Seer by Robin Roseau Read Free Book Online Page A

the garage. Mounted near the door was a key safe. I opened it, hung her keys up, and then closed it again. Dolores watched me the entire time.
    “Wow.”
    “Thank you for not arguing with me,” I said. “What kind of wine did you bring?”
    While Dolores opened the wine, I said, “Dinner is, by and large, simple tonight. I am doing broiled salmon. We’ll prepare the marinade and get the fish soaking. Along with it we’ll have curried broccoli soup, fresh biscuits, and a salad. I think we’ll save your dessert for a break between rounds.
    “What can I do to help?”
    “Do you know how to peel broccoli?”
    “You peel broccoli?”
    I smiled. We washed our hands and the broccoli, then I showed her how I peel it. “There’s probably an easier way, but if there is, I don’t know it. You’ll see there’s sort of a skin on it. We don’t want that in the soup, as it won’t puree very well.”
    I worked on the salmon while Dolores began peeling the broccoli. It was a very time-consuming task, but the resulting soup was wonderful and well worth it. After that, I worked on the salad. Dolores peeled more broccoli. Then I did up the mix for the biscuits. Finally, I helped Dolores with the last of the broccoli.
    While we worked, we talked. We were just finishing when the bell rang. I thought about sending Dolores, and if she were any less nervous, I would, but I decided to take care of it myself. I really wish people would let themselves in for cards, but they never did, even though I’d asked more than once.
    At the door were Dean and Mike. They were partners. Dean worked in I.T., like me, and Mike worked construction. They were an unlikely couple, about as different as two guys can be, but they loved each other to pieces, and they were good guests besides.
    “I brought my tools,” Mike said. “Put me to work.”
    I laughed. “You don’t want to help cook?”
    “Oh honey,” said Dean, “You know him in a kitchen. If it’s not a slab of cow going onto the grill, he’s worthless.”
    “The closet door in my office is sticking,” I said. “It’s all I’ve got for you. But Mike, you could just keep us company. You don’t have help cook. Come on. I’ll introduce you to Dolores.” I paused, then leaned closer to Dean. “Be nice to her. She’s the nervous type, and I don’t want you giving her your normal shit. She’s vulnerable right now.”
    “Ooh , hoo,” said Dean. “Protective of your new girlfriend?”
    “She’s not my girlfriend,” I said. “She’s straight.”
    “Oh honey,” Dean said, “There’s straight, and then there’s straight.”
    “Just be nice to her.”
    “You wound me!” he protested. “I’m always nice.”
    Mike scoffed at that. Dean was very good at separating the weak ones from the herd. Over the years, he’d chased three people away from our monthly card club. Dean was fiercely protective of his friends, and he’d nursed me through a few broken hearts, and I loved him. But he could be a real jerk, too.
    “I mean it, Dean,” I warned him. “Play nice.”
    “All right, all right,” he said. “This week.”
    I made a low, growling noise, but I knew it was the best I was going to get out of him. I led the two of them to the kitchen and introduced them to Dolores. Mike hung out long enough to get a glass of wine, then said, “I’ll go take a look at that door.”
    Dean actually played nice, although when he got a moment to whisper in my ear, he muttered, “There’s a photo in the dictionary.”
    “Oh?” I asked, falling into his trap.
    “Yes, it’s a photo of Dolores next to the definition of High Strung.”
    I thought that was mean, but it was typical Dean, and actually pretty tame for him. And at least he hadn’t said it to her. “She’s very sweet,” I said. “She needs friends, Dean.”
    He studied me. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”
    “They aren’t my secrets, and if you do a thing to make her uncomfortable, you won’t get