Darkness at the Edge of Town (Iris Ballard #2)(40)

I somehow got to The Temple without killing myself or anyone else with my road rage. There were a lot of cars on the street and packed into the driveway. I parked down the street and took several deep breaths to quell my anger and get into “Carol” mode.

Maybe it’ll be nice to pretend to be someone else tonight, I thought to myself as I approached the house. The three people smoking on the porch all smiled as I came into view. I recognized them from the party, especially Dutch, the one who thought he recognized me. I kept my head cowed as I moved up the path. “Uh, hi,” I said with an awkward wave.



“Carol, right?” Dutch asked. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks. I, uh, is Megan here?”

“Not right now,” he said, “but she’ll be back soon.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll come back.”

“Nonsense,” Dutch said, rising. “You’re welcome here anytime under any conditions. Helen’s here. She could probably use some help in the kitchen too. Most of us are out on ambassador duty.”

“Uh, okay. I can help. Sure.”

Dutch stubbed out his cigarette. “Come on.” He walked beside me past the other smokers, who smiled at me in unison. “You know, you do look real familiar. And I don’t mean that in a pickup-line kind of way.”

“People keep telling me that,” I said. “I-I don’t…” I shrugged. I was definitely working on borrowed time. He or someone else would figure it out soon. That fact did nothing to improve my mood or frame of mind. “I shop a lot. You’ve probably seen me around town.”

For all the new-frontier, new-values talk, the members seemed to adhere to traditional gender roles judging from the fact that I found only women in the kitchen preparing dinner. Helen and two pretty girls stood at the counter kneading bread, cutting veggies, and doing dishes. Helen’s face lit up when I entered. “Oh, my universe! You’re back!”

“Uh, yeah, hi,” I said with a little wave.



Helen moved around the counter toward me, pulling me into a warm hug. On instinct I froze up, but I quickly pushed the discomfort away and hugged her back as Carol would. “How are you doing? How are you feeling?” she asked, still hugging me.

“Better. I was up half the night sick as a dog, but I’m good now.” Helen pulled away first. “I came over to apologize. I was mortified by my behavior last night. It was so rude of me to come and go like that.”

“There’s absolutely no need to apologize,” Helen assured me. “None.”

“We’re just glad you came back,” one of the girls, a chubby brunette, said. We’d been introduced, but I couldn’t remember either of their names.

“Paul will be especially,” the blonde with the knife said. “He wouldn’t shut up about you all night.”

“Were you all introduced last night?” Helen asked. “If not, that’s Nessa with the knife, and Britt covered in dough. Guys, this is Carol.”

“We met last night. Hello,” I said.

“You’re staying for dinner, right?” Britt asked, still kneading the dough.

“Of course she is,” Helen said as she wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me into a side hug. “And I promise it won’t make you sick like that processed junk you’ve no doubt been eating. You may as well be downing straight poison with that trash.”

“After last night, I believe it. I’m just…I-I’d offer to help in the kitchen but when I boil water it lights on fire, so—”

“I’m sure you’re not that bad. Stop putting yourself down all the time,” Helen ordered.



“Yeah, now you have to say two things you like about yourself,” Nessa instructed, “to cleanse the negativity. You should start by saying ‘I’m not a good cook, but…’?”

I glanced at all three women with their pleasant smiles and realized they were serious. “Okay, uh…I may not be a good cook, but I’m smart and I’m a hard worker.”

“There. Don’t you feel better about yourself now?” Nessa asked, her smile growing.

“Yes,” I lied, my own humble smile stretching. “I-I think I do. Thanks.”

“It’s amazing how little life hacks like that help build your self-confidence and esteem. Right, Helen?” Britt asked.

Helen’s proud smile grew to epic proportions. She wasn’t faking, either. I didn’t have a doubt she genuinely cared for that girl’s well-being without an ulterior motive. A rare trait. “You’ve come so far, sweetie. I am so proud of you.”

Britt’s chubby cheeks turned bright red and she looked away. “Thank you.”

Helen squeezed my waist. “And as for you, we’ll make a chef out of you yet. We’re making two cheese lasagnas with the fresh goat and cheddar cheese Betsy sent from The Apex. It’s all organic and homemade. You will be my sous chef.” She pulled me toward the counter. “I’ve already started. It’s easy. Just layer the pasta, white cheese, then the yellow.” She pushed the two cheese blocks at me. “You’re on grating duty for now.”

After washing my hands with a block of soap I think they made themselves from God knew what, I returned to the cheeses and grater. “Do you make all your own food and ingredients?” I asked.