A Rain Check on the Pizza
“Daaad! Ophelia’s on fire again!”

She was and it was glorious.

Ophelia stood in the middle of the field, her back to Jake and Quinn, her face toward the sky. Her graying hair was loose and cascaded down her back. Her arms were spread wide, like a scarecrow. Or a crucifix. Billowing from the center of her chest up into the sky was thick black smoke, masking the sun. It danced around the hem of her long black dress, blurring it from view.

“Well, she’s done it again.” Quinn...