Something About Harry(32)
His mouth opened as he backed up against the moss green wall with the bleached white wainscoting she’d just painted, but no words came out. He slammed his lips shut, compressing them into a tight line.
Carl gave him an awkward thump on the back and a misshapen crooked smile as Nina led him into Mara’s kitchen and opened her stainless steel refrigerator in search of fresh vegetables for the zombie she’d apparently adopted.
This, much like the scenario she’d created about Harry’s house, was not how she’d pictured him in hers. He definitely hadn’t been a curmudgeonly werewolf, and his clothes were never on for longer than the two seconds it took to rip them off. Before ripping off hers, that is.
Harry ducked under the copper pots hanging from the thick block of whitewashed wood above his head and leaned on the counter, his beautiful eyes a little dull, probably on overload with still more paranormal crazy. “Carl is a zombie. But not a flesh-eating zombie, a vegetable-eating zombie.” His words were wooden, but still calm. That was good. Calm beat sassy.
“Half zombie,” Mara corrected, looking down at her feet, noting she still had some work to do on her newly installed barn wood floors. She just couldn’t seem to get the right color throw rugs for it.
“Who doesn’t eat people.”
Her head bobbed. To Harry, this was clearly nuts. For Mara, it was just another day in the life—and in this moment, a distraction. A sweet, adorable, if not smelly one. “Right. Just vegetables, broccoli being his favorite. Lots of broccoli, according to Guido.”
She lifted her eyes in time to catch Harry cocking his head. “But if he’s a zombie . . .”
“Half zombie, rocket scientist. Stop stereotyping, dude,” Nina quipped with a grin as Carl consumed a package of carrots, plastic wrapper and all. She thrust a napkin at him, showing him how to wipe his mouth with gentle hands.
“I don’t understand,” Harry responded, limp and almost lifeless, as he looked on at the scene unfolding before him.
“What’s to fucking understand, dude? Guido told you—Carl was near dead and bleeding out. He was gonna die in a matter of seconds anyway. There wasn’t time for nine-one-one or any of that shit. Guido just tried to save him. Decent, considering he’s a shyster.”
“This,” Harry pointed at Carl’s discolored skin and toddlerlike eating habits with a grimace, “is saving him? What kind of life can he have? Leaving him like this, with no ability to communicate and only a small portion of his brain functioning, was considered a save in your world? I don’t like your world.”
Nina gave him the finger, her eyes angry. “You don’t like anything today, do you, widdums?” she cooed. “Guess what? That’s too bad, pal, ’cus here the fuck you are. You heard what Guido said—he tried to help him. I know he’s telling the truth because I read him. Carl’s the result of a botched spell to save him gone wrong. An accident. Just like you, Harry Emmerson. Not all the facts add up, blah, blah, blah.”
“But,” Harry began another protest, one Mara was sure was filled with quality-of-life stats.
Nina’s face went angry, her eyes flashing at Harry. “Who the fuck are you to decide, dude? And what’s the point? Carl’s here—right now. It’s already done, ass-sniffer. If you don’t like that I decided his life, no matter how insignificant to you, is worthy, ask me how much I give a fuck. Or better yet, you take him out and end his insignificance, why don’t you? You got the balls for that, Harry? ’Cus you’re gonna have to go through me to do it. Good luck, Chuck.”
Instantly, Harry’s face held an apology mingled with horror. “No!” he immediately responded. “That’s not what I meant. I mean . . . I don’t know what I mean—it’s just . . . I don’t get . . .”
Nina’s mood instantly changed, her tone held disgust and impatience. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t get it. We’ve done this already tonight. We told you some shit just can’t be explained. But did you listen? Nah. Why the fuck would you listen to us bunch of brainless twits whose collective IQ doesn’t total even half of yours? ’Cus you know better. Right, Harry?” Nina asked, handing Carl a head of cauliflower. “And if you touch my zombie, I touch you. Trust when I tell you it won’t be like your mother’s touch.”
Mara’s hand flew up before Harry’s calmer state became riled again. She liked this Harry much better. He was easier on her shattered nerves. “Stop. Both of you. Please. Harry’s exhausted, Nina. He’s saying things I’m sure he doesn’t mean due to situation normal all effed up. I’m exhausted, too. Please, let’s not bicker anymore. Let’s not beat Harry up for trying to make sense of all this. Let’s just agree to let this sit until tomorrow. Which is in two hours for lab geeks like me.”