Chapter 13
21: The Summers’ House, 1630 Revello Drive, Central Sunnydale
The sun shone through the kitchen window scattering dappled light across the countertop and chrome fixtures. Its cheery glow seemed quite inappropriate considering the gloomy nature of the headlines causing Joyce Summers to sigh deeply as she read the details of the top story in the Sunnydale Press.
“Morning,” Buffy greeted somewhat glumly heading straight for the cabinet to pull down a bowl and a box of Wheaties.
Joyce wondered if her daughter already knew about the tragedy. The tone in her voice suggested that there was something bothering her. Though it had been a few months since Buffy’s return, they were still patching their relationship back together. It wasn’t always easy to correctly guess her moods.
“Buffy, there’s been a horrible accident. Some students from your class were involved,” she paused, waiting for some reaction.
It came almost immediately and sounded rather detached. “I already know, Mom. Tony Smithson died. There was a fire.”
Buffy poured the cereal into the bowl, put the box away and opened up the fridge to get the milk. “I could make you something if you prefer,” offered Joyce. “What about pancakes?”
That got her a smile. “No thanks. I’ve gotta jam.”
“It’s Saturday morning,” Joyce reminded her while taking in the fact that Buffy was already dressed for the day. Glancing at her watch, she added, “You’re up a little early for a weekend.”
“So are you.”
Joyce planned on conducting an inventory of the gallery today. She’d been hoping Buffy might come with her. There were times she still felt nervous about letting her out of her sight. This article just brought it all back and the thought of losing her child gripped her heart with fear.
Walking over, Joyce put an arm around her daughter’s shoulder and placed a kiss on her head. “I love you, honey.”
“I love you too, Mom,” came the automatic response. Buffy sent her a strange look as if questioning the need for the declaration. She sat down on a stool and started to eat her cereal.
“Just promise me that you’ll be careful out there. The police don’t know who is responsible for the fire,” Joyce missed Buffy’s expression as she trailed a finger under a line of newspaper text. “Witnesses say that Tony spontaneously burst into flames, but the police are looking for evidence of foul play. Especially since his girlfriend went missing.”
Coughing as a droplet of milk went the wrong way, Buffy gasped, “Missing?” She pulled the paper off of the counter and skimmed the article. “It says Karla is a suspect. That she vanished last night before the police got there.”
Joyce nodded, “Her parents must be terrified.”
“But that’s not true,” Buffy tossed the paper down. “Giles was there. He and Faith saw the whole thing. The police were going to escort Karla home.”
Clearly Buffy was trying to defend her schoolmate. “The police chief says that’s not the case. It’s right there in the article. Maybe Mr. Giles and your friend were mistaken.”
“Maybe,” answered Buffy with that I’m-giving-you-the-answer-you-want-to-hear tone that most teenagers thought they got away with, but never did.
Joyce watched Buffy polish off the rest of her cereal. She wanted to offer an ear if she needed someone to talk to, but it seemed that the subject was closed. “I’m going to be at the gal—”
“Knock, knock,” Xander’s chipper voice sounded from the screen door.
Grinning, Buffy jumped off her stool and went to open the door. “Is that a knock, knock joke or are you just happy to see me?”
“I’m always happy to see you,” Xander waggled his eyebrows. Catching sight of Joyce over by the sink, he froze for an instant and then let out a nervous laugh. “Um, hi, Mrs. Summers.”
“Good morning, Xander,” she tried not to laugh at his expression. Noticing that Willow was trailing in slowly, looking bleary-eyed and yawning wide, she added, “You too, Willow.”
Willow simply waved and crawled up onto one of the kitchen stools. Propping her elbow up on the edge of the counter, she cupped her chin with her hand, eyelids drooping closed. “Sleepy now,” she muttered through another yawn.
“Wake up, Will,” Xander walked over to massage her shoulders only to switch to a rousing back pat when she let out a low mewl that sounded a little too contented. Reminding her that they were just stopping by to pick up Buffy, “We’ve gotta get going.”
“Bye, Mom,” Buffy said as she tugged Willow toward the door.
Joyce called out to remind her that she would be at the gallery most of the day. “I’ll see you at dinnertime.”
“Hey, Buffster, did you tell your mom to expect that thing?” asked Xander rather cryptically. Then again, Joyce never knew what was going to come from Xander’s mouth.
Buffy looked wide-eyed and hesitant, obviously aware of what he was referring to, but for some reason uncertain that she wanted to reveal it.
“What thing?” Curious, Joyce stepped closer to the door. They were already on the back porch, standing in a close huddle.
Through gritted teeth, Buffy muttered to her friends, “No, I didn’t.” Her mom now knew about the vampire-fighting side of being a Slayer, but she still held back on some of the really scary stuff, like when demon gods threatened to take over the planet.
“What thing, Buffy?” she had to ask again, this time concerned. Crossing her arms she gave them her best stern face and waited for a response.
“Um, there’s supposed to be an earthquake.”
Xander helpfully specified, “Tonight.”
“An earthquake?” Well, this was California. Earthquakes were hardly unusual. The fact that Buffy and her friends seemed sure there would be one certainly was. “Is the fault line acting up again? I didn’t read anything in the paper to indic—”
Now fully awake, Willow was the one with the answers. “Nope, you won’t find it there. I was reading this old scro— schoolbook on…on Nostradamus…yeah, him… and there’s this prediction about today. You can’t beat that for an early warning system.”
“Nostradamus?” Joyce was surprised at the texts in schools these days. “Aren’t his predictions supposed to be vague?”
“Most prophecies are,” Xander told her quite seriously. A second later he gripped his side and let out a painful yelp drawing Joyce’s attention as he scowled down at her daughter’s elbow.
Buffy’s mouth curved into a tight smile, “No use taking chances, right? If you’re going to the gallery, you might want to, um…secure things just in case.”
With a shrug, Joyce agreed. “It never hurts to be prepared.”
“That’s what I used to tell Cordelia,” snorted Xander only to cry out again when Buffy whacked him on the arm.
“Going now,” Willow waved goodbye and darted down the steps heading across the back lawn toward the open gate.
Joyce watched as Buffy trudged after her leaving Xander to follow. He ran to catch up, “What’d I say?”
