Free The Future Falls by Tanya Huff

She’d once done such a kickass cover of the Cowboy Junkies’ “I Did It All For You” that when they finished the gig the drummer’d walked off stage and become a Trappist monk in New Brunswick. It might’ve been a coincidence, but Charlie didn’t think so.
    She waited until he’d started to toast the bread before saying, “Morning, Jack.”
    His huff of surprise fed the flame. “I knew you were there,” he mutteredas ash and a few black bits of bread still holding their structural integrity fell to the floor. He rubbed the smudge of soot off his thumb and forefinger and swept his hand over the scorch mark on the upper cabinet door, paint smoothing out behind the motion.
    â€œThat’s new. When did you become so comfortable with interior decorating?”
    â€œWhen you weren’t here.”
    That might’ve been fraught, except for the petulance. “Jack . . .”
    He sighed. “Allie doesn’t like the burn marks so, if I’m alone, I get rid of them before she sees them. If anyone’s there when it happens, I just take the shit.”
    â€œNot so much comfortable as sneaky.” Charlie nodded and grinned. “I like that I’m not anyone.”
    He blinked at her, confused. “Yeah, sure.”

    He
had
known she was there. In that he’d known she was home and that made
there
limited and he’d scented her in her room over in the other side of the apartment and her scent permeated this part of the apartment so it was like he’d known she was sitting on the floor by one of the sofas. Right? Why was she watching him like she’d never seen him burn the toast before? And what did she mean, she liked not being anyone? She was the most
someone
he knew.
    David hadn’t helped. If anything, David had made him more confused. It was still all questions when it came to Charlie.
    The whole time she’d been gone, Jack had kept mental lists of stuff he wanted to tell her when she got back, but he couldn’t remember any of it, so he said, “You’re up early.”
    â€œSo are you.”
    â€œCouldn’t sleep.” He kept thinking she’d leave before he saw her. She did that; showed up, did laundry, left. Left without saying good-bye, like by wanting her to stay he’d done something to drive her away. “Allie?”
    â€œStill asleep.”
    â€œKatie’s in your room.” He didn’t bother toasting the two new slices of bread he pulled from the fridge. Charlie’d probably think it was funny to see if she could make him burn them again. “She’s here a lot when you’re not.”
    â€œKatie fills in for the sisters Allie doesn’t have. I’m not her sister.”
    â€œDuh. You know Allie’s going to . . .” He waved at the twins, who turned in unison to stare at him, but when he didn’t burn anything down, they went back to running the train over with the sheep. “You here to have Graham knock you up?”
    â€œWhat!”
    Yeah, that broke the whole
too cool for the living room
thing she had going. Jack gave himself a mental high five and wished he had a way to record Charlie’s expression. “If Allie’s actually going to produce the seventh son of a seventh son of a seventh son of a Gale, you might have come home to help.”
    Charlie raised both hands, like she was shoving the idea away. “I didn’t.”
    â€œThe aunties think it’d be a good idea.”
    â€œI don’t.”
    â€œMe either.”
    â€œWasn’t that one too many sevenths?”
    He’d mumbled his protest into the cabinet while grabbing the peanut butter, so he wasn’t surprised she hadn’t heard it. Although Charlie usually heard everything. “Graham’s a seventh son of a seventh son,” he said as he turned, “so his seventh son will be the seventh son of a seventh son of a seventh