Dexter leaned back in his chair, glancing out the window to verify this. “So they are,” he said. “In-teresting.”

Lucas started to peel another tangerine as John Miller appeared in the kitchen doorway. His pale skin seemed even brighter in the dark. “Lights are out,” he said, as if we were blind and needed to be told this.

“Thank you, Einstein,” Lucas grumbled.

“It’s a circuitry problem,” Dexter decided. “Bad wiring, maybe.”

John Miller came into the room and flopped down on the couch. For a minute, no one said anything, and it became clear to me that this, to them, wasn’t really that big a problem. Lights, schmights.

“Did you not pay your bill?” I asked Dexter, finally.

“Bill?” he repeated.

“The power bill.”

Silence. Then, from Lucas, “Oh, man. The freaking power bill.”

“But we paid that,” John Miller said. “It was right there on the counter, I saw it yesterday.”

Dexter looked at him. “You saw it, or we paid it?”

“Both?” John Miller said, and Lucas sighed, impatiently.

“Where was it?” I asked John Miller, standing up. Someone had to do something, clearly. “Which counter?”

“There,” he said, pointing, but it was dark and I couldn’t see where. “In that drawer where we keep the important stuff.”

Dexter picked up a lighter and lit a candle, then turned to the drawer and began to dig around, sorting through what, to the guys, was deemed Important. Apparently, this included soy sauce packets, a plastic hula girl toy, and matchbooks from what looked like every convenience store and bar in town.

Oh, and a few pieces of paper, one of which Dexter seized and held aloft. “Is this it?”

I took it from him, squinting down at the writing. “No,” I said, slowly, “this is a notice saying if you didn’t pay your bill by-let’s see- yesterday, they were going to cut the power off.”

“Wow,” John Miller said. “How did that slip past us?”

I turned it over: stuck to the back was a set of pizza coupons with one ripped off, all of those left still a little greasy. “No idea,” I said.

“Yesterday,” Lucas said thoughtfully. “Wow, so they gave us, like, a half day over that. That’s mighty generous of them.”

I just looked at him.

“Okay,” Dexter said cheerfully, “so whose job was it to pay the power bill?”

Another silence. Then John Miller said, “Ted?”

“Ted,” Lucas echoed.

“Ted,” Dexter said, reaching over to the phone and yanking it off the hook. He dialed a number, then sat there, drumming his fingers on the table. “Hi, hey, Ted. Dexter. Guess where I am?” He listened for a second. “Nope. The dark. I’m in the dark. Weren’t you supposed to pay the power bill?”

I could hear Ted saying something, talking fast.

“I was about to solve the puzzle!” John Miller yelled. “I only needed an L or a V. ”

“Nobody cares,” Lucas told him.

Dexter continued to listen to Ted, who apparently had not taken a breath yet, making only hmm-hmm noises now and then. Finally he said, “Okay then!” and hung up the phone.

“So?” Lucas said.

“So,” Dexter told us, “Ted has it under control.”

“Meaning?” I asked.

“Meaning that he’s royally pissed, because, apparently, I was supposed to pay the power bill.” Then he smiled. “So! Who wants to tell ghost stories?”

“Dexter, honestly,” I said. This kind of irresponsibility made my ulcer ache, but apparently Lucas and John Miller were used to it. Neither one of them seemed particularly fazed, or even surprised.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said. “Ted’s got the money, he’s going to call them and see what he can do about getting it on tonight or early tomorrow.”

“Good for Ted,” Lucas said. “But what about you?”

“Me?” Dexter seemed surprised. “What about me?”

“He means,” I said, “that you should do something nice for the house by way of apology for this.”

“Exactly,” Lucas said. “Listen to Remy.”

Dexter looked at me. “Honey, you’re not helping.”

“We’re in the dark!” John Miller said. “And it’s your fault, Dexter.”

“Okay, okay,” Dexter said. “Fine. I’ll do something for the house. I’ll-”

“Clean the bathroom?” Lucas said.

“No,” Dexter said flatly.

“Do a load of my laundry?”

“No.”

Finally, John Miller said, “Buy beer?”

Everyone waited.

“Yes,” Dexter said. “Yes! I will buy beer. Here.” He reached into his pocket and came up with a crumpled bill, which he held up for all of us to see. “Twenty bucks. Of my hard-earned money. For you.”

Lucas swiped it off the table, fast, as if expecting Dexter to change his mind. “Wonderful. Let’s go.”

“I’ll drive,” said John Miller, jumping to his feet. He and Lucas left the kitchen, arguing about where the keys were. Then the screen door slammed, and we were alone.

Dexter reached over the kitchen counter and found another candle, then lit it and put it on the table as I slid into the chair opposite him. “Romantic,” I told him.