Dragon Soul (Dragon Falls, #3)(10)

On that less-than-cheerful thought, he managed to set an alarm on his phone and remove his shoes before falling onto the bed in an exhausted heap.

He had a very bad feeling about his upcoming burglary, and fell asleep practicing a not-very-believable explanation of just what he was doing if he should be caught.





Three




“Is your man going to take us to dinner?”

I sighed and watched as Mrs. P cleaned out a small basket of seashell-shaped soaps, dropping them into her suitcase alongside the tiny shampoo samples, two washcloths, and a stack of notepaper from the zebra-striped desk that dominated the Oriental Suite. “Rowan isn’t my man, and no, so far as I know, he won’t be joining us for dinner.”

“I like him.” She gave a complacent nod, then patted her suitcase. “He will serve us both well, I think.”

I waited until she padded into the bathroom in search of more things to take before removing the towels from her suitcase. “Serve us well? You mean in helping us get taxis and things? Just because we’re at the same hotel doesn’t mean we can count on him for help getting to the airport tomorrow.”

“Serve us well helping us get me to my beau, of course,” she answered with a placidness that was disarming. She looked like she could have been anyone’s grandmother, and yet there she was trying to stuff a rubber shower mat into her suitcase.

“I think perhaps you’re a little confused about a couple of things,” I said as gently as I could. “You remember that we’re on our way out to Egypt where you’re going to take a trip down the Nile, right?”

“You are going to help me across the Duat to find my beau. You and your man,” she answered, nodding before glancing around the room for anything else that looked likely. She eyed a lampshade, then gave a little shake of her head.

“I just don’t… what exactly is a Duat… boy, I wish I hadn’t left behind that piece of paper with your grandson’s phone number on it. What was his name? I think he needs to know that you’re a bit… confused.”

“I am not confused,” she answered, straightening her back and giving me a look that made me feel like a big meanie for picking on a little old lady. “I know more about what’s going on than you do if you don’t think your young man will help us.”

I gave up trying to reason with her and decided that it was probably better to humor her than point out the obvious. So I nodded, and made a conciliatory gesture. “Are you hungry, or would you like to have a little nap? Or perhaps take a little stroll around the neighborhood?”

She let her eyelids drop halfway. “I had a nap on the plane.”

“I suppose we could have dinner early—”

“No.” Mrs. P eyed me, her lips pursing at what she saw. “You need to be lithe to cross the Duat.”

“Hey, no judgments,” I said, tugging down my t-shirt. “I am entirely comfortable with myself and don’t allow people to body shame me. Yes, I could lose a few pounds, and yes, I stopped swimming because there was an outbreak of chlamydia at my local pool, but that’s no reason to look at me as if I was Sophea the Hippopotamus.”

Mrs. P stared at me in surprise.

I made an irritated gesture. “Okay, it wasn’t chlamydia—that’s some venereal disease that koalas get, but it was something that started with a C. Crypto-something. Whatever the reason, I stopped going to the Y every day for a swim, but that doesn’t give you the right to judge me. Viva la difference, that’s what I say! Everyone is beautiful in their own way, especially those women who refuse to conform to society’s stupid unrealistic standards of beauty!”

I took a deep breath to continue my tirade, but Mrs. P stopped me by gesturing to my feet. I’d worn the only slip-ons I owned through the airport, which were my sole pair of heels. “Your shoes, gel, your shoes. You can’t be lithe in those things. You’d likely wrench your ankle if you had to run more than a few blocks.”

“Oh.” I looked down at my shoes. “Oh, I thought you meant—never mind. Sorry I jumped to that conclusion. It’s just that body shaming is so prevalent these days.”

She took the towels that I had removed from her suitcase, and tucked them back into her luggage. “Why should you feel any shame about your body? You are round and fleshy where women are round and fleshy. Your man must enjoy that. My beau always took much pleasure in my breasts and hips. He often said that my hips could talk him into anything.”

I couldn’t help but note her wizened figure, with nonexistent breasts, and no sign of curved hips at all, and then was instantly ashamed of myself. I was doing the very same thing I objected to in others. “You go, girlfriend,” I told her, and as penance for my slipshod ways, allowed her to keep the two towels. “Well, then, I guess we could take a stroll around the block. You know, just to get a bit of fresh air and to see the neighborhood.”

“No.”

I sighed to myself. It was going to be a very long night if she continued to be so obstinate. “Would you like to see a movie? I’m not sure where we could find one in English, but—”

“I wish to attend a séance.”

“You what?” I sat down on the striped couch, and wondered if the jet lag had caused me to hear incorrectly. “A séance? For whom? Or rather, what?”