He was plenty busy. With Jillian gone, Sonja had more than enough work to keep him occupied during the day. Instead of sleeping, in his after-dinner hours he found himself wanting to call Charlotte, to tell her about his day or ask for updates on the wonderful and strange birth story. But he’d been the one to ask for this “time apart to think”–like an idiot–and now he had to do the responsible thing and really examine his feelings about Charlotte and the curse and her offer and…a bunch of stuff he probably wasn’t mature enough to manage.

He knew he was wrong to get angry at Charlotte for offering to remove the curse. He was just thankful he hadn’t lashed out any broader than he had. Fear could do stupid and destructive things to people, and he’d almost fallen victim. He thought maybe he wasn’t even angry at Charlotte for meddling. Maybe it was the idea that she made this offer and it might not even work–like the possibility of false hope was enough to make him snap? The idea of being able to move and speak and hell, dance without the weight of the curse on his shoulders? It made him ache with want so bad he couldn’t breathe. Charlotte was offering him a whole new life. And if it didn’t work–even if the curse wasn’t made exponentially worse–it might just break him.

But even if it didn’t work, he had a feeling Charlotte would still be there. She hadn’t been the least put-off by the curse or its side-effects. As long as she wasn’t put off by his occasionally acting like a jackass, they might have a bright future together.

“Leonard, you doin’ all right?” Zed asked.

“Yeah, sure, why?” Leonard responded absently.

“Because in all the time you’ve worked here, you’ve never so much as stepped in this building.” Zed told him.

Leonard looked up and realized that he’d wandered into the parish hall, a large multi-purpose space where the various departments–finance, public works, everything else–were simply desks in one room. How he hadn’t heard the constant ringing of phones around him, he had no idea. Zed and Bael were the only public employees to have their own offices, and that had more to do with the confidentiality of the information they handled than any prestige. He supposed that would all change, with the increased funding and other concerns heading into the town. And part of that made him sort of sad. A big part of the charm of Mystic Bayou was how the people did things their own way.

But this was not the time to think about population growth and culture change. Because the Mayor was staring at him warily. And it wasn’t wise to provoke a wary mayor that could shift into a bear.