"Already did. She's the one who told me to keep you in the loop. I think she was heading toward sleep too. Would she want me to wake her up to talk to you?"

I talked through a yawn. "Nah, it can wait. Thanks for the call, Butters."

"No trouble," he said. "Sleep is god. Go worship."

I grunted, hung up the phone, and didn't get to take the second step toward my bed when someone knocked at the door.

"I need one of those trapdoors," I muttered to Mister. "I could push a button and people would fall screaming down a wacky slide thing and land in mud somewhere."

Mister was far too mature to dignify that with a response, so I kept a hand near my gift rack as I opened the door a crack and peeked out.

Susan tilted her head sideways and gave me a small smile. She was wearing jeans, an old tee, a heavy grey fleece jacket, and sunglasses. "Hi," she said.

"Hi."

"You know, it's hard to tell through the door, but your eyes look sunken and bloodshot. Did you sleep last night?"

"What is this thing you speak of, 'sleep'?"

Susan sighed and shook her head. "Mind if I come in?"

I stepped back and opened the door wider. "No scolding."

Susan came in and folded her arms. "Always so cold in here in the winter."

I had a couple suggestions on how to warm up, but I didn't say them out loud. Maybe I didn't want to see her response to them. I thought about what Murphy had said about setting up a talk. I got some more wood and stirred up the fireplace. "Want me to make some tea or something?"

She shook her head. "No."

Susan never turned down a cup of hot tea. I tried, but I couldn't keep a hard edge out of my voice. "Just going to dump me and run, then. Drive-by dumping."

"Harry, that isn't fair," Susan said. I could hear the hurt in her voice, but only barely. I raked harder at the fire, making sparks fly up, though flames were already licking the new wood. "This isn't easy for anyone."

My mouth kept running without checking in with my brain. My heart maybe, but not my brain. I shot her a look over my shoulder and said, "Except for Captain Mediocrity, I guess."

She raised both eyebrows. "Do you mean Martin?"