“Oh, I was just…” I began. “Bringing it in because of the rain forecasted for later tonight.”
I played the answer back in my head. It was plausible. I looked at Angela; she seemed convinced. “Oh, I guess I had better take in some of the things in our back yard too,” said Angela. I couldn’t tell, but there may have been a hint of a mocking tone in that last statement. Or maybe I was just paranoid.
We sat in silence for about two minutes, both thinking about our own things. Then Angela broke the silence.
“How were the Parkers?” she asked.
I was jolted out of my thoughts by her question. If she thought I was going into the Parkers’ house, then that meant I was the only one who saw the house as Peter Blank’s house in 1942. I looked over at the house subconsciously. It was still Peter’s.
“They have a beautiful home,” Angela gushed. “I can’t imagine how much work it takes to keep it looking so nice.”
I smiled, pretending that I too saw a perfect suburban house with a white picket fence and a perfectly manicured lawn. At the same time I was worried sick about what I was seeing. Peter still hadn’t told me what was going on, and that meant that anything could be happening. And he had further complicated matters by revealing to me that he knew about the Grim Guider.
“It was… an interesting visit,” I said, still wondering how much time Angela could have on her hands that she spends so much of it spying on me.
It was very strange. I would have thought that after my small rejection of Angela yesterday, she would be a bit embarrassed and probably not as eager to see me. But that had not turned out to be true. She was still my number one fan, unfortunately. Then, ironically, Angela broke my thoughts.
“Here comes Mr. Parker now,” she said.