Both Abby and Jenkins had been facing away from the door. Abby jolted in surprise, while Jenkins jumped away with a yelp. The cream flew through the air and crashed onto the laminate floor, spilling its contents. He cursed — a gentlemanly curse — under his breath as he rushed to clean it up.

“Tim, you’re hurt again!” One would have expected Abby to rush to support Tim, but instead, she had rushed to help Jenkins clean the mess.

“Obviously,” Haley muttered, unfazed by Tim’s abrupt entry.

“It’s okay, I can clean it,” Jenkins said politely to Abby.

Jenkins was known for his gentlemanly demeanor around town. Elderly customers often praised him for his outstanding mannerism, stating that “young people these days could learn a thing or two from you, Jenkins,” and “your Aunt Drasilda raised an excellent boy.” That is, until something triggered his panic mode, namely: anything supernatural, Haley, spiders, Haley, roughnecks, Haley, and most recently — Tim.

“I’m fine, Abby,” Tim responded with a laugh, followed by a cheerful crooked smile.

Abby returned a grin before watching Jenkins scrub the floor quickly with one hand while handing Haley the remainder of the cream with the other. Haley stared at the cream for a moment before deciding to pour it into her coffee.

“So what happened this time? Dog bit your leg again?” Haley inquired as she stirred her drink with a disposable stir stick.

Tim’s face darkened.

“I was involved in some deep, dark underground dealings,” he replied, leaning forward with an intimidating gaze.

Jenkins was dumbfounded as he stared up at Tim. Haley casually chugged her coffee, emotionless as usual. Abby tried to stifle her laughter as she peered at Jenkins’ exaggerated expression.

“See?! I told you guys — Tim is dangerous and up to no good!” Jenkins whispered distressfully to the girls. “None of us are safe here!!”

Tim burst into laughter, grasping his stomach.

“You’re hilarious, J.K.!” Tim exclaimed between snickers. “You should have seen your face!!”

“Ha. Ha. Timothy has a sense of humor,” Haley jeered unenthusiastically.

“You’re so cute!” Abby said to Jenkins reassuringly as she rinsed the empty cream container that Haley had left on the counter. “Tim was only joking!”

Jenkins continued to whisper, “He might be trying to trick us into thinking that!”

“Oh, Jenkins, you’re such a nervous wreck,” said Abby, amusedly.

“I'm going back to work,” Haley announced in her signature deadpan manner. She leaned away, trying to distance herself from them as much as possible, and placed her empty cup on the counter before turning to leave. As she walked through the doorway, she bit her lip and secretly shot Tim a concerned look. Jenkins rushed after her, leaving Abby with the dirty cup. 

“W-wait for me!” He exclaimed, completely forgetting the towel on the floor. Abby placed the rinsed-out cup on the drying rack, picked up the towel, and rinsed it out in the sink.

“Don’t touch me!” Haley snapped at Jenkins. They could be heard through the door. “Your hand is sticky.”

“S-sorry …”

‘There’s that look again. She suspects something.’ Tim had become remarkably adept at reading Haley’s behavior over the years. Her icier-than-usual demeanor manifested when she was trying to divine what he was up to. It was not every day that Ruags, rogue Bloods, showed up on the surface, but on no less than eleven occasions, she had been a witness, her memory altered each time. He knew she was fumbling in the dark, trying to connect pieces that did not, and would never, fit; it was painful to watch.

“Ever since we were kids, as far back as I can remember, she always had a singular talent for ferreting out lies. From the day I first met her and Ricky, to the day I was initiated at sixteen and began my duties as a Keeper.” During their first meeting, he had told them that his mother was a nurse and his father was a park ranger. In hindsight, he reasoned it was his honesty on the topic she likely clocked as aberrant. “She was always perceptive like that.”

Halting his internal thoughts, Tim returned to the job at hand. He finished the coffee he had poured himself and got back to work.

Tim made his way to the change-room and stopped as Abby addressed him, “What’s happening to you, Tim? For the past month, you’ve been getting hurt pretty often!” It seemed as though she’d meant to ask eons ago.

“Oh, nothing really,” Tim replied in a carefree manner. “Lady Luck just turned her back on me lately.”

“In that case, I hope Lady Luck returns soon,” said Abby as she made her way to the break-room door. She smiled again, but her wavering eyes gave away her worry. She hesitated for a few moments in the doorway; however, Tim did not seem to want to explain himself further. “I’m going back to work too. Just give a shout if you need any help.” She gave him a supportive smile.

“I will, thanks!” Tim replied, facing away from her.

As Abby left, Tim’s face darkened as he brooded over the events from last night.