Quig's Apartment that Same Night

"Poppa Quig, can we switch bedrooms? Mine is haunted."

Quig opened a door painted to look like a bookshelf. Shadows danced on the wall above Betsy's pink bed. "See no ghosts." He wore a casual muted green suit without his matching tie.

Hisses filled the room. Stanton's face appeared briefly on the wall, and then an image of a skull covered his face.

A woman with translucent skin flickered in and out of the room. The lights faded and screams filled the air. "Help me! I'm dead."

Quig gulped. "Okay, I guess I'm sleeping in the kitchen."

They walked to the kitchen, and a birthday cake covered the table.

Quig lit the candles, and they sat down.

His warm breath extinguished the twenty-five candles on his piece of birthday cake. He placed two new candles on Betsy's piece. "Each of my guests should receive one wish, but nobody else can attend, so you get them. Why do I care? My wishes won't come true." He lifted his fork toward his mouth, but he didn't eat.

Scents of burning wax, vanilla, and mint filled the air.

"Poppa Quig, they count." Betsy stuck her fork in the frosting.

"I wish Grew-Ella was here, and we could have a little party." He chewed and swallowed. "And that I win back custody of you because you're my princess."

"Poppa Quig, do you wish to remove your wings? Like a birthday wish?" She asked. "Mine are tiny, but I like them even if I never fly. Only dragons can fly above buildings, so it doesn't matter much."

"I might remove one, if medically necessary, or if I needed to flee the kingdom, but not to fit in." He dug into the frosting. "Share your wishes, or they won't come true. I wished to have a birthday party, but I doubt that will happen."

"Poppa Quig, I'll wish for something better. I wish you and Grew-Ella would marry." Betsy blew the tiny flames out, shoved the piece in her mouth, and chewed. "My mother Ida is gone. I pretend that she is okay for you, but it's not like I know her."

"She is living in the workhouse." He forked the last mouthful of cake, trying not to sob.

"They allow phone calls. She abandoned us again. They refuse to admit it if anyone escapes, but she had to have signed the cancellation of my adoption papers. I know what you wished for, but I wish I didn't ever have to see her again." Betsy hugged him. "My so-called-mother is supposed to be saving the world, but she really doesn't do much. Why would she be fighting for custody when she's only visited me twice this year?"

"Time for church." He guided her to the living room.

Murals of wild animals covered his teal walls. Karen's signature looped under a fox wearing a top hat. He opened another door.

They walked to a simple home church altar tucked in a corner of the room.

Once a broken end table, but repainted and plastered with fish stickers. He set scriptures, a painting of Jesus, two electric candles, incense, and a lesson book on top.

After they prayed, Quig moved hiking gear off the couch and left it in a closet.

They ate veggie cheese crisps, watched movies, and played video games.

"Time for bed," Quig said.

He left her in his bedroom.

After washing in the guest bathroom, he played holographic video games alone in his bunny pajamas, edited his novel, and graded papers on his laptop.

Knocking startled him.

"Quig, our calls to you bounced," Dot said from the hall.

He stumbled to the door and opened it.

Ruby stood behind Grew-Ella and Dot. She didn't speak.

"Why isn't your nephew here?" Quig asked.

"He is with my mom." Dot walked closer to her brother. "Please hide Grew-Ella. Ruby and I are staying with your mother, but Stanton might look for her there. We'll be down the hall if you need us."

"The university believes Stanton is harmless," Grew-Ella said.

Quig hugged her. "I'll make room."

Dot smirked, and Quig stuck his tongue out when Grew-Ella wasn't looking.

"Happy birthday." Dot rummaged through her pocket and gave him a small, cloth-wrapped gift.

"I love you too." He opened it, revealing a glow-in-the-dark pen.

Ruby and Dot left.

"Welcome to the Hotel Quig Curie-Lock. I'll provide three-star food and one-star accommodations." He pointed around his apartment. "You can sleep on the cot in the closet. Other options are in the tub, a sleeping bag in the laundry room, or the couch. I'm using the inflatable and sleeping in the kitchen. Betsy is in my room because hers is haunted, and I need to turn the laundry room into her new bedroom. You could stay in her room."

Grew-Ella stretched her tired muscles. "The couch is fine. I refuse to share a room with angry ghosts. Would you sleep there?"

"Maybe not," he said.

A fist hit the door with a hard knock. "It's me, Dot; there is no room for me unless I sleep in the mini-tub. Your mother invited like fifteen people."

Quig opened the door.

"All I have left is the ghost room," Quig said.

"It's better than the mini-tub." Dot walked into Betsy's bedroom and fell asleep, despite the wails of the surrounding undead.

Deafening icy wind whirling, bending evergreen trees, and other sounds of winter could be heard through the walls.

Screams and giggles came from the bedroom. Betsy skipped out of the doorway. Her black hair bounced, and her cheeks spread upward. "Auntie Grew-Ella, you're here. We wished for it. My other wishes will come true."

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Quig asked. "You'll wake up, Dot."

"But Poppa Quig, Grew-Ella needs hugs." Betsy wrapped her arms around Grew-Ella and whispered, so Quig couldn't hear. "Poppa wished for a birthday party. He is sad."

"I love you too, and I'll take care of everything." Grew-Ella moved Betsy to face the bedroom.

"I'll be a good girl and go to sleep." Betsy rushed toward the bedroom, but she stopped. "Poppa Quig, did you buy enough food? My tummy will be hungry in the morning."

"Yes, I bought actual groceries for the storm, but I also purchased a used 3D food and med printer last week. I ate scrap soup and stale lemon rolls for five months to pay for it."

Betsy threw herself on the couch and ate a crisp she found between the couch cushions. "The soup was fine, but the rolls were yucky. Are you having a birthday lunch?"

"We'll eat chicken nuggets." Quig pointed toward the bathroom.

"My tummy finds that yummy." Betsy entered the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and ran into the bedroom. She attempted to turn on the TV.

"Kids watch TV in the living room." He smiled at her.

"Okay, no TV, but Poppa Quig, I demand fourteen hugs from Auntie Grew-Ella."

Betsy counted each hug until she fell asleep.

Quig and Grew-Ella snuck into the living room.

"May I borrow one of your green suits tomorrow?" Grew-Ella sat down. "Why have you started wearing them? Only non-elite women are forced to wear them, not men unless they are a reject."

"I'm protesting the class system with what I wear, and since I am a broken elite, I don't care anymore, and I wear them for my daughter, so that she knows what I stand for."

"It's daring Stanton to give you reject status," she said.

"Maybe it is," Quig said. "But since I only wear them in the classroom, he can't complain without risking being banned off campus. He's not stupid."

"He is getting too bold, and I am afraid he'll look for me at my apparent." She stopped speaking and stared at him.

Quig tossed an unopened veggie cheese crisp bag at her. "Is it him or Chase you're hiding from, or both? Do they work together? If you don't feel safe, I'll do anything you need to protect you from them. I've attempted to get Stanton banned off campus for six months."

"You know I can't stand talking about my ex. Chase is okay, and our breakup wasn't only his fault. We actually broke up before he started dating my sister; he wasn't cheating on me, and our engagement is over." She grinned and tried to stop.

"I need to know. Is your sister still seeing him? She started coming on to me." Quig opened another bag.

"Everyone hopes to set you up with her." Grew-Ella's arms wrapped around herself.

"No, Zill makes me uncomfortable." He grimaced, and his wings dropped behind him. "I, um... kept a secret. Dean Flint invited me to the last dating meet and greet as his wingman. Well, your sister asked me out, but I told her I wasn't interested, and she had a fit. She's also the one who texted Stanton about your fertility issue. It's why he desires you as his mistress."

"Flint told me," Grew-Ella said through her partially clenched teeth.

Quig's eyes widened. He walked over to where she sat, and his stronger wing stretched around her. "I hope I didn't hurt your feelings. Is that why you rejected—"

"No, it's not. You'd never hold my fertility against me." She interrupted him and grabbed more crisps.

"I always felt a kinship to you because we both had great moms who aren't related to us. Betsy deserves the childhood we had."

"Yes, she really does."

Around ten, he dragged the inflatable mattress to the kitchen and shut the door behind him.

Grew-Ella woke up, and she looked at the clock near the TV. The light flashed at 5:49 a.m., and she tried to sleep, but she wasn't tired. She tiptoed over Quig, cooking, but the aromas of baking did not wake him.

Grew-Ella silenced the alarm and allowed Quig to sleep in. She arranged homemade party hats on the table with stacks of birthday waffles covered with sparkling flecks of colored sugar, and she removed warm sausage-stuffed cocoon rolls out of the oven.

He sat on the inflatable mattress. "I overslept, and Betsy is probably starving."

"She and Dot are both sleeping in. I sent the assignments via text and taught an online class." Grew-Ella tripped into Quig's arms.

His voice cracked. "Thank you."

She jumped up and rolled up the legs of the suit she had borrowed. "Today is all about you. I'm throwing you a brunch birthday party, and I made you a couple of gifts, and I baked applesauce cake, but it's not finished."

The doorbell rang.

"Ruby, Avery-Joy, and others are coming. Your mother has to leave early. She is volunteering in the cafeteria." Grew-Ella rushed to the door, and guards trailed behind the others.

Party guests wore pajamas.

Dot and Betsy finally woke up.

"This is the best birthday I've had in years. Grew-Ella, you're the kindest person I know." He grinned at her.

Betsy skipped out of the bedroom. "Grew-Ella, are you getting married to Poppa Quig?"

The guests laughed.

Grew-Ella hugged Betsy. "I'm glad you love me, but my sister has a greater chance of marrying Poppa Quig than I do."

Quig sat at the table behind his breakfast plate, picked the sugar off his waffle, and a small sigh slipped through his lips.

Dot walked over to her brother. "It's not you, but I can't explain at the party. We'll talk in a few days." She smiled at Ruby.

Grew-Ella's face crumpled when she noticed Quig's abject sadness.

Betsy scrunched her nose. "Did you fall on your head? I wished for you to be my mom, and not her."

"Oh, any woman would love to be your mom." Grew-Ella hugged her.

Betsy screamed out. "Then why doesn't my own mom love me? I want to stay here."

Quig hugged Betsy. "She loves you, and I'll try to straighten everything out."