The Syren Song: Verse 437
“Sometimes it’s not so bad”

We thought we were alone.

That was probably the first mistake.

The second was assuming Lexy had actually gone out when she said she had.

To be fair, the house had been quiet for nearly twenty minutes. No doors opening. No footsteps. No distant muttering from the basement. No sudden declaration that somebody had discovered ‘new evidence’ about something none of us had realized was under investigation.

By Lexy standards, that counted as an empty house.

Ravyn was sitting at the kitchen table with a mug in one hand and her phone in the other, scrolling through something with the kind of concentration that usually meant she was either reading medical research or judging somebody’s terrible financial decisions.

I was leaning against the counter, watching her.

“You know,” I said, “eventually we should probably talk about space.”

Her eyes lifted from the screen. “We are currently occupying space.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I generally do.”

I smiled. “Well, the baby is going to need more space.”

“Actually, the thing about babies is that they generally take up very little space.”

“The baby, yes. The crib, clothes, blankets, bottles, toys, stroller and everything else apparently required to keep one alive? Slightly more.”

Ravyn considered that for a moment before setting her phone down. There was no annoyance in the movement. Just attention.

“A more defensible argument.”

I gestured vaguely around the kitchen. “This worked when we needed somewhere after the fire.”

“Worked?”

“Well, I mean, it still works,” I clarified before taking a breath. “But it was supposed to be temporary.”

Ravyn tilted her head slightly. “Was it?”

I hesitated. “Well, yah… at first.”

“Interesting.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why is that interesting?”

“Because you’re describing the last eighteen months as though circumstances prevented us from leaving.”

“They kind of did.”

Ravyn gave me that look she always does when she thinks I’m being dishonest. “The fire prevented us from returning home.”

“Exactly.”

“Eighteen months ago.” I opened my mouth. She continued before I could answer. “There have been plenty of opportunities since then to reclaim our own space.”

“Things have been… complicated.”

“Things are always complicated.”

“That’s very philosophical of you.”

“It is also accurate.”

I looked away, toward the window over the sink. She wasn’t wrong. There had always been something.

The aftermath of the fire.

Wrestling.

Travel.

Everything with Frank.

Everything with me.

Each reason had made sense at the time. Together, they had somehow become a year and a half.

“You deserve somewhere that’s ours,” I said.

Ravyn’s expression softened just enough that anyone who didn’t know her would have missed it. “Ours.”

“Yah, ours.”

“For the baby?”

“For us.” I paused. “And for the baby.”

She nodded once. “That is a more acceptable answer.”

I smiled. “You deserve the chance to nest.”

Ravyn stared at me. “I am not nesting.”

“You reorganized the same drawer three times yesterday.”

“It was inefficient.”

“You bought six blankets.”

“They serve different purposes.”

“They’re all gray.”

“Aesthetic consistency is not evidence of hormonal surrender.”

I laughed. “You alphabetized the bottles in the bathroom.”

“They were arranged incorrectly.”

“They’re bottles.”

“They contain different substances.”

“Most of them are lotion.”

“That does not make them interchangeable.”

I held up both hands. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“You deserve somewhere to exercise total strategic control over the placement of six completely different gray blankets.”

Her eyes narrowed. “They are different.”

“I believe you.”

“You don’t.”

I smiled. “Not even slightly.”

That earned the faintest smile from her. Then it disappeared. “We could have left before now.”

There was no accusation in the words. That made them harder to dodge.

“I know.”

“We could have rented somewhere.”

“I know.”

“We could have bought somewhere new.”

“I know.”

“We could have done more to rush the rebuild.”

I looked down at the counter. “I know.”

Ravyn watched me for a moment. Then she said it. “You don’t want to leave her.”

I looked back at her. “Leave who?”

Her expression didn’t change. “The woman whose house we have occupied for eighteen months.”

I laughed quietly. “Lexy likes having us here.”

“That was not what I said.”

“…I know.”

“You like being here.”

I didn’t answer immediately. Because that was different.

Lexy drove me insane. She talked too much. Planned too much. Interfered constantly. Turned every minor inconvenience into either a conspiracy or a personal mission from God. She had dragged me into things I never would have agreed to if she had asked normally. She had shouted at me, worried about me, annoyed me, defended me, pushed me, believed in me when I had made it extremely difficult for anyone to do that.

At some point, without either of us deciding it, she had stopped being the ridiculous manager attached to my career.

She had become part of my life.

“I didn’t notice it happening,” I admitted.

Ravyn leaned back slightly. “What?”

I looked toward the doorway. “Her becoming my best friend.”

Ravyn stared at me for half a second. Then one eyebrow lifted. “You genuinely believed that was news?”

I looked back at her. “You knew?”

“Everyone knew.”

“I don’t think Lexy knows.”

“Lexy believes she is your manager, guardian, strategist, publicist, legal counsel and spiritual protector.”

“She isn’t qualified for any of those.”

“That has never discouraged her.”

I laughed.

Ravyn picked up her mug again. “You want a home with me.”

“You know I do.”

“You want somewhere that belongs to us.”

“Absolutely.”

“And you want her close enough to remain embedded in every aspect of your life.”

“Not every aspect.” Ravyn gave me a look. I relented. “Ok, some aspects.”

“Better.”

I pushed away from the counter and sat opposite her. “I don’t want to stay here forever. But I don’t want moving out to feel like I’m leaving something behind either.”

Ravyn was quiet.

I reached across the table and rested my hand over hers. “I want both.”

“You generally do.”

“That sounded judgmental.”

“It was observational.”

I smiled. “You’re impossible when you don’t get your own way.”

A crash came from somewhere beyond the kitchen. Not loud. Just the unmistakable sound of something being knocked over.

We both turned toward the doorway. For a second, there was silence. Then rapid footsteps scampered away down the hall.

Ravyn closed her eyes. “We are not alone.” She hesitated. “How much do you think she heard?”

I looked toward the empty doorway.

Enough to know we were talking about leaving.

Enough to know I wanted our own home.

Enough to know that whatever came next would probably involve Lexy deciding she had personally been tasked with solving the problem.

I smiled. “Enough.”

Ravyn sighed. “If she thinks you’re leaving, she’s going to be intolerable.”

“She’ll decide she knows exactly how to fix it.”

“She usually does.”

“And once she decides that, nobody will be able to talk her out of it,” I stated.

Ravyn nodded. I smiled. She looked at me suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re smiling at me.”

“I was just appreciating certain similarities.”

“Between?”

I glanced toward the hallway.

Ravyn’s expression hardened. “Don’t.”

I laughed. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. Then I reached across the table and took her hand again. “I meant what I said, though.”

Her expression softened. “About wanting our own space?”

I nodded. “I want a home with you. Something that’s ours.” I glanced toward the doorway where Lexy had disappeared. “I just don’t want that to cost me what I have with either of you.”

Three Days Later…

Lexy had called a meeting.

Those were the exact words she’d used. A meeting. Not breakfast. Not come look at this. Not even the considerably more worrying ‘I’ve had an idea’.

A meeting.

Which was why Ravyn and I had been sitting in the living room for almost ten minutes waiting for her to arrive, despite the fact that she was the one who lived there.

Ravyn glanced toward the hallway. “How likely is it that this involves colored string?”

I considered the question. “Very.”

“Photographs?”

“Almost certainly.”

“The Russians?”

I smiled. “Pending investigation.”

Ravyn sighed and leaned back against the couch. Lexy had been suspiciously quiet for the last few days. Not normal quiet. Lexy quiet. Which usually meant she was either concentrating very hard on something or attempting to ensure nobody noticed what she was doing.

Neither possibility was reassuring.

“Maybe it’s about Rise to Greatness,” I said.

“Perhaps she intends to unveil the seventeenth revision of your match strategy.”

“There were only twelve yesterday.”

Ravyn looked at me. “You left the house for an hour.”

I glanced toward the hallway again. “She hasn’t mentioned Bree in two days.”

“Concerning.”

“Or Frank.”

“Deeply concerning.” I thought about it. “She did ask me yesterday whether property taxes count as a business expense.”

Ravyn slowly turned her head toward me. “And you did not consider that relevant?”

“It’s Lexy. She asks weird questions.”

“She asked me last month whether purchasing night-vision equipment could be classified as professional development.”

“What did you tell her?”

“No.”

“Did that stop her?”

“Obviously not.”

Before I could answer, footsteps approached.

Lexy appeared carrying a thick folder pressed against her chest. She stopped in the doorway. Looked at both of us. Then smiled. It was the smile that worried me most.

“Thank you both for attending.”

Ravyn looked around the room. “We live here.”

“Attendance remains appreciated.”

Lexy crossed the room and placed the folder carefully on the coffee table. Then she remained standing behind it. Ravyn looked at the folder. Then at Lexy. “What did you buy?”

Lexy’s face fell. “Can you not ruin this?”

“You arrived carrying paperwork and looking pleased with yourself.”

“That could mean anything.”

“With you, it actually could.”

Lexy cleared her throat.

“As I was saying—”

“You hadn’t started.”

“I was about to.” She straightened slightly. “Following recent intelligence—” Ravyn looked at me. I looked back. “—I became aware of a developing domestic crisis requiring immediate intervention.”

“You listened at the door,” Ravyn said.

Lexy frowned.

“Intelligence gathering.”

“Eavesdropping.”

“There are laws protecting whistleblowers.”

“You weren’t blowing a whistle.”

“I could have.”

I rubbed a hand across my face. “Lex, what did you do?”

She held up one finger. “First, I would like it officially recognized that what I have done is selfless, visionary, and potentially tax deductible.”

Ravyn’s eyes returned to the folder. “It isn’t.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“You said potentially tax deductible. It isn’t.”

Lexy pointed at her. “This attitude is why nobody enjoys filing taxes with you.”

“Nobody should enjoy filing taxes.”

“Exactly. You make everything miserable.”

I leaned forward. “The folder, Lex.”

Her expression brightened again. “Right.” She pushed it across the table toward me. “Open it.”

I stared at her. “Why?”

“Because that’s generally how folders work.” Ravyn reached for it first. Lexy immediately pulled it back. “Not you.”

Ravyn raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because it’s for Zo.”

That got my attention. Lexy pushed the folder toward me again. I opened it. The first page was covered in enough legal language that my eyes immediately tried to skip most of it. There was an address near the top. I recognized it. I read it again anyway. Then looked through the window toward the neighboring house. Then back at the paperwork.

“Lex...”

She was practically vibrating. “Surprise.”

I looked at Ravyn. For once, even she seemed to need a second. Then she reached over and took the papers from me. “This is an offer to purchase the property next door.”

Lexy nodded enthusiastically. “Accepted offer.”

Ravyn continued reading. “Subject to completion.”

“Technicality.”

“A fairly substantial technicality.”

“Nobody else can have it. That’s the important part.”

I was still staring at her. “You bought us a house?”

Lexy’s smile softened. Just slightly. “Well, technically I’m buying it. Apparently houses take forever and there are lawyers and inspections and people who insist you can’t just hand somebody money and ask them to leave.”

“Usually considered a positive feature of property law,” Ravyn said.

Lexy ignored her. “But yes.” She looked at me. “It’s yours.”

For a moment, none of the jokes mattered. I didn’t know what to say. Three days earlier, I’d been sitting in the kitchen trying to explain that I wanted something of my own without losing what I already had. Now Lexy was standing in front of me having apparently decided the solution was to purchase the nearest available building.

It was ridiculous.

Completely excessive.

Very possibly financially irresponsible.

And so overwhelmingly Lexy that I felt my throat tighten.

“Why?”

She looked confused. “Because you need a house.”

“Lex.”

“You said you wanted your own space.”

Her eyes flicked briefly toward Ravyn. “And apparently Satan needs somewhere to nest.”

Ravyn’s expression flattened. “I am not nesting.”

“Sure.”

“And I am not Satan.”

Lexy hesitated. “That remains disputed.”

“Only by you.”

“And several major religions.”

Ravyn stared at her. Lexy looked back at me. “Anyway, this solves everything. You get your own place. You’re still close. I can come over whenever I want—”

“No,” Ravyn said.

Lexy ignored her. “—and more importantly, I’ll still be nearby when the baby comes.”

Ravyn folded her arms. “Why is that important?”

Lexy lowered her voice. “Because someone needs to make sure the Antichrist isn’t raised exclusively by the Devil.”

Ravyn stared at her. “You still believe you’re the main character in Revelation.”

“And you’re still Satan.”

“Apparently Satan owns property.”

“That’s how she gets you.”

I laughed despite myself. Ravyn looked down at the paperwork again. Her expression changed. Not much. But I knew that look. She was calculating.

“Actually...”

Lexy immediately became suspicious. “What?”

Ravyn turned another page. “This arrangement does have advantages.”

Lexy narrowed her eyes. “Why are you saying it like that?”

“Zoe gets the independence she wants.”

“Yes.”

“We remain together.”

“Obviously.”

“And she remains close to the people she considers family.”

Lexy’s suspicion deepened. “Yes...”

Ravyn smiled. That was when Lexy realized something had gone wrong. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That is not a nothing smile.”

Ravyn placed the paperwork neatly back inside the folder. “You have spent a considerable amount of your own money ensuring my partner remains beside me while simultaneously guaranteeing that you remain available whenever our child requires its aunt.”

Lexy blinked. “To protect it from you.”

“You have purchased yourself a permanent role in our family.”

“That is not what happened.”

“With your own money.”

Lexy straightened. “Exactly. My money.”

Ravyn’s eyes narrowed. “And to clarify, you’re the one buying the house?”

“Yes.”

“You? Not Zoe in your name? Not you with Zoe’s money?”

Lexy huffed. “It wouldn’t be a gift if I did it with her money, would it? Besides, why are you so surprised? I have money.”

“You have ten percent of her money.”

“Pfft. I have plenty of revenue streams. The Chapel Show. ChapelCast. The Happy Farmstead. There are media companies all over Los Angeles waiting for my next genius project.”

Ravyn nodded slowly. “You also have plenty of expenses. Did you forget you made me help you with your taxes?”

Lexy’s confidence faltered. “Temporarily.”

“I saw the numbers.”

“They were taken out of context.”

“They were numbers.”

“Exactly. No context.”

Ravyn looked back down at the paperwork. “Something doesn’t add up.”

Lexy shifted awkwardly. “I have... other revenue streams.”

I sighed. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“What have you signed me up for?”

“No, no. It’s not you. It’s me.” That did not make me feel any better. “And it’s not what you’re thinking,” she added quickly. “Well, unless you’re thinking about how much people pay for photographs of my feet, which would be a weird thing for you to be thinking about.”

I stared at her. Ravyn slowly lowered the folder. “You sold photographs of your feet?”

Lexy immediately became defensive. “Sold is such an ugly word.”

“What word would you use?”

“Monetized.”

“Your feet.”

“My extremely marketable feet.”

I closed my eyes. “How long has this been happening?”

“That feels invasive.”

“You just told us.”

“I didn’t expect follow-up questions.” Ravyn looked down toward Lexy’s shoes. Lexy immediately pulled both feet beneath her chair. “Don’t look at them for free.”

“I assure you, I wasn’t.”

“You say that now.”

I rubbed a hand across my face. “Please tell me the house wasn’t funded entirely by feet.”

“Of course not.”

I relaxed slightly. Lexy paused. “There were subscription tiers.”

Ravyn closed the folder. I stared at the ceiling. Somewhere along the way, the most thoughtful gift anyone had given me in years had become a conversation about recurring payments for Lexy Chapel’s toes.

Honestly, that felt appropriate.

“Do either of you want to see the portfolio?”

“No,” Ravyn and I said together.

Lexy looked genuinely wounded. “You haven’t even seen the lighting.”

“We’re accepting the house,” Ravyn said.

Lexy stopped.

“We are?” I asked, a little surprised Ravyn would agree to live that close to Lexy voluntarily.

I looked at Lexy. Then at Ravyn. Then back toward the window and the house next door. My own space. Our space. Close enough that nothing important actually had to change. I smiled.

“Yeah.”

Lexy’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Really.” For once, she didn’t have a joke ready. She just smiled. Then Ravyn ruined it. “Although I reserve the right to establish boundaries regarding unannounced visits.”

Lexy’s smile disappeared. “Absolutely not.”

I laughed. There it was. Some things, apparently, really didn’t have to change.

The Next Morning...

I was almost home when I saw our neighbor standing in her front yard.

Her yard, I reminded myself. For now.

I slowed from a jog to a walk, pulling one earbud free as she noticed me approaching.

“Morning.”

“Zoe!” She smiled and waved me over. “I was hoping I’d see you.”

I stepped onto the grass, still trying to catch my breath. “Everything okay?”

“More than okay.” Her smile widened. “I took your advice.”

I already knew what she meant. “Florida?”

She nodded. “You were right. I kept thinking about everything I’d be leaving behind here instead of what I’d be moving toward.” Her expression softened. “My daughter nearly cried when I told her. The grandchildren are already arguing about which one gets to help me unpack.”

I smiled. “I’m really happy for you.”

“So am I.” She glanced back toward the house. “It all happened rather faster than I expected.”

“I heard.”

“That blonde friend of yours is very... enthusiastic.”

I laughed. “That’s one word for her.”

“She made an offer before I’d even spoken to an agent.”

“That sounds like Lexy.”

“A very generous one, too.”

“Also sounds like Lexy.”

She glanced toward the house beside hers. “I didn’t ask what she wanted it for.”

I smiled. “That was probably wise.”

“She seemed very determined, though.”

“She usually is.”

The woman laughed softly, then looked back at me. “And you?”

“Me?”

“Have you figured out what you’re going to do yet? About finding somewhere of your own?”

I glanced toward the two houses. “I’ve got that situation well in hand.”

“I suspected you might.” There was something about the way she said it that made me look back at her. Then she smiled. “What about the other problem?”

“Which one?”

“You told me people have a habit of thinking they know what’s best for you. That they mistake you listening to them for being easily led.”

I smiled.

When Ravyn and I had had that conversation, I’d known Lexy was still in the house.

I’d known exactly where she was when Ravyn and I started talking.

I’d already spoken to the woman standing in front of me about Florida. About her daughter. About how much she missed her grandchildren.

I knew Lexy would hear enough to panic.

I knew she’d decide there was a problem only she could solve.

And I knew Ravyn well enough to understand that if I suggested moving next door to Lexy myself, she’d find a dozen perfectly rational reasons why it was a terrible idea.

But if Lexy suggested it?

If Lexy spent her own money making it happen?

Ravyn would find a way to call it a victory.

I hadn’t made any of their decisions for them. I’d just known them well enough to know what decisions they’d make.

I’d expected Lexy to find a solution.

I hadn’t expected that solution to involve her outright buying the house.

I definitely hadn’t expected the feet.

But everything else?

That had gone more or less according to plan.

“Doesn’t that bother you?” she asked.

“What?”

“Being underestimated.”

I looked toward the two houses.

At the home I already had.

And the one that would soon be ours.

I smiled. “Sometimes it’s not so bad.”

To Be Continued…

Zoe "Syren" Sperling © 2026 So Totally Awesome Productions