriate and to varying degrees. I also made sure to keep within Glenwilde’s council guidelines about additions to houses.”

  Bethany stared. “And you don’t think that’s creative?”

  “Don’t bother,” Rafael said grimly, holding onto his morning coffee, “we’ve all tried and failed to convince him of his creativity.”

  Bethany made a weird noise, still stunned by the drawings.

  “Boys,” Jo clapped her hands, “we’re five minutes from opening. Time to man our stations.”

  They hurried to do so, a few early bird customers already hovering at the window, desperate for their morning fix. Bethany helped her aunt collect the pages.

  “Why can’t he see that this is creative?” She asked in a strong whisper.

  “He’s building upon the work of others,” Jo glanced over her shoulder and sighed, “he believes that true creativity is to create something from nothing.”

  “But no human can do that.” Bethany argued. “An idea, a thought…everything is triggered by something. These…any of these houses would look fantastic!”

  “Unfortunately, they’ll probably look pretty on paper for a long time before they could ever be realised.” Jo rolled the pages carefully. “All of these plans would cost thousands to even begin, let alone finish.” Bethany’s heart sank a little, having been caught up in a dream. “Let’s not forget that he doesn’t have to start from scratch. He has a house with no mortgage. That’s more than a lot of people ever have.”

  “This is true.” Bethany shook off the melancholia. “Right. Time for breakfast.”

  Jet stumbled through a second day at his new job, feeling slightly less overwhelmed at all the newness yet more intimidated by the amount he would have to learn. He had his own workstation and, now that his login was official, he had a dozen passwords to remember, a work phone, computer and office keys. His supervisor set him up with their training program which meant video after video, going through the endless red tape of government contracts.

  He had never considered himself an active person, being uncoordinated self conscious but he happily walked his entire lunch break, the fresh air and open sky blowing away some of the clutter in his head. Normally he’d hide on his computer or play a game to try to find some peace and separation but after hours staring at a screen with people speaking in somewhat monotone voices, he needed something different and natural.

  His retention was tested with a series of light quizzes and he scored fairly well on them. His supervisor praised his progress at the end of the day and told him to stay away from anything work related on his day off.

  “We’ll see you on Thursday.” He said, nodding at Jet.

  Jet walked home, taking the shortest route to the cul de sac. He had no doubt that it would become second nature after a few weeks. When he reached Gary’s house, he paused at the gate and looked at the house, feeling discouraged. It had a slight veranda at the front which he could see was bowing where a beam was rotting. The garden shed at the side looked like it was part of the house, the rooves of both shed and house touching, creating a dark, narrow alley between them. The lawn was growing out of control and the garden desperately needed weeding, two things Jet had no interest in.

  He wished there were more pavers, more concrete and a little less nature. He did like the hedge that had all but engulfed the fence that ran around the property. Its somewhat wild growth meant the house was largely obscured, hiding its mildly dilapidated state from passersby…well, except for the blue tiles on the roof. They were able to be seen from just about anywhere and were rather distinctive.

  He sighed, not wanting to go inside. It felt strange being in the house without Pops. Even when Jet had been in his room, he’d known that Gary was somewhere in the house.

  Now, being alone in it, felt wrong and lonely.

  “Hey Jet!”

  His heart, which had been sinking, gave a jump at the sound of her voice and he turned towards Bethany who walked briskly towards him, holding a bundle of papers.

  “Hey.” He smiled, wondering what he ought to do next. He was a little unsure how to act, now that he was an official boyfriend. Knowing what to do when was something he had scarce experience with. Bethany took his hand and went on her tip toes to kiss him lightly, saving him from trying to work it out with clumsy results. “Good timing.”

  “Faelan saw you coming up the road.” She winked. “Elf eyes.” With her by his side, Jet opened the gate and they headed into the house. “How was day two?”

  “Not as bad,” he saw her triumphant gleam, “it wasn’t brilliant!”

  “Day off tomorrow,” she said merrily, “what do you want to do?”

  “I probably need to go shopping, I need to get the lawn under control…I need a microwave…” Jet paused. “Where do you buy a microwave in Glenwilde?”

  “We’ll order one online. There’s a transport company that does bi weekly trips from the city, bringing things that normal postal options can’t handle.” She said with greatly authority.

  “And what are those?” He pointed to the papers on the counter as he switched the kettle on. Bethany liked to drink tea and Jet liked to drink tea with her.

  “Oh, these are ‘what ifs’.” He frowned and watched as she unrolled the pages which looked like butcher’s paper, covered in drawings. “It turns out Rob is a bit of a budding architect, and he came up with a whole heap of designs based on this house.”

  “These are this house?” Jet asked, stunned. He left the kettle to boil, leaning over the pages. It made such a wonderful change, looking at hard copy rather than a screen. There was something organic and textured about the paper, the pencil lines and the neat writing.

  “He used what he knew about this house and the collective knowledge on the internet to see what this house could look like.” Bethany flicked through the pages, pulling one to the forefront. “In this one, he renovated the shed and the laundry pipes behind to create a master bedroom and ensuite and in this one, the laundry faces a paved veranda, which would be out there,” she pointed behind her, beyond the water damaged rear wall that looked onto rambling garden and bramble, “and that wall would have floor to ceiling glass doors so that you can open it up in perfect weather or close it when needed.”

  “He’s reorientated the kitchen in this one,” Jet drew the page out, “the counter becomes an island and it faces that wall,” he looked to his left, “with all the appliances and sink behind…” The kettle clicked off and he poured the water into the cups. “How long has he been planning this?”

  “Last night to this morning,” Bethany laughed, “you know Rob. A robotic brain which doesn’t need sleep is a powerful tool. We were just talking about the issues with the house and how we could help…” Jet must have been frowning because she leaned across and gently pushed against his brow with her fingertips. “It’s not a now thing. These are just…dreams.”

  “Yeah,” he swallowed, “I just…I don’t want my mum to be right.”

  “Huh?”

  Jet licked his lips. “She said I had no life skills…”

  Bethany snorted. “We both know that’s not true.”

  “Can I weed the garden?” He asked sharply. “Can I mow the lawn? Can I unblock drains or fix a broken beam?” His breathing was shortening and becoming shallow. He closed his eyes and counted. “I…I don’t know…”

  Her arms wrapped around his chest, her body pressed against his back and her heat merged with his. “Let’s just take things one step at a time,” she urged gently, “tonight’s job, after making dinner, is to find a microwave you like and we’ll order it.”

  He wrapped his hands around her arms, holding onto her. “What about tomorrow?”

  “Aunt Jo says tomorrow has enough worries of its own.”

  He huffed and twisted in her arms so he could look at her. “That’s hardly comforting.”

  Bethany laughed and hugged him. “That’s what I think! But she’s right. Worrying about tomorrow is kind of pointless. I mean, most of the things you worry about don’t happen at all…and even if they did, did worrying stop them from happening? You only end up tired and stressed.”

  Jet nodded. “True. Okay…so…dinner?”

  They cooked and ate then sat on the lounge together, researching microwaves. After two days staring at screens, Jet’s brain was pretty well done in. With Bethany’s help they narrowed down the choices to three different microwaves and Jet went for the middle ground model.

  “Not cheap and nasty but not high end fancy.” He explained as he paid for it then sent the package link to the shipping company. “Want to watch a movie?”

  “As long as it’s something we’ve both seen before so we don’t have to concentrate.” Bethany leaned against him, looking over Rob’s plans for the house, scrolling through her phone at the same time.

  Jet relaxed into the lounge, gazing at the screen, feeling his body grow heavy. By the time the movie finished, he was desperately tired and it was late. He turned everything off and glanced at Bethany. She’d fallen asleep halfway through the movie, a cushion becoming a pillow. He smiled and stroked her hair gently then eased himself out from beneath her. He tucked a crocheted blanket around her, gathering the papers into a pile.

  He knew he should probably wake her and send her home but he was relieved that the house wasn’t empty for once. With Bethany in it, he didn’t feel so alone. He switched off the lights and went to his room, slumping into bed with the covers half over his body. It was a warm night and he drifted between the states of sleep, sometimes lightly and other times sinking so heavily it was like he was at the bottom of the world’s deepest sinkhole.

  But in the hour before dawn, he felt himself jostled awake. His eyes opened and he stared at the wall, his heart pounding. He glanced around the room, looking for what had hit him.

  “A dream?” The motion had been so real and strong he could hardly believe it had been imagined…and then it happened again.

  Jet sat upright, the house creaking and groaning and, from beneath the door, he could see golden ribbons of light.

  And he knew exactly what it was.

  “Oh no,” he flung the covers aside and threw open the door, “Bethany!”

  She lay on the lounge, still fast asleep, the ribbons of light circling her, threading through the house, pushing at the ceiling, sliding under doors…and in the ribbons were words, letters inscribing an incantation Jet hoped he’d never see again.

  “Bethany!” He cried but she remained asleep, her eyes closed in peaceful slumber, unaware of the power that was issuing from her body. Jet dodged the tendrils of light, trying to reach her but kept being pushed back. In his frantic need to reach her, he ignored the house’s aching throes, the shifting of its state…the reformation of its foundation…

  “Query, Jet, are you in there?”

  “Rob!” Jet cried. “It’s Bethany and that incantation! I can’t get to her!”

  Rob applied his shoulder to the door, snapping it easily from its hinges, Annie following immediately after but both were thrown to the wall, pinned by the incantation.

  “Jet…I cannot…move…”

  “It won’t let me reach her.”

  “Jet,” Jo appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide as she saw the incantation, understanding its presence immediately, “you have to command it!”

  “What?”

  “You’re its master!”

  “That was Pops!”

  “Jet, please!”

  The house was flexing and warping, walls shifting, tiles cracking and forming…and all the while Bethany slept, the incantation escaping her head as her fingers draped across the house plans.

  Jet closed his eyes. “I am its master…I am its master…” He concentrated, Gar’Dian’s memories, some of them at least, a part of his mind. He stretched out a shaking hand and pushed towards Bethany. “Not now…you’re not welcome now…” A tendril snapped at him and Jet half stumbled. “No,” he grunted, “no, you are not the master. You are a servant. You are not to be in control…let it go.” The incantation was writhing, furious at his tone. “Go quietly now. Retreat and sleep forever, until I call you forth.” The ribbons whipped, the house shaking. “Go quietly now. Retreat and sleep forever, until I call you forth.”

  It thrashed but the light was retreating, returning to Bethany, flowing around her body, so brilliantly bright it was white.

  Jet opened his eyes and looked at it firmly. “Go quietly now,” he said, repeating the words that came instinctively, “retreat and sleep forever until I call you forth.”

  With a bitter howl the incantation soaked back into Bethany’s body and for a moment, she glowed like a fallen star before the light dulled and she gave a little sigh, still fast asleep.

  “Well done,” Jo breathed, “are you two alright?” She asked Rob and Annie.

  “We appear to be uninjured.” Rob looked at Annie who nodded. “Query, are you well, Jo?”

  “I’m okay.” They moved towards the lounge as Jet knelt by Bethany’s side.

  “Bethany,” Jet called softly, stroking her hair, “Bethany…time to wake up.”

  Bethany could feel someone touching her hair. It was so relaxing and kind that she wanted to sink into an even deeper sleep but Jet’s voice was calling to her. She was so tired. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep while watching the movie and he was trying to wake her to go home? She had to force herself to open her eyes, looking up at him with a sleepy smile.

  “Did they all live happily ever after?” She asked then caught sight of her aunt, Rob and Annie peering over Jet’s shoulder. “Um…sorry…I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to scare…you…” She sat up and looked around. “Where am I?”

  She wasn’t in Jet’s lounge room anymore. It was a very nice white room with thick grey carpet and she was lying on a denim blue lounge which faced its twin across a coffee table, two matching recliners facing the coffee table and, above the mantle which housed a cavity where the hearth used to be, was a large, drop down screen.

  “Did you move me?”

  “Bethany,” her aunt sat gingerly on the coffee table as if afraid it might vanish, “what were you dreaming about?”

  “I…fell asleep daydreaming about house plans,” Bethany couldn’t understand their concern, “I remember I was walking into a really nice house that looked…well…a lot like Rob’s house plans…and kind of like this…” Her lips fell open and her heart began to beat rapidly. “Oh no…no, no, no…”

  “It seems the incantation Ah’Man created and Gar’Dian stole, that you used to bring me out of the coma, wasn’t quite satisfied with what it created.” Jo explained gently as Bethany pushed her hands through her hair. “It…looks as though…”

  “The incantation has remodelled Jet’s house,” Rob looked around, “according to my plans and your creativity.”

  Bethany held her hands against the sides of her head. “No, no, no…what did it do?”

  “Well…” Jet glanced behind him. “I’d say the water damage isn’t an issue anymore.”

  “Oh…I dreamed that was fixed,” Bethany groaned, “oh this is bad…so bad…is this your lounge room?”

  They all took stock of where they were standing.

  “It appears to be.” Jet swallowed.

  “I was under the impression that the incantation required elements in order for it to create.” Annie asked. “Query, where did it take them from?”

  “From the house,” Rob explained, “it used the elements already present and rearranged them.”

  Bethany felt cold to her core, her body in shock. “This is so bad!”

  “Well…before we decide how bad it is…let’s see what the damage is.” Aunt Jo decided in a firm voice. “We know the lounge room is changed.”

  Bethany held tightly onto Jet as they walked through the house. She was shaking hard and felt sick and wrung out. Rob held onto his sheaf of blueprints.

  “It appears you have remodelled the kitchen accord to plan Cs specifications,” he glanced at the kitchen which had lost its dated appearance and looked like it was a custom designed job with lighting in the cabinets that lined the wall and there were alcoves for appliances, “however, this fill in counter piece was not part of any of my designs.”

  Bethany looked at the drop down counter that could be lifted to create a solid L shape or dropped so that the counters were detached.

  “I thought it might be irritating to go all the way around the counter all the time,” she said hoarsely, “but didn’t want to lose the counter space…”

  “The dining room has floor to ceiling doors which opens onto a paved patio, covered with a shade cloth veranda.” Annie opened the doors and looked out. “On the corner of the house there is a gazebo attached to another veranda that runs down the side of the house.”

  “Query, is it a white gazebo and does it contain an egg chair swing love seat?”

  “Yes.” Annie looked at him.

  “That is in plan D,” Rob said almost apologetically, “I thought that corner of the house, furthest from any street traffic, might make for a pleasant place to sit and relax with a rambling garden view.”

  Bethany was as white as a sheet. “What about the garden shed?” She asked hoarsely.

  Jet was nearly holding her upright as they found a short passage that broached the narrow gap between the house and the shed. The fire hazard building had transformed into a beautiful master bedroom with a bay window at the front and a large, dark wood bed with lamps on the besides beside it and the bedlinen was a lovely green and cream paisley print. The bay window was lined with seats, padded with green cushions and the walls were green with cream trim.

  “I was browsing online last night,” Bethany looked at the bed, terrified, “and I saw that exact bedspread and thought how nice it was…”

  “There is a walk in robe and ensuite bathroom behind the bedroom,” Rob announced, coming out of the room, “and a small office…or perhaps nursery next to them.”

  “Nursery?!” Jet squawked.

  Despite having no emotions, Rob looked guilty. “One of the house ideas that I put into my sketches was to have a nursery close by but separate to the main bedroom. It was small enough for a nursery yet able to convert to an office or book room when the children were older…”

  Jet sank onto the bed.

  “Easy Jet,” Jo said with a wry smile, “don’t start thinking about that future just yet.”

  “Tomorrow has enough worries of its own,” he whispered, “and I’ve got enough today to deal with…”

  “Aunt Jo, what are we going to do?” Bethany begged. “People will start to ask questions! The house has changed shape!”

  “Not drastically.” Annie insisted. “Most of the changes could be put down to missed external upgrades and the hedge around the house is quite high.”

  “Oh help!” Bethany gasped. “The tiles! Please tell me the tiles are still blue!”

  Rob immediately left and they followed him out of the master bedroom to the kitchen where Jet made Bethany sit on a stool. Rob appeared momentarily.

  “The tiles are still blue,” he assured them, “and I agree with Annie that the exterior changes are something one might brush off.”

  “After all,” Jo looked at Bethany firmly, “who could believe that words put together in the right way could do something like this?”

  Jet retrieved a jacket and put it around Bethany’s shoulders. She looked like she was going to faint or be sick.

  “I feel I ought to let you know that the fa?ade has changed,” Rob added, “but as the veranda was already present, it looks like renovation, not incantation remodelling.”

  Bethany gave the smallest smile. “Was that a joke?”

  “No.” Rob blinked. “Query, was it funny?”

  She gave a small laugh then burst into tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s been so quiet! I never even thought it would come out like this.” Jet held onto her shoulders as she sobbed. “What are we going to do? What if it happens again? In broad daylight!”

  “I think Jet has the incantation under control.” Bethany looked up at her aunt who smiled at Jet. “He’s the one who ordered it to stand down. If he hadn’t, it might have tried to change all the houses in the cul de sac.”

  “It didn’t want to retreat,” Jet admitted, “I could feel its rage at being told what to do. It was like a child chucking a tantrum.”

  “The best way to deal with a tantrum is to be firm, maintain healthy boundaries and don’t feed it attention.” Jo yawned. “Good heavens…it’s going to be a long day today. I need to get back to House of Figs.” She saw Bethany’s frightened look. “I don’t think it’s going to rear its ugly head today or anytime soon. Why don’t you two take some time to familiarise yourself with all the changes.” She glanced around herself. “Because I think they’re here to stay.”

  Rob accompanied Jo back to House of Figs while Annie did a full walkthrough of the house and the grounds. Jet looked around at the kitchen, feeling lost.

  “I’d make you a cup of tea…but I don’t know where the kettle went.”

  “That panel,” Bethany pointed, her voice as frail as rice paper, “opens. It hides the kettle and toaster…”

  Jet glanced at her. “Another feature you thought was a good idea?”

  Her eyes were deeply shadowed and her lips trembled. “I am so sorry…”

  “You didn’t mean to do this,” he argued with her apology as tears began to fall again, “I…where did the tissues go?” He finally laid his hand on them, pushing them across the counter to her. “Look at it this way, all those issues with the house are solved!”

  “Because of a dangerous incantation in my head!” Bethany snapped, more out of fear than rage. “It got out and decided to completely makeover your house! Your house! Not mine! It did this to your house!” She looked around and sobbed. “It doesn’t look like your home anymore…”

  Jet paused, the notion that he was not in his childhood home surprising him. He was standing in the building of course but it was different. And yet, he wasn’t bothered by it.

  “I spent so many years thinking my Nan and Pop’s house was the only place I could be safe,” he said softly, the gears in his mind grinding over the revelation, “but when I learnt what Gary had done to my head, making me obsess over the number five…I didn’t feel safe here anymore. And I never thought of it as my house. It’s always been his…” He paused and turned around, admiring the newness of the paint, the solidness of the build and the way it had been streamlined and styled rather than cobbled together. “Even if I’d painted the walls a new colour, I would never have been able to forget that the colour underneath was old.” He smiled at her, surprisingly happy. “It’s completely different now.”

  “Yes but,” she blew her nose, “doesn’t it bother you that it was based on my preferences and not yours?”

  Jet snorted as he poured water into the cups, jiggling the tea bags. “Are you kidding? I hate all those gritty details. I mean, I like to see the finished product but what colour the carpet should be and what the walls should be painted to match and this tile or that tile…” He shrugged. “I just don’t care.”

  Bethany shook her head, some of her hysteria lessening as he remained calm. “I panicked thinking I’d ruined your sanctuary…I was sure you’d break down and get upset…”

  “I will when I can’t find anything…” His eyes widened. “My room!”

  He dashed to his room, looking around it and coming out with a deep sigh. “It looks as fresh and decent as the rest of the house and it looks like you left my computers and game console alone.”

  “I’m relieved I had some restraint in my imaginings.” Bethany chuckled.

  “That’s because you respect my oddness,” Jet replied firmly, “you didn’t change anything important.” He frowned and pointed at the kitchen. “Although that alcove looks empty.”

  Bethany glanced at it and groaned, laughing as she did so. “That’s where your new microwave goes.”

  They ate breakfast together, Annie checking in on them before heading back to House of Figs.

  “I need to go home and have a shower,” Bethany groaned, standing up, “I’m late for work…”

  “I think they’ll understand.” Jet walked her to the front door.

  “Hey, do you think you’ll move your room into the master bedroom?” Bethany admired the new veranda which was wider, structurally sound and had twin park bench chairs beneath the windows on either side of the front door. “You could turn your current room into your gaming room.”

  Jet shook his head. “That’s a grown-up bedroom.”

  “And you’re a grown-up.” Bethany said pointedly.

  Jet cleared his throat. “I mean…it’s a grown-up bedroom…where grown-up things…happen.”

  Bethany went to ask him what he meant when she caught sight of his expression and her cheeks flushed and the air in her lungs evacuated in a sharp exhale.

  “Oh,” she giggled, embarrassed and looked away, “well…just stay where you are…for now.”

  “Yeah, I will.” Jet cleared his throat. “So, I’ll see you at House of Figs later?”

  “Sure.” Bethany nodded and hurried up the path to the gate, slipping out and closing it behind her. She paused, out of sight of the front door, her hand going to her chest where her heart hammered wildly. “That…that was close…in more ways than one…”