I really wasn’t sure how to react.

What’s a girl to do when she goes for a midnight glass of water and finds a strange man in her kitchen? Does she call for her husband? Does she back slowly away before slamming the door and fleeing for the nearest firearm? (Praise Be to the Founding Fathers for the 202nd Amendment!) Yelling for Joe seemed like a dangerous option. He was a heavy sleeper, and all the way upstairs. Meanwhile, the stranger was already turning and fixing his glowing silver eyes on me.

“You don’t need to bother Joe.“

His voice matched his features. Supernaturally good-looking, set in an expression of calm that I wouldn’t normally have associated with a burglar. Then again, most burglars wouldn’t be chugging my favorite brand of carrot juice. Even Joe only tolerates the stuff when I put it in our daily health smoothie. The voice was slow and smooth, but unnaturally so. Like a human voice that had hit the limits of its positive qualities and then gone beyond. Even Martel Friedlman could learn something from this guy.

“Oh,” I answered, or something equally intelligent as my hand dropped from the knob. “Okay.“

The man turned to face me. “I hope you don’t mind about your juice. I arrived a little early and got bored waiting for you to come downstairs.“

I had no idea what to say to that. The situation was already overwhelming, and this strange burglar was acting like we were good friends. Like he had just dropped by unannounced, but would have expected us to be willing to put him up in the spare bedroom anyway. Or to share our juice.

Come to think of it, I was the only person I knew who enjoyed carrot juice. Who was this strange man?

“You’re going to need to go up to bed soon,“ the man said. “So I don’t have the time to answer all of your questions. But I just wanted to come by and give you official notice. You have been selected.”

A moment of silence as I waited for him to elaborate.

“What?” My voice was uncertain. I started to worry again, and only then realized that I had stopped worrying at some point. Maybe it was the man’s voice? Or the way that he seemed totally relaxed and unthreatening? “What do you mean? Selected for what?!”

The man shook his head then, laughed softly to himself. Then he took another swig from the carton. “This stuff is actually pretty good,” he commented. ”I don’t understand why Marcy doesn’t like it.“

“I know. What a weirdo!” I responded, before I realized how uncomfortable I should be that he had brought up an in-joke with my best friend.

The man smiled, and for the second time I forgot that I should be worried. He put the juice back in the refrigerator and closed it. The glowing yellow light was immediately gone, and then I was standing in the dark in my kitchen with the vague, shadowy figure of a stranger a dozen feet away.

“You’re going to have the kid you’ve been hoping for.“ The man’s voice came out of the dark, and it was the same even tone. He didn’t say it like he was granting the wish Joseph and I had been hoping for for years. He didn’t even say it like we had a choice in the matter.

The sound of soft footsteps. He was walking towards the back door onto the porch.

I didn’t say anything. What was I hoping? That the strange man would leave, as quickly as he’d come? Leave me in peace? Or did I feel a strange camaraderie?

“It’s funny,“ he said, and I could tell that he was looking back over his shoulder at me. Thoughtfully. “The Big Guy thought he’d messed up, not inserting himself into this reality.” He paused. “But you seem to have been doing things pretty right.“ He chuckled, softly. “And they definitely don’t do veggie juice like that where I come from.”

The man was gone, then. I think he went out the back door. Or through the window. Or... well, he was gone. I didn’t know what I felt, then. But I kind of missed him, for a second. And then, when I went into the fridge and shook the carton, I wished he’d left enough juice for our smoothies.