Re: [Webster's: Cris, Daniel & Sam]
Daniel did not forget easily. Oh, there were some things he didn't notice, and other things he chose to push away, but he did not just forget. He was not a goldfish. He did not forget what was living in the Antique Shop just down the road; he did not forget the isolation he felt from Sam, that she seemed unable or unwilling to acknowledge; he did not forget Cris' hostility and generosity, both together and never apart; oh no, Daniel did not forget. He chose, chose to accept them back into his home, because Sam wanted to be there and because he wanted to see Sam, and because he felt protective of them even if he felt, in his selfish way, that they abandoned him for better, more modern versions of life.
Daniel didn't bring his attention away from Cris long enough to go to poor Mimi's rescue. All the shouting always made her dive for cover, even if these days she did it to punish Daniel if he raised his voice, hiding under his chest of drawers and pretending the floor was lava. Such incidents often involved apologies, bribery, new toys, and unnecessary red salmon treats.
Anyway, framed in the door at the top of the landing, Daniel was looking like Cris as if he were a bomb about to go off. His skin had a quickly fading reddish-purple flush tinged around the top of his cheekbones, and he had his hand clutched over his heart, afraid it might try to tear itself out. He put distance between him and Cris, only a step, but enough to make it clear he wasn't embracing humanity with open arms. The contrary, even. "This thing that took the town, you did it?"