“Fine.” To Molly’s quickly hidden shock, Mother Tick swung the door open and waved them in. “I can’t take too much time, though. My son’ll be home soon, and he’ll need his lunch.”

“You have a son?” Molly hurried into the house before the offer could be rescinded. “How old is he?”

“Oh, he’s grown.” Mother Tick led them into a dimly lit living room. “He still loves his mom’s cooking, though.”

“I’m sure he does.” Taking in the heavy, closed drapes that cut off almost all natural light, Molly couldn’t keep herself from sending John a quick, bug-eyed look. The single floor lamp struggled to illuminate the space, providing just enough light to show an orange shag carpet and a floral couch. Squinting into the shadows coating the walls, Molly nearly recoiled when she caught a glimpse of glassy eyes staring at her. As her vision adjusted from the sunny outdoors to the dim interior, she realized that the walls were covered with taxidermy animal heads. “Oh…my. Do you hunt?”

John gave a slight cough into his fist to hide an obvious laugh. Smiling at Mother Tick, Molly resisted the urge to kick him on the ankle. If he kept that up, he was going to set her off, too. She sat down on the floral couch and was immediately swallowed up. Using John’s grip on her hand as leverage, she pulled herself out of the enveloping sofa cushion and perched on the edge, where she was in less danger of being eaten by the furniture.

“No. That was my ex-husband.” To Molly’s relief, Mother Tick seemed oblivious to John’s amusement, even though his dimple was in full appearance. He settled next to Molly, without giving up his grip on her hand. She didn’t mind. It was oddly reassuring to hang on to him, especially in this strange, dark house where Sonny was likely lurking. “I only kept those after the divorce because he loved those nasty things so much, and I wanted to piss him off.”

“Oh. Okay.” Molly blinked. “Do you live here alone, then?”

When Mother Tick’s expression closed, showing the suspicion Molly had thought they’d put aside once they’d been invited in, she hurried to smooth things over.

“It’s such a beautiful, big house.” Molly looked around, acting as if she could see much of anything in the low light. “But I’m sure the upkeep takes up a great deal of your time. That’s one reason we’re hesitating on buying the church; we’re worried that it’ll be a money pit.”

Mother Tick’s sour expression eased, and Molly gave a silent sigh of relief.

“If we do become neighbors,” John chimed in, “we’ll be happy to help you with the lawn and other things like that.”

“Thank you. Sky is supposed to do all of that for me, but he gets busy and things slip his mind.”

“Sky?” Molly echoed, confused.

“My son.”

“Oh! Right.” Molly avoided meeting John’s gaze again, since she was already on the edge of laughter. How did someone go from the name Sky to the nickname Tick? They were both found in nature, but that was about the extent of the similarities. “He does live with you, then.”