Cruel Zinc Melodies

3

Back from the front door, I asked, ‘‘What happened to you, Dean? You looked like you got a sudden case of young man’s fancy.’’

‘‘The one with the marvelous chestnut hair.’’

‘‘Bobbi.’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘Her name is Bobbi. Bobbi Wilt. Tasty, huh?’’

He showed me a scowl but it wasn’t his best. ‘‘It’s remarkable how much she resembles someone I used to know.’’

Someone who’d had a huge impact. Dean was so distracted he was ready to walk into walls.

He has worked for me since I bought the house. In the beginning he lived with one of his brigade of homely nieces. Then it just made sense for him to move into one of the extra rooms upstairs. That kept him from bringing the nieces round, trying to fix them up. He never said much about his olden days. He was in the Cantard the same time as my grandfather. They never met. He knew folks on my mother’s side.

None of which matters now. Dean cooks for me and keeps house. And works hard at filling in for my judgmental mom.

Dean shook like a big old dog that just ambled in out of the rain. ‘‘I guess when you’re my age, everybody looks like somebody you’ve already met.’’

‘‘Who does she remind you of?’’

‘‘A girl I knew. My own Tinnie Tate. An old regret. It doesn’t matter anymore. It was a long time ago.’’

Clever. He got in a dig even there.

‘‘Must have been something special.’’

‘‘She was. She was indeed.’’ He drifted toward the kitchen. ‘‘We’re out of apples again.’’

Pular Singe is addicted to stewed apples. Dean indulges her shamelessly. Despite ingrained prejudice.

Ninety-eight of a hundred TunFairens loathe ratpeople just for existing. They can’t help it.

‘‘I’m not inclined to pay a premium because we’re way off season.’’

‘‘Noted. You aren’t inclined to pay more than the minimum for anything in any season.’’

Sharper than a serpent’s tooth, the ingratitude of a servant confident in the security of his position.

‘‘I hope you have something ready for lunch. I have to go out, soon as I fill up.’’

He paused long enough to benefit me with his full frontal scowl.